This article first appeared in the print journal Jan./Feb. 1999.

Revival is typically something churches schedule. But down at Brownsville Assembly of God in Pensacola, Florida, revival is something that broke out on Father’s Day 1995, and it hasn’t stopped since, making the so-called Pensacola Outpouring one of the longest lasting congregational-based revivals in American history.

Richard Crisco, Brownsville’s youth minister, was initially skeptical about the emotionalism of the revival. He worried that in the hothouse atmosphere of spiritual awakening, believers would begin substituting experiences for discipleship, feelings for the fundamentals of the faith. “I don’t care if people shake, or fall, or speak in tongues,” he tells me. “I want to see a difference in their lives.

“In the midst of all my feelings when revival broke out was intense fear. Everyone else was excited, but I was scared. I saw potential for trouble. I knew that I could end up with a bunch of shallow, emotional teenagers who were merely living off of the experience.”

Soon, though, Crisco was seeing plentiful evidence of transformed lives all around him. Some of the brats and snots he’d struggled with for years became saints and angels. Kids who’d been lukewarm or worse began to get on fire for God. Bickering and petty rivalries disappeared, only to be replaced by a deep hunger for things of the Spirit. Instead of demanding that the group organize parties and recreational activities, young people began spending their evenings and weekends in lengthy prayer sessions.

“I got saved in revival and my whole lifestyle has changed,” says 16-year-old Sara. “If you want to sin you can’t because you have so many people around you to keep you accountable.”

Attendance at youth group meetings soared from a pre-revival average of around 100 to a post-revival average of more than 400, and around 700 kids turned out for weekly youth services. So Crisco made a bold move: He upped the ante on his kids, creating demanding new programs that require youngsters to keep logs of their prayer lives, their efforts at witnessing to others about their faith, and the time they spend studying the Bible.

The “Master Plan” Regimen

Crisco’s “Master’s Plan Discipleship Program” is based on his two ministry foundations: The Great Commandment (love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself) and the Great Commission (take the gospel into all the world). He says the program—based on Student Discipleship Ministries’ daily devotional guide for young people—encourages kids both to go deeper with God and to take their faith into the world. “It’s so simple it’s embarrassing,” he says. “I’ve added to it my own list of Bible readings, so that every day, our kids are reading a chapter from the Old Testament, a chapter from the New Testament, and a chapter from the book of Proverbs—plus memorizing key Bible verses every week. In addition, there are a series of activity sheets that help the kids keep track of various things.

“There’s a daily prayer journal. There’s a sheet for keeping track of a person they witness to each week. There’s a check-off for fasting from one meal per week. And there are places for notes on all the sermons and messages they hear.”

As tough as the program is, Crisco says hundreds of churches around the country are now using it—and there are even a few dozen youths at the church for whom the program is not tough enough. For these hardy young souls, Crisco has developed something he calls the “Ultimate Training Core.” Young people who want to be involved in leadership in Brownsville’s youth programs must complete both the “Master’s Plan” program and the “Ultimate Training Core.”

According to a program manual, the purpose of the UTC is “to produce heavily armed warriors that will not be shaken by the quakes of the dark side…The world has been [a witness to] ‘casual Christianity’ long enough. It is time for a group to rise far and beyond that which is expected of [it].”

The UTC program is run by two young people Crisco has been discipling for years: 21-year-old Mike Wood and 22-year-old Ruth Moore. Every Sunday morning for 10 weeks, Wood and Moore run their charges through a grueling course which includes sessions on leadership training, lesson-plan development, and personal spiritual growth. In addition to the “Master Plan” requirements, those youths taking the UTC course must commit to daily quiet times and 30 minutes of daily intercessory prayer.

“The leader isn’t going to bicker because he has a minimum requirement,” says Wood, issuing a challenge to the kids. “If he’s required to pray for 30 minutes, he’s going to pray for 40. He’s going to go far and beyond.”

The UTC course also contains something called the “Thorn in the Flesh.” This consists of a series of hard questions the UTC youth must answer, such as: “Am I closer to the Lord today than I was yesterday?” and “Have you been in or allowed yourself to be in an inappropriate situation this week?”

Moore says such questions don’t constitute badgering, they merely help along the way. “You’re not ordinary youths,” she says. “There’s a higher calling on you, and it’s time to step up to it. We’re not asking you to do anything we’re not doing ourselves.”
But that’s not all. Crisco—who also teaches youth ministry at the two-year-old Brownsville Revival School of Ministry—emphasizes love and respect for his kids. The result is that many affectionately call him “Papa Rickey,” even though he doesn’t shy away from coming down hard on his kids when they need it.

Crisco is also an outspoken critic of the American approach toward dating, which he calls “a lie from the pit of hell.” He tells his kids to save their bodies and their hearts for one person—a future lifelong partner. And more than 250 of his kids have signed a courtship pledge intended to help them do just that. This pledge is a covenant that kids enter into with their parents, agreeing to submit to their parents’ guidance in finding them suitable marriage partners. “Next to giving their lives to Jesus, the most important decision young people make is who they spend their future with,” says Crisco.

But Brownsville’s programs don’t run by themselves. “Programs without the love of God are just diddly squat,” he tells his youth ministry class. “The greatest thing you can do for your teens is to become a man or a woman of God.”

Stepping from behind his classroom lectern, Crisco begins pacing the floor and looking his youth ministry students directly in their eyes. “You teach what you know, but you reproduce what you are. Your kids will ultimately end up being like you,” he lectures. “If you’ve been a youth pastor at a church for three years and your kids are hopping into bed with each other, I suggest you take a look at your lust life. If you’ve been there three years and your kids are having problems with gossip and backbiting, I suggest you take a hard look at the things you’re saying about people behind their backs. You teach what you know, but you reproduce what you are.”

Humility in the Limelight

The Brownsville revival has been visited by more than two million people, making international religious superstars out of evangelist Steve Hill, pastor John Kilpatrick, and worship leader Lindell Cooley. But Crisco is content to remain in the background.

“I’ve always been satisfied being a nobody,” he says.

He gets hundreds of invitations to speak, but he turns most of them down, saying he finds more joy and purpose in Brownsville’s youth ministry events and his relationships with his kids. “I’m just going to continue pouring my life into my young people. I can change the world more this way than I can by traveling around.”

Adapted from Steve Rabey’s book, Revival in Brownsville: Pensacola, Pentecostalism, and the Power of American Revivalism (Thomas Nelson)