In 1957, I was called to pastor a liberal congregational church called the University of Clark Congregational Church in Portland, Oregon. At the time I went there, it appeared that there might be a Christian in the congregation. Unfortunately, I was mistaken about that person.
But in the providence of God, there had been an elderly man whom I had not met because he had been ill at the time that I was candidating there. And he had been praying for a long time that God would send a true believer as pastor of that church. By the grace of God, the third Sunday I preached there, I could see tears on what I was sure was one face.
What I hoped was two faces. And what in wild hope I hoped was a third face. After the morning service, I said, I will be here in the sanctuary at 3 o'clock.
If there's anyone in the congregation who can no longer live without the knowledge of sins forgiven, they're welcome to meet me. I hoped desperately that at least one would come. There were 13 who came, so many that I was quite unprepared to deal with them personally.
So I spent perhaps 45 minutes trying to enable them to see. What a true conversion to Christ was. And then I said to them, before you leave, I've laid out a paper here.
I'd like each of you to write down the time within the next six days when you can come for a private conversation with me. You could come then to ask for help. But it would be much more wonderful if you came to tell me how Christ had transformed your life.
In the next six days, 11 of the 13 came and reported incredibly beautiful conversions. Not one of them fell away. Most are in the glory now.
The other two, one was a Roman Catholic man who just somehow could not get beyond Roman Catholicism. The last one was the one I had hoped was a believer when I first went there. God did an incredible work over the next 3 and 1⁄2 years, as close a thing as I ever saw to true revival.
For an entire congregation that had never had a gospel ministry turned into a house of prayer. I had, as a boy, felt a very clear call from God when I was 12 years of age to take up a revival ministry. I didn't know what revival was.
I only knew that was what I was supposed to do. So after three years in this church, I felt the time had come when I needed to launch into the work that I felt clearly called to. But I felt I needed to spend some time in Britain in further preparation and in doing studies and research in the matter of revival.
I resigned after 3 and 1⁄2 years, but made a promise that I wouldn't leave until they had called a replacement. That proved to be a very stupid thing to do. They didn't want me to leave, and they, for a long time, did nothing about finding a replacement.
Finally, I began to insist that they act. And again, in stupidity, pushing them to act, they ended up calling a man who, in far less time than it took to turn the church around, had smashed it to pieces. That, of course, is a regular story of what happens with great frequency today.
But nonetheless, I left. I went to Europe. When I returned from Europe, I stopped to visit my parents, who lived in upstate New York.
I went to the First Presbyterian Church, where they were members. On the Sunday night, I entered the church parlors, where they had a university age meeting. And I stood there like a dummy.
They were standing around the piano, singing. A lovely young woman stepped up to me and offered to share the hymn book with me. I, you know, I didn't want to boldly look, but I never was much good.
Never really dated or anything like that. Was quite afraid of girls, to be honest. But there was just something about that girl.
And I made up my mind. That night, that was the girl for me. She's here with me.
There was a sparkle in her eyes and a warmth in her spirit. And I said to myself, if you're not careful, you're going to be in love with that girl. I felt it wise not to do anything too quickly and to be sure that by the time I said to her, I love you, I could back it up with the entirety of my life.
I understood that love is a commitment you make. A commitment based upon convincing evidence that love is truly appropriate in this situation. I've never had any reason to regret the commitment that I made.
I've had thousands of reasons to be grateful. When I came to write the first book, I had made a rather vain attempt to write a book earlier. You see, I had been greatly interested in evangelism and felt that I would write a book on the evangelism of Jesus and work for weeks and weeks, lining out all the appropriate scriptures.
But when I analyzed everything that I had prepared, I realized Jesus didn't have a method. And writing about it would be quite absurd. Jesus treated every individual as if they were a real, live person.
And he spoke to them that which was particularly appropriate for them. So thank God I abandoned the plan to write a book on the evangelism of Jesus. But the time came when I felt clearly I needed to write a book on revival.
And I thought, well, because the subject is of such disinterest to the bulk of the church, and so little is really known about it, that I better put in a definition of what I'm talking about. So I said a revival is nothing other than an extraordinary work of God, producing extraordinary results. Well, it's perfectly accurate.
But I don't stand by that definition anymore, as accurate as it is. For over time, I began to understand that there's a better way to state what revival is. Most of those who have ever heard me speak have heard me state this.
Revival is God in the midst of his people. You see, when I first met Maggie, there was something about her that drew my attention in a powerful way. And the better I got to know her, the more certain I was that a commitment of love was totally appropriate.
I can't think of drifting from her. That would be a violation of love. I can't think of hardening my heart against her.
That would be a violation of love. I cannot become dull and sluggish toward her. That would be a violation of love.
The first time I heard of Christ, I was attracted to him. There was something about what I heard, what I saw for myself in scripture, what I was beginning to feel in my own spirit that was very attractive, very alluring. And then the time came when I was sure that it was appropriate for me to make a commitment to Christ, a commitment to love him with all of my heart, with all of my soul, with all of my strength, and with all of my mind, a commitment that has endured.
