I grew up during the turbulent 1960s and early ‘70s. It was a time of student protests over the Vietnam war, the rise of hallucinogenic drugs such as LSD, the Manson murders and the British invasion that began with the Beatles. If you are of a certain age and didn’t watch John, Paul, George and Ringo on the Ed Sullivan show, your Boomer badge is questionable.
I had been raised in a church, but during my teen years found it increasingly irrelevant to my life. Yet as I went off to college, I knew something was missing from my life. By about my junior year, I began seeking whatever it was that would fill the void I felt. I visited several campus religious groups, but none of what they offered appealed to me. Occasionally a Christian speaker would speak on campus, but I wasn’t yet persuaded.
Finally, at my workplace a Christian young lady shared with me how I could experience spiritual satisfaction by asking Christ into my life. One of the Scriptures she cited was John 1:12, “as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.”
I didn’t have to think about it, I jumped at the invitation – as did tens of thousands of young people my age as what became known as the Jesus Movement revival swept the country. One Sunday night I was baptized in the church in which I had surrendered to Christ and had walked down the aisle to the strains of “Have Thine Own Way, Lord.” It didn’t take long until, armed with my Good News for Modern Man version of the New Testament and The Four Spiritual Laws tract, I joined others in telling seekers like I had been about the “Good News” of the Gospel.
As I grew spiritually, I eventually joined a Christian commune in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district as did my girlfriend, a new Christian herself. Several of our housemates had been delivered from drug addiction. One young man had been a male prostitute. It was glorious to see God’s intervention in the lives of these fellow believers.
But then, as many revivals do, the excitement began to wind down. Some who had professed faith now left, cynical of “religion.” Some fell into various traps such as legalism or its counterpart, licentiousness. Others embraced doctrines that lead to spiritual abuse. In my case, I watched sadly as some of my friends became victims of the “shepherding movement,” wherein elders were given extreme authority over their congregants. It soon became clear the revival that had saved so many of us was over. As such, most of us became adults, married, raised the next generation and took on responsible jobs as we also served in our local church.
Though many have left the faith they had once claimed, I’m happy to say many more have stood firm in their faith. I’m still in touch with many friends who are perhaps even spiritually stronger than ever. As for me, I married that girlfriend and we raised three daughters and are now grandparents. I became an editor and writer as I pursued God’s calling on my life. I’ll never forget the day I received a communication from a pastor of a large church telling me one of my books had been a blessing to him. Little did he know he was pastoring the very church where I had walked down that aisle 40 years earlier, committing my life to Christ.
I know that many of us who remember the glory days of our Jesus Movement revival wistfully long for a fresh outpouring of God’s Spirit. I can hear us all now as we cry out, “Do it again, Lord. Do it again!” And I believe He will.
Nick Harrison is the author “Our Cry for Revival,” a new book from B&H Publishing. He is also author of more than a dozen books including “The One Year Life Recovery Prayer Devotional,” “Magnificent Prayer,” “Power in the Promises,” and five books in the “One-Minute Prayer” series.
