The People’s Revival

In the 1970s, Abbie Hoffman wrote Steal This Book — a field manual for surviving empire and outsmarting systems built to keep you hungry.

This is that — but for the soul.

Steal this ministry.

Not because it’s mine, but because it never should have belonged to anyone in the first place.

Everything I’m doing — the mercy work, the hubs, the open tables, the street-level revival — it’s yours already.

Take it.

Run with it.

Start your own.

The Kingdom doesn’t need headquarters. It needs hands.

You don’t need my permission — you already have Christ’s commission.

Stand-Out Truth

We’ve been trained to believe ministry is something you join.

It’s not.

It’s something you live.

You don’t have to wait for a pastor, a budget, or a board meeting.

You don’t need a pulpit.

You just need people — and a little bit of bread to break.

If the institutions won’t come to the streets, then the streets will become the sanctuary.

If the church won’t open its doors, then we’ll build the altar in an alley.

Steal this ministry means: take every good thing God’s ever done in you, and give it away like it’s on fire.

How to Steal a Ministry

Find your few. Two or three are enough. That’s how Christ started His. A kitchen table, a living room, a porch — that’s your temple.

Share what you have. Food. Time. Wisdom. Rent money. A shoulder. A socket wrench. The gospel begins with generosity, not doctrine.

Serve in silence, not spectacle. You don’t need cameras or approval. You need consistency. Power doesn’t change the world — presence does.

Preach with your life. When the poor eat because of you, that’s your sermon. When the lonely feel seen, that’s your altar call. When you forgive the people empire says to hate — that’s your revival.

This Is Not a Franchise

Don’t join my thing. Build our thing.

If you see something in The People’s Revival, copy it.

Print it. Remix it. Build on it.

There’s no brand here — only bread.

You don’t have to call it by the same name.

Just let the Light be the same flame.

Let the mercy look the same in your neighborhood that it does in mine.

If a hub rises in Detroit, or Tulsa, or Belfast, it doesn’t belong to me.

It belongs to God — and to whoever is willing to show up with love and work gloves.

Principle of Permission

If you’re waiting for someone to tell you it’s okay to act — this is it.

If you’re waiting for a movement to join — this is it.

If you’re waiting for a sign — this is it.

No one owns the Kingdom.

No one can license compassion.

No one can trademark mercy.

So go.

Start the thing.

Feed the people.

Love without a logo.

We’ve been told ministry means platform. It doesn’t. It means presence.

We’ve been told revival comes from stages. It doesn’t. It comes from kitchens, alleys, and broken hearts that still believe.

The Holy Spirit’s work isn’t waiting in green rooms —it’s already out there in the streets, waiting for someone with enough courage to walk into the dark and turn the light on.

Call to Action

Steal this ministry.

Take everything I’m doing — the mercy work, the hubs, the rhythm, the love, and do it your own way, wherever you are.

There’s no copyright on compassion.

No licensing fee on light.

Build tables, not brands.

Break bread, not hearts.

Find your people and bring them home.

You don’t need me to lead you.

You already have the Spirit.

You already have permission.

So go.

Steal this ministry — and give it away.