And by the grace of God, I cannot drift from him. That would be a violation of love for him. I cannot let my heart grow callous.
That would be a terrible violation of him. I will not allow myself to become dull and sluggish. I committed myself to love Christ.
And thank God, I know he loves me. So it's like an anchor in the soul. A number of years ago when I was addressing the staff of what used to be called the Basic Youth Conflict, was that the name, Bill Gothard's ministry, in our area of Chicago, a large number of the younger people on the staff were standing about afterward asking me questions.
And a girl timidly put up her hand. And she said, Mr. Roberts, why is it when revival occurs, it seems as if the only thing people want to do is to pray? And I said to her, have you ever been in love? And she turned a brilliant red. Oh, I said, I'm sorry.
I wasn't prying into your private life. I didn't mean to embarrass you. Well, she said, that's all right, Mr. Roberts.
And she held up her left hand. And she had a shiny new diamond on her finger. And she said, yes, I have fallen in love.
I've just been engaged this week. And I've kept track of her. Her husband teaches at Moody Bible Institute.
I get to see them from time to time. I said to her when she held up her hand and announced that she'd just gotten engaged, then you've answered your own question. Why is it in revival that all people want to do is to pray? It's because they fall in love with Christ.
And why is it that revival is so desperately needed? Because we haven't fallen in love with Christ as we ought. Now, we're looking at Hebrews. And some of you have a good acquaintance with Hebrews.
But I don't find that the bulk of Christians are seriously interested in Hebrews. And I expect that at least one of the reasons why Hebrews is such a neglected book is that it doesn't really say anything about God loving us. And for the most part, professed Christians are so in love with themselves that they find it a wonder that God doesn't love them just the way they are.
In fact, many of them, living in the depths of sin, have persuaded themselves that God can't help himself but love them. But because Hebrews doesn't do anything to satisfy self-love, well, then it's a largely neglected book. Let's begin this morning by looking at the end of Hebrews chapter 11.
Some of you have familiarized yourself with this incredibly wonderful chapter. Not long ago, I was privileged to give a series of messages on
Hebrews 11 and took a very simple outline. I asked the congregation how many letters are in the word faith.
It doesn't take much brilliance to answer five. I said, let each of the letters represent a portion of the chapter. F, verse 1, facts in focus.
Faith gives substance to things that are hoped for. It provides the evidence of things not seen. You see, the problem in the American church is that the bulk of people who call themselves Christians don't have the facts in focus.
What they can touch, what they can taste, what they can hear, what they can see means much more to them than that which is unseen and that which is hoped for. But faith brings the unseen and the hoped for into such focus that the unseen and the hoped for become much more dominant in the life than the visible and the touchable and the tasteable. The simple evidence that the majority of people who call themselves Christians are unbelievers.
If a person is more orientated toward this life than the life to come, toward this earth than the eternal kingdom of God, that person does not have faith. I, intimacy with God. Think of the incredible portions of
Hebrews 11, like Enoch, walked with God and was not because God took him.
We know that he was 65 years of age when his son, Methuselah, was born. And we know that for 300 years after the birth of Methuselah, Enoch walked with God. Abraham, intimacy with God.
Moses, intimacy with God. It's absurd to think of yourself as a Christian if you have no intimacy with God. T, or I, F-A-I, I skipped A. Why didn't you correct me? Well, good for you.
A, active obedience. Every person mentioned in
Hebrews 11 was given a task and they did it. Why do you call me Lord, Lord, and you don't do what I say? If you love me, keep my commandments.
It's absurd to think you have faith if you live in disobedience to Christ. I better re-spell now, F-A-I. Oh, now, T, T, tenacious valour.
You remember that portion that begins, time would fail me to tell. And then he goes on speaking of Gideon and Jephthah and Barak. Talks about those who were sown asunder, those who were beheaded, those who spent their years in caves of the earth and under the cover of some shelter to hide from those who were prepared to put them to death.
But every one of them held on, held on courageously. Tenacious means I will not let go. And valour, incredible courage.
Now, we've got all kinds of yellow-spined people in the church who don't have enough courage to even tell their own children about Christ, let alone stand up against the vicious world. What right do we have to tell them that they have the faith that saves when they're lacking in both tenacity and valour? But hope, and that's why I've raised this matter, because I said we're going to look at the last couple of verses for an opening this morning. And so Hebrews chapter 11, the last two verses.
Therefore, since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude. I'm in 12. That's good, though.
We're coming back to that. But I'm a little ahead of myself. But 11, we'll do better this time.
Verses 39 and 40, all these, having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised, because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us, they should not be made perfect. Now, Hebrews has a good bit to say about promises. But in these words, they are not a reference to promises, but to the promise.
So as a summary of all that is said in Hebrews chapter 11, every person whose name appears in
Hebrews 11 had something that the vast majority of professed Christians in America do not have. They had God's approval.