The only acceptable way to preach the blood of Christ is through a broken heart. The preacher must be devastated, grieved; his heart must be in tune with God's, because our God is a hurt and grieving God.
If I am to preach salvation, I should first pray for tears, for pain, for remorse. I must feel the same pain God feels, weep the same tears my Lord wept. These tears are able to dissolve the scab on my sin-apathetic heart. The universal indifference; the aborted babies, the public blasphemies, the church's harlotry with the world, the arrogant mockery, the abuse and hatred men express at my Father and the cross of Christ - all these must move me to tears if I am to deliver a transforming gospel. Indeed, if these can not move me to tears, how then can I say I love my God with all my being? And if I truly loved my neighbor as myself, I would fight and plead and pray and fast until souls are aborted from hell and birthed into God's Kingdom.
Christian, the cross must be preached, even unto death! Even when sinners despise and brothers criticize. Even if no one will come with me or support my burden. The cross must be preached where the people gather, where they commute; lost souls must hear the gospel even if they hate the messenger. Jesus said the true Christian would be hated, despised, rejected, mocked. He said that no student is greater than his teacher. Rejection and self-denial are the true costs of following Jesus Christ, and I'll wear this garment of pain like a royal robe of blessing. I have resolved that my entire life is all for Christ; I crave to be consumed in His presence. His smile on my life is my sole reward.
I am unworthy for such a majestic calling as to preach the blood of Jesus Christ! Created from the dust, yet called to preach God's own shed blood, I must never be seen. I must always pray the Father reduce my being to absolute dirt, because that is all I am. Redeemed refuse once headed for the incinerator. I must remain broken and burdened, lowly and pained. I can not be bothered with insignificant agendas and programs, with vain hobbies and crude conversations while sinners perish. I must keep my focus on the bloodstained cross and hell bound lost. I know my God wills this, for He always diverts my attention back to it when I stray.
Yes, brothers and sisters, have preached the cross, but I regret seldom through tears of pain, and if there is one prayer that is utmost in my devotions, it is this: God grant me agony as I preach repentance to the lost. Everything physical God can keep if only He give me this weeping passion for lost souls in my preaching. Oh, that the unction would go deep down into my spirit! That those within earshot would wring their hands in despair in the presence of God's Spirit. That the lost would turn a deathly pale and fall to their knees in awareness that their sins have nailed the Son of God to the cross. Oh, that the miracle of repentance - true repentance - would be wrought through my preaching. Saints, what greater thing could be granted upon this temporal earth! Tears for the hell bound!
Satan does all he can to distract the true preaching of the cross. Any man that determines in his heart to gain the burden of God and preach the blood of Calvary will soon have a vicious demonic fight on his hands. I have found that Satan's most effective weapon has always been just plain old distractions. Distractions are like Satan's spiritual napalm, because they spread quickly and cause so much damage in so little time. Distractions are like hissing snakes, and Satan sinks the fangs daily. Somehow, and by my own volition, I often find myself too mentally preoccupied to effectively witness, pray, and give God deep devotional time. My spirit yearns for the opposite, and I have noticed that turning the tables on the flesh is an arduous and painstaking task.
Beloved, before I asked God for the burden to weep for the lost, Satan left me alone. I read my Bible diligently; I witnessed and volunteered all I had for church programming. I preached my heart out every Friday night! Everything was going fine; I was a model Christian! There was only one problem: Satan was leaving me alone. But as soon as I asked for tears and agony, the tables turned against me. When I burdened in my gut to take the gospel out to the streets, the heavy artillery started flying. And when I endeavored to meet God daily in radical prayer, Satan hit me with major napalm.
One thing I am sure of: Christians living unburdened lifestyles do not burden hell. The minister of the bloodstained cross of Jesus Christ is a burden for hell. The uncompromised preaching of repentance is a clamoring alarm in hell, and the man or woman who takes it outside the church and into the streets must be stopped at all costs! This is when the napalm hits! Satan's assaults have one goal: to keep me from reading my Bible and praying, from whence I get power from God. Satan's plan of attack is to cut off the fellowship that feeds the flames of eternity within the heart of the preacher.
God is looking for infantrymen that will go and invade the enemy territory, take down the guards, and set the captives free. Some Christians attend workshops, but Jesus needs soldiers that are prepared to roll up their sleeves, strap on the armor and wreak havoc with mighty swords. Action is involved. There is a fight to be fought, prayers to be prayed, a living gospel to be preached.
It's a violent camp, Satan's kingdom. Prayers alone will not bash down the walls; consecrated men and women filled with the Holy Ghost must physically go into the highways and hedges preaching repentance. Oh, God pity us if we do not preach this living gospel of blood and fire!
- Paul West