Oh, how we in the church - and specifically in the pulpit - need a knee-bending, tear streaming revival of the heart for the lost!
In 2004, allow me to echo Leonard Ravenhill as far back as 1950:
"Preachers who have homes and cottages by the lake, a boat on that lake, and a big bank balance, still beg for more. With such extortionists and unjust men, can God entrust Holy Ghost revival? These dear, doll-like preacher-boys no longer change their suits once a day, but two or three times a day. They preach the Jesus of the stable, but themselves live in swank hotels. For their own lusts they bleed the audience financially in the Name of the One who had to borrow a penny to illustrate His sermon. They wear expensive, Hollywood suits in honor of the One who wore a peasant's robe. They feast on three-dollar steaks in remembrance of the One who fasted alone in the desert. Today as evangelist is not only worthy of his hire (so he thinks), but of compound interest. How fearful will all this be in the judgment morning!"
With the exception of the three buck steak, this could have been written this morning.
We have fewer and fewer folks saved today because of the cheap commercialization of the Gospel!
Listen to a watered down sermon long enough, listen to the TV hawkers of easy-believism long enough, listen to the boogie-woogie beat gospel long enough -- and the world perishes in the midst of it all.
But just be sure to send in that dollar.
Tears for the lost?
Surely you jest, preacher boy.
