Troublingly Distant

I enjoyed a conversation with a church planter recently.  He made a comment that I’m hearing more and more.  There is a trend, not new, but seemingly on an upswing, toward distant preaching.  That is, preaching that is safely removed from any hint of emotional appeal or accusations of manipulation.  It is a manner that reveres the intellectual, but makes little or no attempt to touch the heart.  It is cold, distant, removed, disaffected.

Somehow proponents seem to think that this kind of preaching leaves room for the Holy Spirit to work out the impact in listeners’ lives.  It protects the speaker from accusation of manipulation.  It keeps the main thing the main thing and allows the truth to stand unsullied by any emotional appeal.

On the other hand, perhaps it abdicates the preacher’s responsibility to fully engage either the text or the listener.  Perhaps it provides for a prideful presentation of knowledge.  Perhaps it protects the preacher from any responsibility when listeners do not respond, since that, of course, is the Spirit’s concern, not theirs.

I find it concerning that this kind of preaching is coming up more and more in conversation.  It is a sort of expository preaching corrupted.  Expository preaching is not simply about presenting the truth.  It is about presenting the truth of the Scripture in an effective communication manner that emphasizes the relevance to the contemporary situation of listener and seeks response.  Every element of the preaching preparation and presentation should lean fully into God’s work by His Spirit, but that offers no excuse for abdication on the part of the preacher.

Am I faithfully representing the text when I neuter it and remove all affective appeal?  Am I really showing pastoral care for the flock when I turn the multi-dimensional appeal of Scripture into an intellectual exercise?  Am I really honouring God when I act as if I, as His representative, am doing my job by simply informing?  Am I really avoiding manipulation when I give the impression that Christianity is primarily about the commodity of knowledge and I am the dispenser of it?

There’s more to say, but I don’t want to lose the focus on that last sentence . . .

Hope

Today I posted over on the Cor Deo site, so I won’t write here.  However, what I wrote has a bearing on our perspective as preachers.  I would really appreciate it if you took a look at the post and perhaps offered a comment or two.  Thank you.  Please click here to go to today’s post…

Measurable

If we preach with a clear and specific goal for each sermon, then the issue of measurability comes onto the agenda.  That is, can we measure the effectiveness of the sermon?

On one side of the discussion are those thoughts that say we should “put our big boy pants on” (phrase heard in a podcast from the US yesterday . . . so if you’re English, think trousers), we should be big enough to face up to the reality of our effectiveness.  How many of us resist any notion of measuring effectiveness with spiritual sounding arguments when really the issue is our fear that we are simply not hitting the mark?

On the other side of this discussion is the legitimate spiritual thought that actually preaching is not a sales exercise that can be measured with surveys and numbers, but is our participation in the work of the Spirit and we have to live with the ambiguity of not knowing whether our ministry is in vain or not as far as individuals are concerned.

I had a brief discussion with a chap at a preaching seminar on Sunday who was saying how “productivity indicators” have impaired, hampered and downright killed productivity in industry on so many occasions.  While I don’t have his experience of industry, I do have some thoughts on preaching ministry.  Some applications are inclined toward measurability.  These would be the conduct applications – it may be possible and enlightening to discover if people have done what you suggested.  But other applications are harder to measure.  How can we find out whether our message has influenced the beliefs and thought patterns of our listeners?  How can we find out whether our message has marked the affections and values of our listeners?

Perhaps for most of us who don’t have the staff or structures in place to do any real measuring, perhaps we would just do well to remember that God knows the effectiveness of each message and so preach as if every sermon’s effect is logged in heaven.  Maybe that would spur us on to actually preach for response, rather than hiding behind the fact that any ineptitude won’t be revealed by a survey.

And maybe it is helpful to bring into play another helpful analogy.  I can’t measure the increase in health after each meal we feed our children.  Did those vegetables make a difference?  What about that bit of coconut oil?  And that salad?  Can’t be measured after each meal.  But we know it will make a difference long-term.  Isn’t that true of biblical preaching?  Over the passing of years, surely a healthy diet will make a significant difference.  Now let’s preach as if our effectiveness can be measured each week, but trust that it will take hold over the long haul!

Where is the Virtue in Disconnecting?

Two conversations in two days.  I hope these do not indicate an increasing trend.  These were conversations about preachers that seem to be deliberately moving away from ministry that connects with people.  The first is one who seems to place a value on some sort of higher churchy intonation and vocabulary, sort of a holy style that is farther away from reality than even reality TV (but in an opposite direction).  The second is one who had an innovative and connecting evangelistic ministry, but has apparently chosen to become dull and drab, perhaps in an attempt to come across as more intellectual, or perhaps satisfying to the tighter element in the church.  Actually, speculation on their motivation is only speculation.

