As though blowing oxygen upon the dying embers of a fire, pastor Jim Cymbala revived a broken-down church in a rough-shod inner-city neighborhood through Christian faith. Twenty-five years ago, the Brooklyn Tabernacle could barely draw 26 people to a Sunday service. Nowadays the congregation is 6,000 strong--filled with converted prostitutes, pimps, drug addicts, and homeless people, as well as yuppies and wholesome families. Although he's quick to give God credit for this miraculous success story, Cymbala admits that there may be a few human decisions that led to this Christian triumph. Most significantly, he made sure his church community embraced everyone, from all walks of life--no matter how distasteful or foreign. "Christians often hesitate to reach out to those who are different," according to Cymbala. "They want God to clean the fish before they catch them. If someone's gold ring is attached to an unusual body part, if the person doesn't smell the best or the skin color is not the same, Christians tend to hesitate." Thus, Cymbala encouraged his congregation to adopt the very same tolerant and accepting attitude as their God does. The results? Let's just say a church thrives in Brooklyn. Accomplished cowriter Dean Merrill helps this tender true story stay satisfying and highly readable. --Gail Hudson


From Booklist
Twenty-five years ago, Cymbala, worn out from pastoring two congregations, devoted himself solely to the dwindling band of worshipers at ramshackle Brooklyn Tabernacle. Today, the old building has been replaced, there are 6,000 worshipers at four Sunday services, the church choir wins Grammies and sings for Billy Graham's crusades, and Cymbala is asked to speak all over the world about how he did it. Although he believes he didn't do it--God did--Cymbala does have a secret: the church is first and foremost a house of prayer, he says, a place where souls can call on God. Accordingly, Cymbala established Tuesday-night prayer meeting as the most important church function (later, church members began a "Prayer Band" to intercede round the clock for all and sundry). With professional Christian writer Merrill's help, Cymbala tells not his church's story as much as the stories of individual souls whose saving illustrates the truth of his testimony that God responds to prayer made in repentance and faith. Cymbala considers his work part of the revivalist tradition of nondenominational Christian evangelism, and he cites 300 years' worth of the great revivals and revivalists often, adding greater interest to a book that voices some of the oldest Christian wisdom with the vivid immediacy of telling tomorrow's news. Ray Olson


Book Description
Pastor Jim Cymbala shares the lessons he learned when the Spirit ignited his heart and began to move through his people. This book is for anyone seeking to live at the center of God's purposes, through experiencing the power of his Spirit.


From the Publisher
The Brooklyn Tabernacle has become world-famous as a church ofmiracles, a church that has flourished amidst the poverty and crime of one of Brooklyn's harshest, most unforgiving neighborhoods. A place where professional men and women, former prostitutes, pimps, drug addicts, homeless people, and transvestites gather to worship their powerful and merciful God. Thid is a book that will lead you on a journey to spiritual awakening. In it, Jim Cymbala, pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, shares the heartcry of God to renew and revive his people - to call us back from spiritual dead ends leading only to apathy and lukewarm religion. It's time to take great risks with God, to listen closely for his voice, and to pray as though everything depends on God. This is a book that will break your heart and restore your vision. It will lead you into a deeper experience of all that God intends for your life.


From the Author
Jim Cymbala has been pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle for twenty-five years. In that time, the congregation has grown from twenty members to more that six thousand. He lives in Brooklyn, New York, with his wife, Carol Cymbala, who directs the world-famous Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. Dean Merrill has had a distinguished publishing career. The author of ten books, he is the former president of the Evangelical Press Association and a former vice president of Focus on the Family. He lives in Colorado Springs, Colorad


From the Back Cover
Pastor Jim Cymbala shares the lessons he learned when the Spirit ignited his heart and began to move through his people. This unforgettable story will set a fire burning in your heart to experience God's mercy, power, and love as though for the first time.


About the Author
Jim Cymbala has been the pastor of The Brooklyn Tabernacle for more than twenty-five years. The author of the best-selling titles Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire; Fresh Faith; and Fresh Power, he lives in New York City with his wife, Carol Cymbala, who directs the Grammy Award-winning Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.


Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
The Amateurs
I WAS STRUGGLING TOWARD the climax of my none-too-polished sermon that Sunday night back in 1972 when disaster struck. It was both pathetic and laughable all at once.
The Brooklyn Tabernaclethis woeful church that my father-in-law had coaxed me into pastoringconsisted of a shabby two-story building in the middle of a downtown block on Atlantic Avenue. The sanctuary could hold fewer than two hundred peoplenot that we required anywhere near that much capacity. The ceiling was low, the walls needed paint, the windows were dingy, and the bare wood floor hadnt been sealed in years. But there was no money for such improvements, let alone a luxury such as air-conditioning.
Carol, my faithful wife, was doing her best at the organ to create a worshipful atmosphere as I moved into my invitation, calling the fifteen or so people before me to maybe, just possibly, respond to the point of my message. Someone shifted on a pew to my left, probably not out of conviction as much as weariness, wondering when this young preacher would finally let everybody go home.
C-r-r-a-a-ck!
The pew split and collapsed, dumping five people onto the floor. Gasps and a few groans filled the air. My infant daughter probably thought it was the most exciting moment of her church life so far. I stopped preaching to give the people time to pick themselves up off the floor and replace their lost dignity. All I could think to do was to nervously suggest that they move to another pew that seemed more stable as I tried to finish the meeting.
In fact, this kind of mishap perfectly portrayed my early days in ministry. I didnt know what I was doing. I had not attended Bible college or seminary. I had grown up in Brooklyn in a Ukrainian-Polish family, going to church on Sundays with my parents but never dreaming of becoming a minister.
Basketball was my love, all through high school and then at the U.S. Naval Academy, where I broke the plebe scoring record my first year. Late that year I hurt my back and had to resign from the navy. I resumed college on a full athletic scholarship at the University of Rhode Island, where I was a starter on the basketball team for three years. In my senior year I was captain of the team; we won the Yankee Conference championship and played in the NCAA tournament.
My major was sociology. By then I had begun dating Carol Hutchins, daughter of the man who was my pastor back in junior high and high school. Carol was a gifted organist and pianist even though she had never been formally trained to read or write music. We were married in January 1969 and settled down in a Brooklyn apartment, both getting jobs in the hectic business world of Manhattan. Like many newlyweds, we didnt have a lot of long-term goals; we were just paying bills and enjoying the weekends.
However, Carols father, the Reverend Clair Hutchins, had been giving me books that piqued my desire for spiritual things. He was more than a local pastor; he made frequent trips overseas to preach evangelistic crusades and teach other pastors. In the States he was the unofficial overseer of a few small, independent churches. By early 1971 he was seriously suggesting that perhaps God wanted us in full-time Christian service.
Theres a church in Newark that needs a pastor, he commented one day. Theyre precious people. Why dont you think about quitting your job and stepping out in faith to see what God will do?
Im not qualified, I protested. Me, a minister? I have no idea how to be a pastor.
He said, When God calls someone, thats all that really matters. Dont let yourself be afraid.
And before I knew it, there I was, in my late twenties, trying to lead a tiny, all-black church in one of the most difficult mission fields in urban America. Weekdays found me spending hours in the systematic study of Gods Word while on Sundays I was learning how to convey that Word to people. Carols musical ability made up for some of my mistakes, and the people were kind enough to pay us a modest salary.
My parents gave us a down payment for a home, and we moved to New Jersey. Somehow we made it through that first year.
DOUBLE DUTY
THEN ONE DAY my father-in-law called from Florida, where he lived, and asked a favor. Would I please go preach four Sunday nights over at the multiracial Brooklyn Tabernacle, another church he supervised? Things had hit an all-time low there, he said. I agreed, little suspecting that this step would forever change my life.
The minute I walked in, I could sense that this church had big problems. The young pastor was discouraged. The meeting began on a hesitant note with just a handful of people. Several more walked in late. The worship style bordered on chaotic; there was little sense of direction. The pastor noticed that a certain man was presentan occasional visitor to the church who sang and accompanied himself on the guitarand asked him on the spot to come up and render a solo. The man sort of smiled and said no.
Really, Im serious, the pastor pleaded. Wed love to have you sing for us. The man kept resisting. It was terribly awkward. Finally the pastor gave up and continued with congregational singing.
I also remember a woman in the small audience who took it upon herself to lead out with a praise chorus now and then, jumping into the middle of whatever the pastor was trying to lead.
It was certainly odd, but it wasnt my problem. After all, I was just there to help out temporarily. (The thought that I, at that stage of my development as a minister, could help anyone showed how desperate things had become.)
I preached, and then drove home.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Ask God to ignite his fire in your soul! Pastor Jim Cymbala believes that Jesus wants to renew his people -- to call us back from spiritual dead ends, apathy, and lukewarm religion. Cymbala knows the difference firsthand. Twenty-five years ago, his own church, the Brooklyn Tabernacle, was a struggling congregation of twenty. Then they began to pray ... God began to move ... street-hardened lives by the hundreds were changed by the love of Christ ... and today they are eight thousand strong. The story of what happened to this broken-down church in one of America's meanest neighborhoods points the way to new spiritual vitality in the church and in your own life. Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire shows what the Holy Spirit can do when believers get serious about prayer and the Gospel. As this compelling book reveals, God moves in life-changing ways when we set aside our own agendas, take him at his word, and listen for his voice.

SYNOPSIS