Golden Moments Report

Pastor Grant McCrae — "Let's Have Church"

Franklin Avenue Baptist Church

Golden Moment #1: The Seat and the Perspective

"If we can sit in different sections and different places in the sanctuary and still be in the same church, right? We can sit in different places and still be in the same building. Watch this. Different seats, different perspectives, different views, but one God, one savior, one united reason that we came through the doors. And I wonder sometimes if our seat influences our perspective, which impacts our praise. Because depending upon where you're sitting, you can see everything. You can see who came in late. You can see who's on their phone. You can see who's worshiping and you can see who's not. But when you get a little bit higher, your view starts to change. And the higher you go, the more you start to see things differently."

Why this moment works: Pastor McCrae opens with something every person in that room can see with their own eyes — the physical architecture of the sanctuary — and immediately transforms it into a spiritual diagnostic. The move from the literal to the metaphorical is seamless and earned. He doesn't announce the illustration; he lets the congregation walk into it.

Rhetorically effective: This is a masterclass in contextual preaching. By using the room itself as his opening illustration, McCrae creates immediate buy-in — no one can opt out because everyone is already inside the illustration. The rhetorical question "I wonder if our seat influences our perspective, which impacts our praise" is perfectly constructed: it's inviting rather than accusing, curious rather than condemning, and it plants the sermon's central tension before the congregation even realizes a tension has been introduced.

Why congregants will share it: People will walk out of that sanctuary and look up at the third level and remember this moment. The image is sticky because it is spatially anchored — every time they return to that building, the illustration returns with it. They'll describe it to friends who weren't there: "He said our seat changes our perspective, which changes our praise."

Golden Moment #2: Somewhere Between Surviving and Succeeding

"When we were down low, we praised differently. When we were struggling, we prayed differently. When we didn't have much, we worshiped differently. When we were waiting on God, we talked differently. However, somewhere between 'Lord, if you make a way,' and 'Lord, look what you blessed me with,' something changed. Somewhere between surviving and succeeding. Somewhere between praying for the door to open and walking through it. Somewhere between asking God to keep the lights on when you don't have enough money to pay the bill, our praise started to change."

Why this moment works: The parallel structure here is preaching at its most musical. McCrae builds a rhythmic ladder — each rung a recognizable moment in a believer's journey — and the congregation doesn't just hear it, they feel it in their bodies. The contrast between the two prayer postures ("Lord, if you make a way" versus "Lord, look what you blessed me with") is devastating in the best possible sense. It's specific enough to convict but broad enough to include nearly everyone in the room.

Theologically sound: This moment is doing serious theological work beneath its rhetorical beauty. It is diagnosing what the Psalms call "forgetting" — the spiritual amnesia that prosperity can produce. McCrae is not condemning blessing; he is exposing the subtle idolatry of comfort. That is a prophetic instinct rooted in the whole biblical narrative, from Deuteronomy's warnings to Israel to Jesus's parable of the prodigal son.

Why congregants will share it: The phrase "somewhere between surviving and succeeding" is the kind of line that gets texted to a friend on Monday morning. It names a spiritual experience that many believers have lived but never had language for. That is the mark of preaching that endures beyond Sunday.

Golden Moment #3: Don't Let What God Gave You Forget Who Gave It

"I'm not saying that God didn't bless you. He did. Thank God for the blessing. Thank God for the promotion. Thank God for the house. Thank God for the car. Thank God for the family. Thank God for the increase. But come here for a moment and let me remind you — don't let what God gave you forget who gave it to you. Because sometimes we get so comfortable and we forget how desperate we used to be for his presence. And that's what I believe God has called me here today to do — is to remind us. Not to beat us up. Not to make us feel guilty. But to pull back the veil."

Why this moment works: The pivot from affirmation to exhortation here is handled with pastoral precision. McCrae spends just enough time celebrating the blessing before he delivers the warning, which means the warning lands without feeling like an attack. The line "don't let what God gave you forget who gave it to you" is the sermon's theological thesis compressed into a single unforgettable sentence.

Pastorally wise: Many preachers would have moved straight to the rebuke. McCrae's instinct to first say "thank God for the house, the car, the family, the increase" before issuing the caution is exactly right. It communicates that he is not against the congregation's blessing — he is for their continued dependence on the One who blessed them. This is the difference between a preacher who scolds and a pastor who shepherds.

Why congregants will share it: This line functions like a proverb. It is short, paradoxical, and immediately applicable to real life. Congregants will repeat it in prayer, in conversation, and in moments of personal reflection when they catch themselves taking God's provision for granted.

Golden Moment #4: The Third Floor Praise

"A third level praise — they don't care about who they sitting next to up there. They don't know them people. They not worried if they can see everything. They can't. They not worried about the perfect seat. They are just happy to be in the room. A third floor praise says, 'I got dressed, the babies got dressed, it's a little food in there, we got a little gas in there. Grab your brother. Grab your sister. Let's go. I'm just glad I'm in here.' They don't care what they got on. They don't care who they sitting beside. They don't care if you know their name. But I can tell you what they do know — that God has been too good for them to act like he hasn't done anything."