But let me speculate some more anyway . . . perhaps the desire is to please the Lord by offering evidence in preaching style of a set apart-ness in life and ministry.  Certainly it is a good motivation to agree with the Lord that sin is repulsive and that we should live lives marked by being set apart from sin.  But I’m not satisfied even as I write that.  After all, do we agree with the Lord when we differ so radically from his example?  He was sinless, yes.  But he was also relevant, connected, a friend of sinners.  The deliberately different religious elite were hardly at the top of his affirmation list.  We are set apart from, and we are set apart to.  To what?  Not to being so other-worldly that we fail to engage with this one.  We are still here for a purpose.  We are sanctified as his representatives in a broken and sin-stained world.

Ok, let’s try speculating some more.  Perhaps some choose to deliberately disconnect in delivery in order to not undermine content by means of rhetorical manipulation and facile entertainment.  Ok, that’s a good point.  But I’m not convinced.  Was Paul really arguing against speaking in the most effective way possible, or was he arguing against the manipulation and trickery of the contemporary public speaker entertainers of his day?  He certainly used a lot of rhetorical “devices” in his writing.  Actually, to deliberately disconnect in order to draw attention to quality of content would be like making the body of a car as non-aerodynamic and heavy as possible in order to draw attention to the power of an engine.  Surely we are stewards of the whole communication process, so that we work in partnership with the Holy Spirit in respect to content, communication and application.  Negating one doesn’t emphasise the other, it merely undermines the whole.

I could speculate more, but I won’t.  I’m sure the people in question have good motives.  But my concern is that we don’t fall into thinking there is virtue in deliberate disconnection when it comes to preaching the Word to this fallen world.

Help People Deal With Complexity

I’ve been struck again and again how people are so much more comfortable with black and white categories.  If something is a sin, then it is easier to dismiss it (and any entangled in it) completely than engage with those people for their restoration and help.  It is easier to take a “weak” position on everything morally neutral than be strong enough to face the complexities of life.  It is easier to hang on to an unchanging past than it is to face the uncertainties of a possibly changing future.  Yet as preachers we need to face up to our opportunity to train people for life.

Generally it is our task to take the complex and make it understandable.  Clarity over confusion any day.  But we don’t want to give people the impression that life can be lived in absolute black and white simplistic categories in respect to every issue.  That would be to misapply a passion for clarity.  Life is complex.  People are complex.  Situations that we face are complex.

As preachers we need to give people permission to not have a crystal clear position on everything (sometimes we, as believers, are still trying to work out what will please the Lord in certain situations).

We also need to give people the tools to be able to face the complexities and think through them biblically, with compassion for others, with humility, etc.

We need to be wary of stirring up inappropriate “convictions” in people that haven’t had their positions tested and proven.  I always remember one of my teachers at seminary reminding us that we can’t call an untested position a conviction.  He urged us not to be so dogmatic about things we are still learning about.  I think he was right.  People with vocal “convictions” are not the same thing as people with genuinely proven convictions and maturity.

How does our preaching equip people for real life?  How does it aid people in their path to maturity?

Life is not always crystal clear and binary (either 1 or 0).  A lot of life is lived in between the two extremes.

Passionate About Good Preaching

I hear a lot of things about preaching. Not all of them are positive. People can’t concentrate as long as they used to. People don’t like long sermons. The church needs to move to “talks” in order to be contemporary and relevant. The religious monological tirade is a thing of the past. And on it goes.

It’s almost amusing how people so quickly default to shrinking and changing the sermon when things aren’t going so well. But if you have the privilege of seeing more than one local church context you will quickly realise that the “diet sermonette” approach is not the only option. Why is it that so many of the thriving churches have 40-minute sermons, or even longer in some cases? Why is it that some churches that make preaching a central feature of church life are packed to the rafters with the generation that can no longer concentrate or tolerate sermons?

I think that throwing out the sermon because it isn’t working in a particular context is short-sighted. It’s like saying my ten year old car is struggling to make the 50 mile commute to work every day, so I’ll replace it with a skateboard. Skateboards are more contemporary, and big old fume generating machines are so old fashioned. I’m not making an ecological statement here, but some forms of transport aren’t up to the burden placed on them. The old car and the new skateboard are not up to the task. So the solution is probably going to be a better car. Old monologues that feel like tirades and pithy little “talks” are not up to the task when it comes to all the weight placed on preached. The solution is not something new, it’s something renewed. If the preaching isn’t good enough, improve the preaching, don’t just terminate the sermon slot.

I’m passionate about good preaching, and saddened by the short-sightedness of so many that feel preaching should be disposed of, even in the absence of a suitable alternative. I’ve said it before, and will say it again. This generation is hungry for good preaching. That is, preaching that effectively and accurately and provocatively and relevantly and engagingly and vulnerably and spiritually conveys the teaching of God’s Word. Remember, we are talking about Biblical Preaching . . . so the material we’re using is the very best there is, it is God’s Word. Now the burden is on us to somehow do justice to God’s Word in how we preach it!

