I love the raw drama of the book of Acts. It's our benchmark, our context; it's a gauntlet thrown down, and hand in hand with it, Corinthians. It’s a church that came behind in none of the gifts - they excelled, a bit like your church.
No doubt, you just said or thought, "Hmm?" Pause. Stare into space. Slurp Coffee. Continue.
There’s a real audacity that the early Church lived by: a bold, unapologetic expectation that the Spirit of God was not a theory, not a doctrine to be filed away, but a dynamic Person, present and powerful in their midst, who does 'stuff'. They didn’t gather for mere comfort or routine. They gathered with the fire of expectation, with the tremor of anticipation, not for spectacle, but for transformation.
Question: have we settled? Have we grown familiar, polite, and over-civilised in our propriety, in our theology, and passive in our pursuit? I am going to be kind. Some have grounded themselves with a theological earth wire, insulated from the voltage of heaven, made peace with predictability, and forgotten what it feels like to tremble under the hand of God. That has to be on the ticklist for change.
The gifts of the Holy Spirit are not ornamental, kept in the cupboard, wrapped in tissue and old newspaper cuttings about revival; they’re operational. Tongues, prophecy, healing, discernment, words of knowledge - not random stories, but highly strategic tools given for the edification of the body and the powerful advance of the gospel.
Paul says it plainly in 1 Corinthians 12: the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. Not for a few, not for show, but for the building of Christ’s church. For you and me. But if that sister or brother is away, who’s going to be there stepping out in the gifts for me and you when we might need them? And what about us, being ready to serve others ourselves? These gifts are heaven’s answer to earth’s ache.
My big longing is for a corona discharge. That moment when the atmosphere becomes so charged, so electric with divine presence, that everything natural must yield. We’re not chasing goosebumps - but we are yearning for a church alive with the fire of God, the cackling, pulsing presence of the Holy Spirit. Not just good coffee and clever TED talks, but power. Real power. The sort that grips us inside, draws us to our knees or prostrates us on the floor, not in fear, but in holy awe. Changes us.
Years have passed for the Charismatic church, once there were T-shirts with words like Toronto, Brownsville, Sunderland - but they have faded, the stitching worn and shrunk by circumstance and the passage of time. What were those times like? I was invited to Toronto, and on a Monday evening, the building closed - with no public access - I found myself alone in the main auditorium. No sound. No people. But God was there. So intense was His presence, my insides were churning. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought the Ark of the Covenant was in the building.
So when God turns up? Hair standing on end? That’s not charisma - that’s current. That’s the Spirit moving through hearts, confronting sin, healing wounds, reviving dry bones. You know it when it happens - because nothing stays the same. People are delivered. Minds are renewed. The Word comes alive. The room changes temperature. And it’s not because we orchestrated a great setlist and a pretend-glory smoke machine, but because heaven stepped in, with size 12 wellies.
I'm speaking from lived experience. This isn’t a call to chaos or emotional hype. This is a call to biblical normalcy. New Testament Christianity was soaked in the supernatural. It wasn’t weird - it was expected. Peter didn’t pause to explain the theology of healing at the gate; he just said, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk” (Acts 3:6, ESV). The man stood. Simple. Undeniable. Next.
So why not brace yourself... step out? Step up. Step in. Don’t live a 2025 version of Christianity that doesn’t require the Holy Spirit to show up. Let’s be done with that and with passive legalism - that slow, soul-numbing drift into behaviour without belief, form without fire. The Spirit was given not just to comfort us, but to empower us - to equip the saints for the work of ministry, to bring the fragrance of Christ into a decaying world. Oh my - don't we need that right now?
Here's my word from God for you: "It’s time to expect again." To ask. To wait. To welcome. To move. Jesus told us the Father loves to give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him (Luke 11:13). So ask. And then live like you actually received Him. It’s called faith. Let your church gatherings be statically charged with faith. Let your prayers be bold. Let your love be prophetic. Let your gospel be demonstrated.
The Church of Jesus Christ is not a 1950s move-of-God museum. It’s a movement. It’s not built on human energy, but on the Spirit’s empowering presence. We’re not here to maintain - we’re here to multiply. To proclaim the gospel with power and clarity. To live lives that demand a supernatural explanation.
So unplug the earth wire of your faith and prepare to be changed. The Spirit is here - and He’s ready to move. I’m sure you are ready to respond. Thank you!