MK Gantt Ministries

My hope is not built on the outcome of any election, nor does it rest in the power of the combined might of any military. My hope does not swing and sway with the NYSE, and I am not nearly so concerned with who inhabits the White House as I am with the One who sits upon the throne of Heaven.

I smile a bit when I see the armies of the earth begin to gather for war in the middle east; and in that, they believe it’s their idea. Perhaps, they have not read the Words of Yahweh in Joel 3:2 when He says, “For behold, in those days and at that time, when I restore the fortress of Judah and Jerusalem, I will gather all the nations and bring them down to the valley of Jehoshaphat where I will enter into judgment with them there on behalf of my people.” 

No, my hope is not built upon anything that can be bought, fashioned, made, formed, earned, printed, or elected; but upon Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

My calling is not to compel a godless corporation headed by some godless man to honor Christmas every December.  My calling is not to protect Christmas, but to exalt Christ.

My calling is not to spearhead a political conquest that will bring to power another human agency that, as every other administration before it, has only one wing. My singular quest is to magnify the One to whom a Name has been given that is highly exalted above every Name and Who shall rise with healing in His wings.

My calling is not to convince men to support my favored candidate, who in the end can do little to aid them;  but rather to urge men to call upon the only Name whereby all men must be saved.  My calling is not to defeat my enemy in the courtroom, but to shine the light of the world through my household to his household, that he and those who dwell with him might be drawn to Him who can save to the uttermost.  I am not called to fill the streets with strident cries of protest, but shout from the roof-tops, “Jesus is mighty to save.”  

My calling is not to protect my rights, for I have none. Those have been surrendered to the Ancient of Days, the Captain of the Hosts, the Alpha and Omega, the Lamb that was Slain; for He purchased me upon the Cross and any rights I may dream that I possess belong to Him now to give or to withhold.  

I have no rights, but I am filled with privilege. I am privileged to serve my King. I have no destiny but to know Him and the power of His resurrection. I already have my best life now, because my life is hidden in Him who ransomed me with His own blood. A man cannot take from me what only God can give and if a man can take it, I don’t need it.

American Christians are in the throes of an identity crisis. We simply aren’t really sure who we are, and what our calling is.  We are more concerned with pursuing the American Dream than looking for the Blessed Hope. We fear retribution from a broken culture more than we fear the wrath of God, and are content to let men enter eternity without Christ rather than offend them in this life. We have been bullied into silence in the marketplace because we trust more in our weekly paycheck rather than in the supply of heaven.

We preach grace without wrath, forgiveness without repentance, salvation without a cross, lordship without obedience, and love without demands. We castrate the Word of God to make it less offensive to sinners, and emasculate Christ to make Him a nicer, more accommodating Savior. We remove the whip from His hand and replace it with a feather to tickle the ears of self-absorbed men who want to enter Heaven, but on their own terms. We are filling concert halls and stadiums with men who are going to hell believing our false, emaciated gospel.

You may think me harsh, but my heart breaks because of what we have become. We believe we are powerful when we are weak.  We equate the approval of men with the anointing of God, numbers in our attendance with growth in the Kingdom; we follow style rather than substance and choose performance over worship.  We boast that the church is gaining ground while our culture crumbles around us, and our neighborhoods descend into ever increasing darkness.  

When He shall come with trumpet sound, Oh, may I then in Him be found; Dressed in His righteousness alone, Faultless to stand before the throne.