Author: Peter Mead

Preaching and Training

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

I am a huge advocate for biblical preaching.  But I don’t think preaching covers all the bases as far as training and equipping is concerned.  It would be naive to think that a sermon or two every week for decades will equip a church

As leaders of churches we need to think carefully about the place of small groups, of seminars, of training sessions, of mentoring . . . and somehow figure out how to do that without overcrowding the weekly schedule.

Think too of subjects that probably won’t, or won’t easily get addressed, in normal preaching.  How does the big story of the Bible fit together?  What are the various temperaments with which God has wired us?  And spiritual gifts – how do we discover and use and fan into flame?  And what about practical instruction in addressing interpersonal tensions?  And how do you mentor a leader, a preacher, a husband, a dad . . . with just preaching?

Preaching is critical, but it’s not everything.  How are you equipping people in the local church to multiply the ministry?

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Points of Pride

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

I suspect that if we’re honest, we’d all admit that preaching leads to numerous battles with pride.  Perhaps not every time, perhaps not in the same way as each other, but there is an inherent danger that points of pride will peek through when we preach.  Much of this may be an internal battle unseen by others except the Lord.  But sometimes in our preaching we do things that can reveal, or be perceived to be, pride peeking through.  A few examples:

1. References to “scholastic matters” – You know what I mean, the extra reference to a dispute among commentators, an unnecessary quotation from the Greek/Hebrew, a technical term (punctiliar aorist, genitive absolute, etc.), an unnecessary excursus into matters of textual criticism, unnecessary citation details showing how much you’ve read, etc.

2. Allusions to “hidden stores of knowledge” – This is more subtle, but some of us fall into it.  It’s where you open the door to a subject, only to immediately close it with some passing reference to “that is for another time” or “so much we could say about that…”  Sometimes it helps to let people know you’re aware that more could be said about a matter, but sometimes it can come across as prideful parading of unrevealed knowledge.

3. Demonstrations of “foreign language competence” – I remember reading a theology book and getting very annoyed by the author quoting in Dutch and Norwegian (as well as Latin, French, German, Spanish, etc.), all without English translation.  Ostentatious to say the least.  But actually in our preaching it can be tempting to throw in a foreign phrase or quote.  Depending on the audience this may connect very effectively, or it may just look prideful.

4. Narratives of “personal illustration” – Haddon Robinson always said that an illustration shouldn’t make you look like a jerk or a hero.  Tempting though.  A story in which you gave a stunning response in the moment, or where others acclaimed your skill, or yet another reference to your prize winning exploits in the county fair vegetable competition, or “when I met Billy Graham…”  Maybe it is a good illustration, maybe it does help the message, but think carefully how it comes across, because if it smacks of pride, it will leave a sour taste.

So I readily hold my hands up as guilty of all four charges.  Perhaps you do too.  Let’s think through the next message and try to eradicate any hint of pride so that nothing will detract from the God of whom we preach, who is worthy of all honour!

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Sad Separations

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

Here are three separations often occurring in pulpits that are sad, to say the least:

The separation of leadership and preaching – I’ve mentioned this before, probably after reading Michael Quicke’s 360-Degree Leadership.  In some churches, especially those that have to, or choose to, rely on visiting speakers, there is an unfortunate separation of preaching from leadership.  The result tends to be preaching that is informative, perhaps even impressive, but not truly pastoral.

The separation of theology and application – It’s sad to see a situation where the riches of theology have supposedly been plumbed, and yet there hasn’t been the appropriate and necessary emphasis on application.  Is theology truly preached if it is only offered as informational instruction rather than transformational preaching?

The separation of gospel and text – Perhaps somewhat different, it is sad to see that in some situations the gospel is preached, but without genuine reference to the text.  That is to say, the text is presented, but rather than preached, it offers a springboard to a generic gospel presentation.  Better the gospel than no gospel, but much better the gospel well rooted in God’s Word.

Any other sad pulpit separations you’ve noticed?

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Where Does Christ Fit?

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When you are preaching the Old Testament, there should always be a radar bleeping in your heart regarding where Christ fits into the message.  Some will suggest that every message must be entirely and purely about Christ, whatever the text was originally intended to convey.  I feel this approach can bring our view of the inspiration of Scripture into disrepute.

Not every Old Testament passage is just about Christ. I know that Jesus took two disciples on a tour of the Old Testament on the road to Emmaus, but I’d also like to point out that that road is only 7 miles long!  We need to recognize that many passages are about humanity responding to the God of the covenant, or about the power of the creator God, or about judgment, etc.  If it is a stretch to make the passage be about Jesus, don’t.  However,

The listeners are always listening to the sermon post-incarnation. Consequently there is a need to make sure we are engaging with the text in light of later revelation.  That doesn’t mean we have to reinterpret the original meaning to be something that it could not have been originally.  But we do have to land the bridge of the message in the contemporary circumstance of our listeners (including the fact that we are post-incarnation, post-cross, post-resurrection, post-Pentecost, etc.)

The Old Testament is, of course, heading toward Christ. It is Christo-telic.  That doesn’t mean it is Christo-exclusive.

May God grant us wisdom as we seek to honour His whole revelation in all its fullness, recognizing the progression of revelation, speaking with absolute relevance to contemporary listeners and always honouring and glorifying the Word incarnate!

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Full Sentence Points

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Why do I recommend preachers have full sentence points?  Or to put it another way – what is the problem with single-word points?

