Advent lights a final candle and calls it love. But was love for God found in that manger? God’s love most certainly was—He sent His Son into the world, wrapped in flesh, laid in a smelly stall because there was no room inside. That was love incarnate.
Yet even then, it stood in stark contrast to the hearts of men. Cold toward God, busy chasing worthless idols, fearful of authority, hardened by religion. The same voices that ignored Him at His birth would later cry, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!” (Luke 23:21).
Love is not found in ritual candles or seasonal sentiment. It is found in the cross. “God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). That is once‑for‑all love—eternal, unrepeatable, unshakable.
The Advent candle flickers sentimentally, but the cross blazes with eternal love. Love is not seasonal—it is finished.
Prophetic Closing
Do not mistake ritual for reality. God’s love was revealed in a manger, but fulfilled at the cross. The Christ Mass fails to display it, because true love is not a flicker—it is the once‑for‑all sacrifice of Christ. Stop chasing idols and seasonal shadows. Receive the love that was proven once, forever.
When Christian artist Forrest Frank announced he would no longer attend award shows, although being nominated for seven Dove Awards. He struck a nerve. His reasoning was simple: “I will not receive a trophy for something that is from Jesus and for Jesus. I already have the greatest award, my name written in the Book of Life.”
The post went viral, drawing both applause and critique. Some hailed it as a prophetic refusal to let the industry define worth. Others saw inconsistency: Frank still profits from concerts, streams, and $100 “Child of God” hoodies. Country star Jelly Roll quipped that if trophies are too worldly, why not apply the same logic to merchandise? Kings Kaleidoscope added a practical note: if you don’t want awards, don’t publish your music.
This debate is bigger than one artist. It exposes the uneasy marriage between ministry and marketplace.
Applause vs. Awards
Applause at a concert is spontaneous, relational, and fleeting. An award is institutional, formalized, and enduring. Both are forms of recognition, but one feels like shared worship while the other risks becoming a coronation. Frank is drawing his line at the latter.
The Workman and His Wages
Paul made tents. Peter fished. Farmers farmed. Carpenters built. Each earned a living from their craft. Paul even insisted, “The laborer is worthy of his wages.”
So why do we expect ministers and musicians to work for free? Why do we honor the baker for selling bread but shame the evangelist for selling books or shirts? As one who once sold Christian T-shirts to fund ministry, I know firsthand: people gave willingly, not under compulsion. Love offerings maybe light on offering but heavy on love; merchandise often carried the ministry further.
The Real Issue: Posture, Not Profit
The problem is not applause, awards, or income. The problem is when:
Applause becomes the aim instead of the overflow.
Awards become the altar instead of a testimony.
Income becomes the idol instead of provision.
Frank’s refusal of trophies is his way of guarding posture. Others draw the line differently. Romans 14 reminds us: “Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.”
In Conclusion
The question isn’t whether Christian artists should profit or accept recognition. The question is:
Does my labor point people to Christ or to me?
Does my livelihood serve the gospel or overshadow it?
Does my recognition become a crown I wear—or one I cast at His feet?
Forrest Frank’s stand is not everyone’s stand. But it forces us to face a deeper tension. We must figure out how to live, work, and create in a world where ministry and marketplace collide.
Trophies tarnish. Applause fades. Hoodies wear out. But the crown of life endures. And that’s the only award worth fighting for.
You must be logged in to post a comment.