Today I have posted on the Cor Deo site, so will link to it from here. What happens when we get the Great Commandment out of order? What does it mean to love the Lord? Please click here to read today’s post.
Author: Peter Mead
Preaching and Story – Part 5
So this post is really an extension of implication four in the series we have been considering on the impact of narrative in our preaching. Much more could be said, but this will be the last in this specific series. So to review implication number four:
4. When preaching “non-narrative” sections, consider how they are snapshots of a narrative. We saw how two genres are, by definition, largely narratival – both history and gospel (including parables, of course). But what about the five “non-narrative” genres?
So a psalm was written by someone in response to God’s work, or in gratitude for a particular moment of deliverance, or in the tension of particular situation, either individual or corporate, or to guide others in the tensions of life.
Prophecy, as we know, is not all about foretelling the future, but often more about God’s heart being revealed in respect to the present. Either way, narrative is there . . . either God’s response to the tensions and problems and reactions and dangers of the present, or God’s explanation of kingdom hope shining at the end of the current tunnel.
Wisdom literature is shot through with the tensions of a fallen world, with the challenges of human folly as we so easily pick foolish paths in the midst of the situations we face – glimpses into the story of humanity.
Apocalyptic, despite all the caveats and careful explanations that seem to overwhelm the text so often these days, is a revelation of reality, present or future, the unseen becoming seen, and it is shot through with narrative features – and then I saw, then he said, and then, and then, so the dragon waited, then the world celebrated, then the judge came, and then, and then.
Epistle, of course, is a snapshot into a narrative – that apostle’s attempt to bring the gospel to bear on the present situation of the recipients. We have to look at the occasion that prompted the writing of the letter, and we need to look for any hints as to what transpired in response to it. A glimpse into the narratives of life lived in a fallen world.
At some level there are aspects of narrative pervading every passage in the Bible. How does our preaching reflect that?
Preaching and Story – Part 4
So we have been thinking this week about the role of the Bible story in our preaching. We haven’t thought about how the individual stories relate to the big story as a whole, the redemption history, as it were. Perhaps that would be worth a post at some point (actually I know it would because some preachers seem so eager to fit everything in its macro context that the particular text they claim to be preaching gets lost or somehow reworked so that the actual message of the text is lost in the mix . . . but that is for another day). We have considered the importance of entering into the narrative, and trusting the narrative to offer more than illustration and introduction, and thinking through how to increase the impact of a narrative by retelling and revisiting it before moving on. Now to the final implication in this series. This weekend I should be returning from Asia and will be looking forward to seeing what comments have been sparked by this series!
4. When preaching “non-narrative” sections, consider how they are snapshots of a narrative. There are three main types of literature in the Bible, and about seven major genre. One of the three types is narrative, the most common one, but still leaving two non-narrative types (poetry and discourse). A couple of the genre are narrative (history and gospel, including parables), again with lots of page space, but also leaving five that are non-narrative (psalm, prophecy, wisdom, apocalyptic, epistle.) But stop the bus for a minute! Are these other types and genres non-narratival? Aren’t poetry and discourse both snapshots into a narrative? Discourse, be it epistle or speech, is given in the context of a narrative situation. And it may be harder to accurately know the context that gave rise to a particular poem, but human nature leads us to wonder and often to reconstruct such a narrative (be careful not to then interpret a poem in light of a reconstructed narratival context, but why not tap into the emotional setting of a fallen world that sparks such poetry?)
I will extend this series by one post and tomorrow consider the five supposedly non-narratival genres to see how they are, in fact, more narrative-ish than we tend to think!
Preaching and Story – Part 3
So we have suggested that since narrative is such a critical form of literature in Scripture, pervading both Testaments at length, and since we live life in the tension / resolution cycle of micro and macro narratives, therefore we need to ponder how narrative influences our preaching. We have suggested the importance of telling the story, and of trusting the story instead of looking to always get past it to the important stuff. Now for another implication:
3. Don’t just tell the story and move on, but revisit, review, retell, re-engage the narrative. Sometimes we are just too quick to move on. We tell the story without effective description, emotion, clarification, cultural awareness, etc. Then we move on to our lengthy content. A well told story will include effective description, cultural explanations, empathetic energy, physical movement, etc. And it also needs the often missing ingredient of time. Time to dwell in the tension. Time to ponder the problem. Time to feel the resolution. Time to respond to the work of God in that story, and if told well, in my story. So why not follow up the story with a partial re-telling and review as you conclude the message and apply the truths? Why not revisit the narrative for a subsequent sermon instead of moving rapidly on at “break-impact” speed (i.e. fast enough to avoid any passage really hitting home!) Or to be creative, why not have a session where listeners can actively participate in reflecting on the story, or retelling the story, or talking through the impact of the story?
Perhaps you can think of other ways to linger longer in a story preached, so that the church can be changed more completely by it? Tomorrow we will see the final implication in this series.
