by Steve McCranie | Mar 14, 2014
A report was just released from the Barna Research Group. Among other things, the new data from Barna shows, based on the most recent stats from a random sampling of more than 1,200 adult respondents across the country, that one of every five households has decreased its giving to churches or religious organizations in recent months.
What does this mean for the future trend of ministry today? Simply this.
For the compromised church, the church living large in the land of Laodicea, this trend could be the beginning of bad times. And I mean, real bad times.
Think about it, the entire modern, mega-church movement was born on the back of unbridled prosperity and rabid consumerism. Only in the land of plenty can masses be coaxed into attending a religious service (or show) where personal accountability and individual relationships are neither fostered nor encouraged. How could they be? How do you build a lasting relationship with someone you really don’t know? With someone you only meet on Sunday? Maybe?
When one group is ushered into the auditorium, like docile cattle, as another quickly exits, where is the format for building relationships, for bearing one another’s burdens, for… well, anything other than… “Here’s your playbill, enjoy the show, pay for your ticket on the way out.”
People become little more than the proverbial ships that pass in the night, totally unaware of each other’s presence. They are like commuter traffic at rush hour. All going in the same direction, they suppose, yet totally disconnected from those in the other cars. A wave, a smile, an occasional nod and relationship building is done. How sad.
Over time, they end up serving the machine, the monster, the professional troop on stage and never each other. Or the Lord, for that matter.
Odds are you won’t even sit next to the person you sat next to last week. So even the patented, “Hey, how are you? Just fine, and you? Great!” type of deep conversation cannot build from week to week.
But what happens when the casual Christian, the core base of most mega-churches, has to sacrifice in order to attend? Oh, one’s true priorities will always rise to the top. Vacations and designer jeans will win, church and non-profits will lose. After all, “Why should we give to the church? We don’t really know anybody there, do we?”
Nope. You really don’t. And that’s been OK with them, thus far.
But as giving declines, tough decisions must be made. Business decisions. Management decisions. Cuts and budget readjustments. Cost and benefit analyses. And they must be made by men who haven’t had to make tough decisions in the past and, quite honestly, are ill-equipped and ill-trained to make them.
“We’ve never had to cut back before? What are we to do?”
“We’ve always budgeted expenses, not income. I thought people would always give.”
“Whaddaya mean no Christmas bonus this year? That’s unfair. It’s not Christ-like!”
“Yada, yada, yada… whatever.”
Enough said. I’ll let you be the judge of what the future may bring.
Just think, the days of unbridled consumerism may soon be over.
I sure hope so. Don’t you?
* Just in case you were wondering, Bad Day at Black Rock is the title of a 1955 movie with Spencer Tracy and Robert Ryan. It’s a great little film. If you saw the movie, you’d understand why I chose it for the title of this post.


by Steve McCranie | Mar 8, 2014
The Everlasting Stain of Pride
It is not good to eat much honey, nor is it glory to search one’s own glory. Proverbs 25:27
In other words, just as people get sick and nauseous and ready to hurl from eating too much honey, they also get sick, real sick, of listening to those who constantly draw attention to themselves through faint praise, self-promotion or by simply putting someone else down.
We call that jealousy.
God calls it pride.
And the Scriptures have much to say about it.
Let’s take a quick look back at the Scriptures and see how the thread of pride, like a malignant cancer or mutating tumor, winds itself around the lives of those who claim to know and love God and subtly, over time, changes good, God-fearing people into a mob of self-seeking free agents. The flesh-exalting sin of pride stained each of them— and each of us, to such a degree that it required the blood of Christ to remedy.
Pride. The resilient, illusive, ever-present source of all sin.
Pride. It was pride, the original sin, that tempted Satan to exalt himself above God and to be cast down, banished from his place in heaven. “How you have fallen from heaven, O star (shining one) of the morning, son of the dawn!” (Isa. 14:12-14; 1 Tim. 3:6).
Pride. It was pride that allowed the serpent’s words to resonate deep within Eve’s heart, attaching themselves to her concept of self-worth and satisfaction with God’s creative order. It was pride that fostered in her a driving desire to be like God, to be better than God, to assume the worst about God, and to lust for His place of preeminence. When the serpent asked, “Did God really say?”— Eve’s pride willingly believed the lie. And, if truth be told, it was pride that caused Adam and Eve to lose their place in Eden and led to the fall of all mankind (Gen. 3:5-6).
