Remembering the Tent Meetings—and Recovering a Hope We Still Need

Ragged or refined, wholly or holy, the tapestry of our lives is woven from many threads and fabrics. Some need trimming; others, restoration. An old hymn book of my mother’s from a “to be sorted later” box needed dusting off, along with buried memories. I was surprised at how deeply the experiences represented by that box shaped my sense of hope and my expectations of the church and preaching.

In the early 1960s, the big revival tent of Bernice Gerard and Thelma McCall arrived in the grassy field in Tadanac, just over the tracks from Webster School. The revival crusade was an event advertised in the Trail Daily Times, announced on CJAT, and posted on church bulletin boards throughout the Trail-Castlegar-Salmo region of British Columbia.

The event held the possibility of something unexpected and exceptional, if only because the headliners were two women.

A revival crusade shared many benefits of modern pop-up experiences. It was temporary, with a clear beginning and end. The venue was unique and invited discovery. Who knew what mysteries and experiences might be inside the giant canvas flaps? Would the experience be more circus than church? Before the widespread invasion of black-and-white television, the arrival of the revival tent provided welcome relief and entertainment for those lonely, tired, burdened by the responsibilities and tedium of family life and work in the smelter. The invitation offered relief tinged with the possibility of redemption and a better life.

Breathe on me, Breath of God,

Fill me with life anew

The singing was lively, echoing a famous question attributed to William Booth, co-founder of the Salvation Army: “Why should the devil have all the best tunes?” New hymns and choruses went viral throughout the movement. Many survived.

“Spirit of the Living God” (Daniel Iverson)

“Pass Me Not, O Gentle Saviour” (Fanny Crosby)

“Search Me, O God” (“Cleanse Me”) (J. Edwin Orr adaptation of Psalm 139)

“Have Thine Own Way, Lord” (Adelaide Pollard)

“I Need Thee Every Hour” (Annie Hawks)

“Just As I Am” (Charlotte Elliott)

Contrary to the caricature in movies, the primary purpose of such events was not to save souls but to invigorate local churches.

To revive means to bring back to life, to make alive again. For many itinerant preachers, the goal was to reinvigorate local congregations so they could be a catalyst for people to let go of destructive habits and patterns, and live a fuller life patterned on the way of Jesus.

Revival crusades had a short half-life, partly due to changing technology and societal patterns, but also because “revival” became associated with emotionalism and manipulation. Within church circles, the rise of therapeutic culture and greater awareness of organizational theory led to a shift toward words like vision, growth, and transformation. Spiritual formation shifted more to process and practices. Not bad. Spiritual practices are rooted in centuries of tradition, and, in the early church, the year-long process of preparing people for baptism recognized the importance of time and process.

Lost in the shift to modern language and paradigms was the sense of a God who could unexpectedly interrupt ordinary life. Revival was not something humans produced through better planning or programming; it was understood as a sovereign work of the Holy Spirit. So, if you’re anxious about losing the status quo, strap on the helmets and protective vests. God is on the loose; who knows what might happen.

If you yearn for a deeper, more fulfilling life, open your heart.

The yearning for something different has not gone away in a world marked by fear, loneliness, and the sense of being powerless in a power-stacked world. God help us. This basic prayer springs up with as much desire as it did for those of us who lived in East Trail or the Gulch.

Forecasts of apocalyptic cataclysm are now as common as during the revival movement’s pinnacle: the invasion of AI, climate crisis, the exponential rise of poverty, famine, wars, and rumours of wars.

The basic message of the big revival tents was about hope. God’s presence could disrupt ordinary life in unexpected ways.

Despite stereotypes to the contrary, the best of the revival movement was not about emotion but about a shift in life and worldview: not ecstatic experiences but depth, power to change a life and a society with the Way of Jesus as the definition of a holy life, service rather than self-indulgence.

Although I have purged much of the language and themes of the revival movement, these I keep as core to the Good News. And that is why I still believe revival is worth remembering: not for the noise, but for the life it calls us to live.

If the God who sparked revival in the past is still present and moving in ways beyond what we can imagine, watch out!

A Blessing for Those Who Still Hope

May you remember the places where grace found you—
the worn hymn books, the canvas tents, the unexpected songs,
the voices that called you toward a deeper life.

May you give thanks for all that was holy,
and have courage to release what was only familiar.

May the Spirit of the Living God breathe upon you again:
with the quiet flame that warms the heart,
renews the mind,
and reshapes the life.

May you remain open to the God who interrupts—
 ordinary lives with extraordinary grace.

May you seek not simply an experience,
but revival.

The God who moved in the past
is not trapped there.

Stay awake.

Watch out.

Grace is on the loose.

*Chat GPT assisted in the development of this blessing.