Why this moment works: This is the sermon's most joyful moment, and McCrae earns every decibel of the congregation's response. He has taken the earlier architectural illustration and developed it into a fully realized portrait of authentic worship. The specificity of "a little food in there, a little gas in there" is what separates this from generic inspiration — it puts real people in real circumstances into the image.

Rhetorically effective: The "third floor praise" becomes a repeatable metaphor that the congregation can carry out of the building and apply to their own lives. McCrae has essentially coined a term in this moment — a shorthand for unself-conscious, gratitude-driven worship that doesn't require perfect conditions. This is the kind of illustrative preaching that functions as a gift to the congregation long after the sermon ends.

Why congregants will share it: This moment generated audible, sustained response because it gave people permission to praise without pretense. People will use the phrase "third floor praise" in their own conversations about worship for years. It is the kind of congregational gift that becomes part of a church's shared vocabulary.

Golden Moment #5: Remembrance Produces Worship

"If you forgot what God brought you through, you'll eventually forget to praise him for bringing you through it. And that's why David said, 'If it had not been for the Lord' — he's forcing himself to remember. And maybe that's what we ought to do this morning. Before we ask God for another blessing, let's thank God for the last one. Before we complain about what's missing, let's thank God for what remains. Before we worry about what's next, let's thank God for what he's already done. Because some of us may not be where we want to be, but thank God we're not where we used to be. So if you don't have a praise for every little thing, get you a praise because God brought you through some things."

Why this moment works: This is the sermon's exegetical and applicational center, and McCrae lands it cleanly. The movement from David's Psalm to the congregation's present moment is direct and unforced. The threefold parallel construction — "before we ask... before we complain... before we worry" — gives the application a memorable rhythm that functions almost like a liturgical call to gratitude.

Theologically sound: McCrae correctly identifies that biblical praise is not primarily emotional but memorial — it is rooted in recalling what God has done. This is the theology of the Psalms, the Passover, and the Lord's Supper all at once. When he says "remembrance produces worship," he is articulating one of the most important and underpreached truths in Christian spirituality: that gratitude is not a feeling to be manufactured but a discipline of memory.

Why congregants will share it: "Before we ask God for another blessing, let's thank God for the last one" is a sentence that will be quoted in prayer meetings, written in journals, and posted on social media. It reframes the entire posture of petition and turns it into an act of reverent remembrance.

Golden Moment #6: Worship Is What Happens When Your Life Belongs to God

"Romans 12 says, 'Present your bodies, a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.' In other words, worship isn't about what happens when the music starts. Worship is what happens when your life belongs to God. That's why I can worship in the sanctuary and worship in my kitchen. That's why I can worship in the quiet and worship in my car. That's why I can worship when the music is playing and I can worship when my house is completely quiet. Because worship isn't just a sound. Worship is remembrance. It's surrender. So maybe God isn't asking us to get louder. Maybe he's asking us to go deeper."

Why this moment works: This is the theological payoff of the entire sermon, and McCrae delivers it with clarity and conviction. He has spent the whole message diagnosing the gap between doing church and having church, and here he defines — with biblical precision — what true worship actually is. The repetition of "worship is what happens when your life belongs to God" functions as both anchor and invitation.

Theologically sound: The move to Romans 12:1 is exactly right. McCrae correctly grounds worship not in musical style or emotional intensity but in total life surrender — which is precisely what Paul means by "reasonable service" (or "true and proper worship" in the NIV). The summary line "worship isn't just a sound — worship is remembrance. It's surrender" is a definition worth writing down and returning to. It is both pastorally accessible and theologically serious.

Why congregants will share it: "Maybe God isn't asking us to get louder. Maybe he's asking us to go deeper." That line will outlive this sermon. It speaks directly to a generation navigating the tension between expressive worship culture and genuine spiritual formation. It is the kind of sentence that gets shared because it names something people have sensed but couldn't say.

A Final Word to the Pastor

Pastor McCrae, the greatest overall strength of this sermon is your ability to hold conviction and compassion in the same hand. You preached a sermon that could have easily become a scolding — you've gotten comfortable, your praise has changed, you've forgotten God — but it never once felt like an attack. Every moment of challenge was cushioned by genuine pastoral warmth, and that is not a small thing. That is a rare thing.

The thread that ties all six of these golden moments together is the theology of memory. From the sanctuary's architecture to David's Psalms to the old saints in the prayer meeting, you returned again and again to the same conviction: that authentic worship is not manufactured in the moment but drawn from a well of remembrance. That is a coherent, biblically grounded, and desperately needed message — and you preached it with consistency and clarity across the entire arc of the sermon.

The specific instinct you should continue leaning into is your gift for contextual illustration — using what is immediately present (the room, the seats, the third level) to illuminate what is spiritually invisible. You don't reach for distant or borrowed illustrations when the room itself will preach. That is a preacher's instinct, not a technique you learned from a book. Trust it. Develop it. It is one of your most distinctive gifts.

You gave that congregation something they will carry into the week: a phrase ("third floor praise"), a definition ("worship is what happens when your life belongs to God"), and a question ("don't let what God gave you forget who gave it to you"). That is a sermon that does its work long after Sunday. Keep preaching.