Pride. It was pride that hardened the heart of Cain against his brother Able. It was Cain’s pride that demanded God accept his sacrifice regardless of what God required. After all, pride reasoned, “I’m bringing the best of my fields to God as my sacrifice and that should be good enough for Him. It’s the best I have to offer. It’s all I’m going to offer. And if God doesn’t accept what I want to bring… well, that’s His problem.” But Cain’s sacrifice wasn’t what God required. And, as the story goes, neither was it God’s problem. It was Cain’s pride that responded to God’s warning and rejection of his sacrifice by shedding the blood of his brother. “Hey God, You want blood as a sacrifice? Ok, I’ll give You blood. How ’bout Able’s blood!” (Gen. 4:1-8).
Pride. It was pride that prompted Lamech to boast to his wives about the murder he committed. “If Cain is avenged sevenfold, then Lamech seventy-sevenfold” (Gen. 4:23-24).
Pride. Under Nimrod’s leadership (whose name means “rebel”), it was pride that built the Tower of Babel. “Come,” they said, “Let us build for ourselves a city, and a tower, whose top will reach into heaven (or, whose top is heaven), and let us make for ourselves a name; (why) lest we be scattered abroad over the face of the whole earth” (Gen. 11:4).
Pride. It was pride that led to the deaths of Nadab and Abihu who disregarded the command of God and offered what they wanted, strange fire, before the Lord (Lev. 10:1-2).
Pride. It was the pride of Aaron and Miriam that brought about God’s judgment of leprosy on them because, dissatisfied with God’s plan, they sought to exalt themselves by questioning Moses’ leadership and God’s supreme plan. “Has the Lord only spoken through Moses? Has He not spoken through us as well?” (Num. 12:2).
Pride. It was pride that kept Moses from entering the Promise Land. Pride tempted Moses, the most humble of men, to exalt himself to the place of God in his own eyes regarding the people of Israel. Remember his words? “Listen now, you rebels, shall we bring forth water for you out of this rock?” (Num. 20:10). We? Tell me Moses, what part of this miracle did you do? What part are you in the “we” of all this?
Pride. It was pride that led Absalom to publicly rape David’s wives and try to remove, by the force of betrayal and rebellion, the king God had placed to rule His people, Israel. Why? Because pride caused Absalom to believe that he, and not God, knew who should be king in Israel.
Pride. It was the pride of Haman and his jealousy of Mordecai that compelled him to build the gallows, designed for Mordecai, that Haman’s body hung from (Est. 7:10).
Pride. It was the prideful words uttered from Nebuchadnezzar that drove him into the wilderness to live like an animal until he recognized and acknowledged the sovereignty of the Lord. He said, “Is this not Babylon the great, which I myself have built as a royal residence by the might of my power and for the glory of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). This was the question Nebuchadnezzar asked. And God answered in a way that only He could (Dan. 4:31-33).
Pride. Pride was the great sin of the Pharisees in Jesus’ time. They were outwardly religious like “white-washed tombs,” but inwardly they were rotten, corrupt and decayed like “dead men’s bones” (Matt. 23:27).
Pride. It was pride that prompted the mother of James and John to ask that her two boys get special, preferential treatment when Jesus came into His kingdom (Matt. 20:20-21).
Pride. And even during the Last Supper when Jesus was teaching His disciples about self-sacrifice by washing their feet, it was their pride that bickered among themselves as to who would be the greatest (Luke 22:24).
But, for me, there is even a more chilling example.
Diotrephes:
In 3 John 9-11 we read:
I wrote something to the church; but Diotrephes, who loves to be first among them, does not accept what we say. For this reason, if I come, I will call attention to his deeds which he does, unjustly accusing us with wicked words; and not satisfied with this, he himself does not receive the brethren, either, and he forbids those who desire to do so and puts them out of the church. Beloved, do not imitate what is evil, but what is good. The one who does good is of God; the one who does evil has not seen God.
John is writing this letter to a man named Gaius, a beloved elder in the church. It appears that in this church a powerful and influential man, Diotrephes, refused to allow hospitality to be shown to visiting itinerant teachers whom John had approved. Teachers like Demetrius, for example (3 John 12). In fact, it seems that the letter John wrote to the church regarding that very matter was intercepted by Diotrephes, the self-proclaimed resident gatekeeper, and deemed so sensitive to National Security that, taking his lead from our own Government, it was Classified and kept from the congregation.
