Leaving Sesame Street to Go Back to Azusa Street

Modern experts have tried to teach us how to trick people into coming to church, but at Azusa Street, they stampeded to the altar, drawn by God alone—without any tricks.

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The cry of my heart is that men and women of God, who are cooped up, will get fed up. My hope is that vessels of God, who are locked down, will get fired up. I am asking God to ruin them for anything other than His work!

I am hoping that God will hit them with a combination punch.  A straight jab that will awaken anger over the spirit of death and despair that is suffocating the greatest nation on earth. Followed by a right hook that will disgust them into admitting they have been living in fear of what people think.

I want you to see Satan yelling, “Yo’ Mamma!” right at you. Pastors, I want you to burn all your books on church growth, and start praying against the sorry guru who suckered you into using their putrefying programs.

Get sick! Not with a virus, but with yourself. Sick for letting boards and deacons scare you. Sick because you continually fretted over who might get offended. Sick because you stare out at the parking lot, counting cars, instead of looking up to heaven. And sick of the sermons that seem as if they were designed for Big Bird and the Cookie Monster.

Yeah, I’ll say it: My cry is that when the doors of Spirit-filled churches reopen, they will leave Sesame Street and run back to Azusa Street.

Nothing in this blog is radical. Nothing in this blog is negative or divisive. The problem with me is that I have been around too long and have seen too much. There is nothing more dangerous than an individual who understands why they are Pentecostal. There is no one more unstoppable than the person who has been baptized in the Holy Spirit and who has experienced the tongues of fire.

I want you to rage against limp-wristed preaching, fog machines, romantic lighting, and that atmosphere that’s about as life-giving as the waiting room at a DMV.

A scourge from hell has attacked our nation! That is why we need heroes! Thank God for the first responders, the courageous nurses, and the doctors. Thank God for our President who has been valiantly battling the swamp creatures.  But it is time for a new group of heroes to appear: Christians who are full of the fire of God!

The testimony of Azusa Street needs to hit us like a Mack Truck.  William Seymour, who oversaw the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at the turn of the century, had none of our advantages, but we have none of his results. The glory and presence of God turned a rundown hall into a magnet for the entire world.  Today, that movement is 650 million strong.

Modern experts have tried to teach us how to trick people into coming to church, but at Azusa Street, they stampeded to the altar, drawn by God alone—without any tricks. Brother Seymour began the most powerful outpouring of the Holy Spirit in modern history in an old rented building that was once a stable. It was so primitive that many times he would pray with his head hidden between two wooden milk crates that served as his pulpit. Then heaven would burst open and the presence of God would fall on those present. It wasn’t a choreographed meeting. It wasn’t a slick presentation. It was raw glory.

Don’t be the fool who says modern society is too sophisticated for Pentecost. “The weapons of our warfare are not physical [weapons of flesh and blood]. Our weapons are divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying sophisticated arguments and every exalted and proud thing that sets itself up against the [true] knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought and purpose captive to the obedience of Christ…” (2 Corinthians 10:4,5 AMPLIFIED, 1974 ed.)

I love that translation! Destroying sophisticated arguments! Nothing new has come down the pike that can withstand the conviction of the Holy Spirit. The devil can’t form a weapon that will prosper against a truly Spirit-filled army.

Oh God, let it be! Let frustration build like magma in a volcano! Let the silliness of our human designs task us. Let our old sermon notes torture us. Awaken, O Lord, the greatest sleeping giant in the world—The American Spirit-filled church of Jesus Christ!

 

 

This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Mario Murillo

Featured Image by Thomas Kinto on Unsplash

 

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About the Author

Mario Murillo is a Kingdom Winds Contributor. Mario is recognized as a dynamic evangelist whose ministry sees multi­tudes receive salvation, healing, and deliverance. He has long carried a burden to see a Great Awakening in America. Now, he is being raised up as an urgent prophetic voice, calling the people of God to take their place as the watchmen, prophetic voices, and miracle-workers they have been anointed to be.