Preaching and Story – Part 2
Yesterday we suggested that preaching on a Bible narrative should include more than just elements based on the story, but should actually tell the story. Here’s another implication of the pervasive nature of narrative:
2. Don’t just enter the narrative as a means to an end, but see the entering in as a potential location of the “end.” That seems like a risky sentence, but I think it holds firm. Too easily we feel that a story is, at best, an introduction to our pontifications, applications and morals. But a well timed, well placed, well told story will often carry its own weight and do its own work. The listeners will enter into it, they will find themselves in the world of the story, and they will feel the story in their world. As they identify with the characters and feel the rising tension, as they see the tension resolved, as they feel the blessing of “their” character trusting God, or sense the emptiness of a character choosing the pain of sin, and so on, they will be impacted by the story, during the story. God invented narrative, trusts narrative and so gave us loads of it in Scripture, knowing people would hear it and read it, and knowing that there wouldn’t always be the helpful explanation we sometimes feel God “needs” from people like us. God knew what he was doing with the inspiration of narrative, perhaps our seeing story as effective communication in itself might be an act of faith that could bear fruit? I am not anti-explanation or suggesting that storytelling replace preaching. I am suggesting that in our preaching we don’t simply see narratives as illustration, or introductions to the “real stuff.”
It’s tempting to move on to the next implication, but perhaps it would be better to let this post linger longer. Number three tomorrow.
Preaching and Story – Part 1
This week I am in Asia, teaching an MDiv course on Preaching Biblical Narrative. I’d value your prayers for the course, the students, the travel and the family back home. On here I thought I would preload a series of posts reflecting on the place of biblical narrative in our preaching. I hope it will spark comments, but I don’t know if I’ll have internet access to approve the comments, so apologies if yours doesn’t appear for a few days.
Life is lived in story. We don’t just tell stories, and read them, and watch them, and share them on the phone, and observe them through our front windows, and hear about them in the workplace . . . we live them. When we watch a movie, or read a book, we find ourselves feeling the tensions and identifying with characters, or pulling away from them. Somehow we wonder what we would do, we share their joys, feel their pain, enter their world. Why? Because story is the water we swim in, so it is only natural that we connect.
So what? Well, here are some possible implications in respect to preaching:
1. When preaching a narrative, don’t just preach propositions, but enter into the narrative. I well remember an introduction to a sermon I heard a while back, “I know you know the story, so I won’t tell it again now, let’s look at the theology of the story.” No! It’s fair to say that only those already on board with that speaker’s theological take on things were positive about that message. A narrative has to have a tension, a problem, a situation that needs to be resolved. Enter into that, describe it, help the listeners to feel it. A narrative has key characters, humans in a fallen world beset by tensions, people that the listeners will warm to, pull back from, feel for, or feel like. Enter into that, describe them and their situation, help the listeners to feel it. Don’t be so sophisticated that you leave the stories for the children. When you preach story, tell the story.
Tomorrow we will look at another implication or two (there are four implications in this series).
Back to the Note Takers
On Friday I wrote about note takers and made a passing comment about the idea of people returning to their notes and reviewing. I think it is only fair to suggest that many never achieve that goal, even if they have it. But even if they do, it raises an issue.
Is my goal to make my listeners need my outline in order to navigate their way through a passage? Certainly this is better than being lost in a passage. But personally I would rather preach so as to motivate people to go back to the passage, not my outline. Furthermore, I would rather preach to equip people to get the main thrust of the passage and know how to apply the text and respond to the God who inspired the text.
So if my goal is about the connection between the text, and my main idea, and the relevance to their lives . . . why would I prioritize their getting back to my outline? Hooks to hang thoughts on is a well-worn phrase. But I have neither hooks nor my outline in my goal when preaching. Perhaps I should consider encouraging them to listen fully, then make brief notes after the fact, notes pointing to the main message and its impact in their lives. Perhaps I should encourage them to go back to the text and look through it for themselves . . . that would be almost Berean, wouldn’t it?
(May I finish with a parenthetical comment? Listeners, like preachers, might easily suggest that they know themselves and they know they do best taking notes during the message. Maybe they are right. Or maybe they are influenced by the common perception propounded in educational culture that note takers are the most attentive and best learners. Would people be so convinced this works best for them if it weren’t the generally presumed “best way” . . . I do wonder!)
Preaching and Note Takers
I had an enjoyable conversation with a friend today about note takers in church. Some preachers love it when listeners are taking notes. After all, it means they are listening, learning and will be going over the message again later. But actually it doesn’t. They are half-listening, may be learning, may or may not go over it again later.
I’ve read research that suggests the best way for listeners to learn from a message is to listen attentively, and then have time immediately afterwards to make some retrospective notes. That allows them to give full attention to the message, rather than trying to recall and write while you are preaching. It also allows them to immediately distill main point and applications of the message, rather than fooling themselves into thinking an outline equates to learning or life change.