Where is the Freedom of Information Act when you need it?
Why did Diotrephes do this? What was his motive? What was he trying to hide?
The letter from John states that Diotrephes “loves to be first among them,” or, to put it in the language of today, feels that he is the head-honcho in charge and everything that the church does must gain his approval.
Unfortunately for all of us, there are still many Diotrephes in the church today.
But there is something else in play here.
There is also an element of jealousy on the part of Diotrephes.
John was well known and beloved among the brethren of the church. He was one of the Twelve, the disciple Jesus loved, and his standing and credibility in the church was never in question.
Not so with Diotrephes.
He was jealous of John. Intimidated and green with envy.
When John was present, people dropped everything and flocked to hear him, for hours on end. And why not? After all, just being in his presence reminded them of being with Jesus. John was wise, seasoned, mature, beloved, respected, and full of wonderful, first-hand stories about the Lord. And if that wasn’t enough, it was John who had been given the visions of the future, the apocalyptic revelation of days yet to come.
At this time, what person on earth could compare with John? Who was more esteemed than he? More desired? More sought after?
Certainly not Diotrephes.
And he knew it.
Diotrephes wanted to be like John, to be respected and admired. He wanted to be regarded as spiritual, a natural leader, an anointed teacher— basically God’s gift to the church. He wanted in one day what took John a lifetime to achieve.
He wanted others to come to him, and not John, for the answers to their questions.
He wanted to be the one who set the vision for what God was going to do.
He wanted to be the final authority in all matters, spiritual or not.
He wanted all praise and glory and hope and adoration heaped on him.
He wanted to be the fourth person in the Godhead.
He wanted it all.
And he wanted it now!
Instead of waiting on the Lord to recognize and promote him to a position of true leadership within the congregation based, of course, on his likeness to Jesus, Diotrephes decided to take matters into his own hands. As the proverb warns, “Nor is it glory to search one’s own glory” (Prov. 25:27). Or, “For men to search their own glory is not glory.” It is self-promotion at best. And the root of it is pride.
Diotrephes, who imagined his perceived greatness should be seen by all, could not allow another’s greatness to outshine his. There was room for only one star in the heavens— and it was named Diotrephes.
Therefore, John was a threat.
John had to go.
So as is the custom in our culture, Diotrephes used his First Amendment right, his right to free speech, to malign and criticize John’s ministry, John’s leadership, and ultimately John’s authority. Pretty much the same stuff we do today when pride and jealousy raise their ugly heads among people in church.
Here is John’s response:
For this reason, if I come, I will call attention to his deeds which he does, unjustly accusing us with wicked words; and not satisfied with this, he himself does not receive the brethren, either, and he forbids those who desire to do so and puts them out of the church (3 John 10).
Carnal, heavy-handed bullying tactics within the church— and the sinister source of this sin, as always, is pride.
He accuses John to others with wicked words.
He personally refuses to recognize John’s authority and receive the itinerant teachers approved by John.
He then expands his iron-fisted control by forcing those who do not bend to his wishes out of the church. They are shunned from fellowship. Persecuted. Excommunicated.
And it appears the congregation does nothing to stand against this evil. Nothing.
Again, much like our church culture of today.
So what was John’s final word on Diotrephes? What did he finally do?
As a loving, caring, compassionate spiritual father to Gaius and the church, John took this crisis and carefully, strategically, crafted it into a teaching moment. One of those, “He who has ears to hear” moments he learned from his Master.
Listen to the application gleaned from the actions of Diotrephes.
Beloved, do not imitate what is evil, but what is good. The one who does good is of God; the one who does evil has not seen God. Demetrius has received a good testimony from everyone, and from the truth itself; and we add our testimony, and you know that our testimony is true (3 John 11-12).
In other words, you be different. You imitate what is good, and not what is evil. John urged Gaius not to imitate Diotrephes’ wicked behavior by refusing to welcome and accept Demetrius. Instead, he urged Gaius, and each one of us as well, to imitate what is good and just. Why? Because, as he said, “the one who does good is of God and the one who does evil (Diotrephes) has not seen God.”
In essence, lost people act like lost people. Even if they are members of your church.
Don’t be like them— even to the point of rejection.
Or persecution.
Or excommunication.
Or death.
Adveho quis may.
Come what may.