Supplements and Substitutes

Back to the diet theme (perhaps I am actually hungry as I type this post!) Last week I referred to vegetables and chocolate.  While in Sri Lanka I scanned my way through an enjoyable book entitled Preach It! by Stuart Briscoe.  In it (page 18), he makes the following point:

“Alternative methods of communicating and participating, which may be perfectly valid and helpful as supplements to preaching, have been installed as substitutes for preaching.  That makes no more sense than exchanging a bottle of dietary supplements for a healthy diet of solid food.”

I have to say that I stand firmly with Stuart on this issue.  There are many supplemental approaches to feed the church with Scripture, and I am a fan of most.  Home group and small group Bible studies can be very helpful.  Seminars and classes can provide valuable input.  Reading programs, personal devotional notes, pastor’s blogs, etc.  All helpful supplements.

But these are not substitutes for preaching.  The healthy church needs a steady diet of well prepared Biblical content delivered by an appropriate form of biblical preaching.  The Christian faith is a faith based on revelation, it is a faith with preaching at its centre.

You may be growing tired at the lack of response to your preaching.  You may be discouraged by the sense that preaching doesn’t do what you pray it will in peoples’ lives.  Don’t give up on preaching.  By all means look to improve it, get training, read helpful material, listen to good role models, but don’t give up on it.  Whether it is obvious or not, your church needs solid and relevant biblical preaching if it is to be healthy.  You don’t see your children grow with every meal, but you will see the difference if you give up on meals altogether!

Superior Ammunition. Really?

In class last week we were discussing effective sermon delivery.  We brainstormed through the categories of verbal, vocal and visual presentation.  So what goes into effective verbal delivery – i.e. the words you choose to use?

One person mentioned the need for accurate and precise word choice, rather than lots of filler words and verbal pauses.  Absolutely.  If you spoke on behalf of the government you wouldn’t arrive with a, umm, you know, imprecise kind of, you know, message.  How much more when you speak as an ambassador of heaven?

Another mentioned the need for common language.  After all, despite what some may think, Jesus spoke in common language.  The New Testament was written in common Greek.  We need to communicate with the people who are listening to us.

Related to this is the importance of your motivation in word choice.  One brother mentioned the temptation to try to look well educated by choosing erudite terminology.  I stumbled across a great quote in Briscoe’s book, something like, “if you are consistently shooting over the target, this is not an indication of your superior ammunition, but proof that you can’t aim properly.”  Fantastic.

Preach the Main Point

Last week I had the joy of teaching a group of church leaders in a class on preaching biblical narratives.  Once we had grasped the significance and power of plot in a narrative, we realized how purposeful narratives tend to be.  They aren’t a random assortment of preaching fodder as many see them.

It is easy to read a story and bounce off the details to preach personal hobby horses.

A passing reference to alcohol in the story of Nabal can easily become a tirade against alcohol in the hands of a careless preacher.  But that is not the focal point of the story.  The plot, when understood properly, pushes the careful preacher toward the heart of the issue (usually in some way related to the resolution of the tension in the plot).

And yet the beauty of narrative passages is that they don’t simply present simple truths, but clothe theological truth in the concrete realities of life.  While many Christians may choose to make every conceivable matter into a black and white simplistic issue, biblical narratives engage us in the complexities of real life.  Daniel didn’t eat the meat offered to idols.  Aha! There it is, biblical support for total separation from anything I deem to be worldly!  Hang on, in the same passage he isn’t fussing about being labeled with a Babylon deity’s name.  Complex.

Narratives are such powerful parts of Scripture.  They present, engage and drive home a central truth in very vivid and heart-stirring ways.  Yet they don’t lay comfortably in our simplistic constructs for life, choosing rather to stretch our faith and our thinking by their complex depictions of human motivation, faith, and experience.

Of Vegetables and Chocolate

Some preachers complain about the fluffy content-free preaching that seems to be popular in some quarters.  But to listen to their complaints you might think the only alternative is the dry and tedious preaching they seem to offer.  I suppose this is like complaining about the nutritionally bankrupt junk food that hoards of people snack on every day, but then insisting that these hoards should instead be eating the overcooked, under-salted boiled cabbage and greyed carrots that they are offering in their pulpit cuisine.

There is another option.

Even if you have a bit of a taste for chocolate (something I can relate to), and even if you don’t generally prefer vegetables (another point with which I connect), there is another possibility.

Instead of the supposedly healthy vegetable meals offered by bad cooks who have committed a war crime against any lingering nutritional value in their over zealous pots, consider the finest cooked meals of five-star chefs in the best restaurants.  When you get to taste good food cooked properly, it is a delight.  Even a chocolate loving, vegetable phobic person like me will freely admit how much more satisfying healthy food is when it is prepared properly.

So back to preaching.  If people are flocking to hear empty waffling, but not staying to enjoy our preaching, let’s not feel totally stuck.  We don’t have to sell out and start serving junk food.  Neither do we need to become embittered against all the popular preachers.  Instead listen to some of the best preachers and develop a taste for fine cuisine preaching . . . some preachers are actually popular, not because they serve junk food, but because they serve fine food superbly prepared.  Perhaps we might get a taste for it.  We might even choose to serve it to others.