Attention given to one thing means less attention given to something else. If people are writing, then their minds are distracted from what is being said at that moment.
I like students to be taking notes in a class setting. Firstly, because the sheer volume of information is greater than a single sermon that supposedly has a focused main point. Secondly, because the goal is much more centrally about information transfer. Preaching should educate, but the main goal of preaching is not education.
If you are in the habit of giving “fill in the blank” notes, I am sure you will want to defend that approach, and you are welcome to do so. I like what I heard Tim Keller say a while back – “it’s when they put their pens down that I know I am really getting through.” Why don’t we try giving a 3-5 minute quiet time after a message and encourage either prayer or note taking in that time? I’d love to hear from any who have done that in a church service setting.
Enough from me, what are your thoughts on note takers?
Revisiting Relevance
Yesterday I scratched the surface of Relevance Theory in respect to preaching. Let’s look at it a bit more (accepting that there is so much that could be written if we were to really do justice to the theory, as well as to preaching).
To reject the need for relevance is naïve. Actually, those who reject the need for relevance and simply preach the Word in a more scholarly and abstract way are still relevant to their listeners. The problem is that the relevance is much weaker. For example, people listen because they have a perceived need to hear a sermon in church, or a fleshly sense of the need to be pressured religiously (or even, that enduring under the sound of biblical teaching is somehow healthy in and of itself, like uncomfortable spiritual callisthenics).
The solution to a self-centred pragmatic applicationalism is not to resist relevance and application. Rather it is to see two stages to the solution, rather than one. At one level listeners are distracted and discouraged and perhaps even self-concerned. Offering relevance in a message so that they listen and engage is simply wisdom in action. As I start a message I can assume that the listeners are distracted and not fully engaged. As I demonstrate the relevance of the speaker, the message and the text, early on in the message, I am motivating listening. As I surface a need from the text that stirs interest in the listener, I am motivating engagement. But my message won’t simply meet a felt need. Rather, that is the entrance, the first level of relevance.
But there is a second level. It is that level that moves the focus of relevance and benefit from ourselves to the Lord. As we are caught up in the gospel we are drawn out of our selves to Him, the gospel captivates our self-centred hearts and stirs us to respond to the greater affection of God’s grace. As we are caught up in His grace, then effort can be asked without any sense of a burden of duty, and relevance/benefit becomes His rather than ours. Our delight is to please Him.
If this is true, then to relegate all application to the final three minutes of the message is foolhardy. With this approach people will listen poorly, and then be left with only the first level, rather than the delightful privilege of entering into the second, others-centred level of applicational relevance.
Theorising Relevance
The field of communications theory is vast and sometimes intriguing. Take, for instance, relevance theory. Relevance theory, in basic terms, argues that perceived relevance over effort required equals response of audience. To put it another way, listeners will respond more when they perceive the message to be more relevant to them, and less effort.
So in non-preaching terms, if someone receives a good benefit (reduced risk of cancer), for less effort (just a low-cost drink once per day), they are more likely to respond positively (i.e. make a purchase). In contrast less benefit (marginal increase in strength), for more effort (two hours in a gym every day), they are less likely to respond positively (i.e. they won’t join the gym based on this message). Fairly basic, fairly obvious.
So how does relevance theory apply to preaching, if at all? After all, preaching is communication with an inherent element of persuasion:
Some preachers seem to go whole hog on this theory. That is, they make every message as relevant and practical and felt needs focused as possible, while at the same time minimizing biblical or theological content, or life demands, as far as possible. Such messages tend to be easy to listen to, easy to apply, easy to take notes, easy.
Others resist such an application of the theory by suggesting that the gospel makes demands on listeners and this should not be simplified to the temporal things of this life. The road is narrow, after all. So preaching tends to be more scholarly, application tends to be more abstract, and response tends to be more variable (but perhaps deeper in the lives of the committed).
I am not convinced either approach is right. The former one seems to come close to catering to the self-concerned lifestyles of the spiritually immature who think Christianity is primarily about their own benefits. The latter seems to tend toward legalistic righteousness that coerces by duty (but perhaps offering an equally temporal benefit of spiritual pride).
At one level, I believe we cannot ignore relevance theory, simply because it is an observed reality of human response. But on the other hand, I feel the need to shift from a sales or persuasion metaphor to that of relationship. When my heart is captivated by my wife, then no effort is too great, even just for the “small perceived benefit” of her smile (since the benefit that motivates my sacrifice is really hers and not mine). Somehow it seems to me that our task is not to make things easy, or to pile on the pressure, but to present the grace of God so that hearts are stirred to respond fully . . . for His benefit.
Perhaps we need to think not only of the relevance for us (which is important if people are to listen), but go beyond that to the relevance of our application for our Lord (since it is the benefit that accrues to the other that stirs the heart and life of a lover, which is what we are, right?)