by Steve McCranie | Mar 2, 2014
Which Jesus do you follow?


My Jesus *
Which Jesus do you follow?
Which Jesus do you serve?
If Ephesians says to imitate Christ
Why do you look so much like the world?
Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the arrogant
So which one do you want to be?
Blessed are the poor in spirit
Or do we pray to be blessed with the wealth of this land
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst for righteousness
Or do we ache for another taste of this world of shifting sand?
Cause my Jesus bled and died for my sins
He spent His time with thieves and sluts and liars
He loved the poor and accosted the rich
So which one do you want to be?
Who is this that you follow
This picture of the American dream
If Jesus was here would you walk right by on the other side
Or fall down and worship at His holy feet?
Pretty blue eyes and curly brown hair and a clear complexion
Is how you see Him as He dies for your sins
But the Word says He was battered and scarred
Or did you miss that part
Sometimes I doubt we’d recognize Him
Cause my Jesus bled and died
He spent His time with thieves and the least of these
He loved the poor and accosted the comfortable
So which one do you want to be?
Cause my Jesus would never be accepted in my church
The blood and dirt on His feet might stain the carpet
But He reaches for the hurting and despises the proud
I think He’d prefer Beale Street to the stained glass crowd
And I know that He can hear me if I cry out loud
I want to be like my Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!
Not a posterchild for American prosperity, but like my Jesus
You see I’m tired of living for success and popularity
I want to be like my Jesus but I’m not sure what that means to be like You Jesus
Cause You said to live like You, love like You but then You died for me
Can I be like You Jesus?
I want to be like you Jesus!
I want to be like my Jesus!

Adveho quis may.
Come what may.
* From the album, Reflection of Something by Todd Agnew


by Steve McCranie | Feb 15, 2014
The following is from RC Sproul, Jr. It is a wonderful reminder that sometimes God, in His sovereignty, has plans for us that we didn’t ask for nor desire. But they are His plans, nonetheless. Also, as a bit of background, RC’s wife has been suffering with a debilitating illness for quite some time.

Doing Great Things
We first learned that my little girl Shannon would always be a little girl, when we discovered about her first birthday that she was profoundly disabled. My father, a deeply compassionate man, asked how I was handling the news. I told him that I had been preparing for this moment all my life. If anyone should be able to rest in the sovereignty of God it is me. The sovereignty of God is the cornerstone of Reformed theology, which theology I have been schooled in from my youth by one of its greatest living proponents.
The sovereignty of God, rightly understood, was the very core of my father’s best known work, The Holiness of God. The doctrine came front and center in his next book, Chosen by God. I was a young man when those books were first published. Like many others I ate them up, drank them in, and like too many young men, spat out their wisdom with precious little grace and care. I reveled in God’s sovereignty, and delighted in nothing more than to argue for, to defend, to proclaim that sovereignty.
That all changed, however, when I read still another book by my father, this one born of a family hardship. Surprised by Suffering begins with the still-born birth of my niece, Alissa. From there the book explores not just the truth that God ordains our suffering but why. The point that has stuck with me over the years was this – suffering isn’t something that happens, nor it is just something God permits. It is instead a vocation, a calling. God does not merely say, “I’m going to make you go through this.” Instead He says, “It is My desire for you that you should go through this. Follow Me.”
All of us, when we are brought into the kingdom, in joyful gratitude for the grace of God, want to do great things for the kingdom. Having been rescued by His glorious grace, we want in turn to rescue others, to serve the body, to proclaim the Good News. God has called us to do just that. He calls out heroes who take the message to strange and foreign lands. He calls out pastors who feed the sheep. He calls out teachers, like my father, who explain to the broader body the fullness of the gospel. Some, however, He calls to suffer.
My wife, for this part of His story, is called to suffer. Her role right now is to do this great thing for the kingdom – to be Jesus to us, so that we might be Jesus to her. She is Jesus to us because as we serve her, we remember His promise, that serving the least of these is serving Him (Matthew 25). We, in turn, are Jesus to her, precisely because the church is His body. When we pray for her, she rests in Jesus’ arms. When we bring a meal, she tastes Jesus feeding her. When we dry her eyes, she feels Jesus wiping away her tears.
Hers is not an easy calling. It is, however, a great one. Being Jesus means walking the via dolorosa.
How blessed I am to walk that road with her, and with Him.