After all, a series of three or four single words can be memorable, both during the message and potentially after it.  So why not just give single word “points” as the message progresses?

A single-word may convey a title, but it cannot convey an idea. A single word will tell the listeners something about what is going to be said, but it is not able to convey the idea in a nutshell.  Why waste the opportunity to make a single sentence summary of the message content?

Single-word points tend to push the message toward information summary rather than transformational communication. Not always, but often, a single word will lean toward historical lecture material.  The old idea of masses of explanation before any application is problematic.  Why waste the opportunity to be relevant, targeted, personal at such a key moment in the message?  Putting the points in full sentences that relate to us today can be very powerful.  You can immediately go to the text and “back then” to see the support for the point, but you’re doing so with a sense of its relevance to us before you even get there.

Single-word points encourage a lack of cohesion within each point. If your “point” is a subject, then there is almost no end to what you could (and possibly will try to) say in this section of the message.  If your point is a distilled summary of the applicational point (or the message of the text at that section), then there is automatically a control mechanism to avoid scattered thoughts that don’t cohere.

Preaching is oral communication, which consists of transmitting ideas. When we talk in conversation we make points, assertions, suggestions, encouragements, etc. in full sentences.  We don’t naturally use single-word headings.  This is a written  communication approach.  Whatever notes you may or may not be looking at, when you preach you are speaking.  Why use literary approaches?  Forcing yourself to think yourself clear at the level of the points in your message, making sure you can convey the thought in a clear sentence will only help your message communicate more effectively.

Incidentally, if you are still craving the mnemonic assistance of single word tags, you could always add them (or some shorthand approach) in the transitions and final summary.  Having said that, remember that your goal is not for listeners to remember your outline, but to be transformed by the main idea of the text and its application to their lives.

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10 Ways to Make Your Listeners Uncomfortable – cont.

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Continuing ten ways to disturb the comfortable with your preaching:

6. Don’t make it clear when you are starting a rhetorical question. If the question slips in and people miss it, they then land in the pause as uncomfortable outsiders, unclear what it is they are supposed to be responding to.  Be sure to verbally, vocally, or even non-verbally, mark the start of a question intended to engage (even if rhetorical and they aren’t expected to answer out loud).

7. Give the impression that the answer to a rhetorical question is obvious, when it isn’t. Nothing like making people feel thick to add discomfort to their emotive experience inventory.

8. Give the impression that you need their facial response, but you’re not getting it. If you need it, look around and find someone whose face is encouraging (sometimes the grisly faces are grimacing in concentration – it’s the totally uninterested faces to be concerned about!)  If you request response too much and give the impression that you’re not getting it, then your listeners will grow uncomfortable trying to make you comfortable.  That’s not really their job.

9. Give a series of “it/this” statements without being clear what the “it/this” was. If they missed your original reference and then you string “it” sentences together, they’ll feel lost for long enough to grow uncomfortable.  “What difference would this make in our church?  What would it do in our nation?  What if your family put this into practice?  How might it change your life? Etc.”

10. Go for a big finish after a message that has barely got out of second gear. I was taught to make my introduction proportionate to the message – i.e. don’t overpromise and under-deliver.  The same is true of conclusions: don’t under-deliver then finish with an excessive bang.

There are other things, but I suppose I’d summarize some of this in this way.  Don’t be dependent on your listeners wanting you to succeed and being willing to go hunting for the message in what you are trying to say.  Instead prayerfully seek to be an arresting, engaging, confident, winsome, human and compelling communicator.  If you are uncomfortable, they will be doubly uncomfortable.  Once for themselves, and once for you.

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10 Ways to Make Your Listeners Uncomfortable

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Someone said preaching should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.  Here are ten ways to make your listeners feel uncomfortable as you preach, but not in the right sense of the term:

1. Give off non-verbal signals of nervousness. Wring your hands, pace uncontrollably, fidget as you preach, breath shallow, avoid eye contact, flit from one ceiling corner to another, etc.  If you convey nerves, they are contagious and soon the whole room will be infected.

2. Appear to be dependent on your notes. If they get the impression that you might lose your place, or somehow get stuck, then they will start watching in the “eyes up” time for when your eyes will go down again.  If you need notes for personal testimony, something isn’t working well.

3. Appear to be uncertain or hesitant. This doesn’t mean you need to rush or preach at 100mph.  But there is a vast difference between a purposeful pause with poise and a hesitant gap that generates anxiety in all present.

4. Apologise for lack of preparation and you are set. This never fails.  If you can give a good apology for your lack of preparation, or for your inability to communicate, or whatever, you’ll have almost guaranteed an uncomfortable experience for your listeners.

5. Expect people to tune in to ineffective description. Describing a narrative scene or an illustration situation is not easy.  A poor description will leave the imagination projection screen blank inside the listeners.  But that is not a disaster, they will usually be tracking conceptually, even if they can’t “see” what you’re saying.  But to make them uncomfortable, verbally express the expectation that they can imagine what you’re describing.  “Can you imagine being there?  What would it have felt like?”  If the description isn’t vivid, then the questions will pressure listeners into an uncomfortable corner.

I’ll finish the list tomorrow.

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Creative Series

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It’s easy to fall into a rut with planning a series.  Either a whole book, or a whole section, divided equally into chunks.  But there can be variety in a series.

How about a survey message to start and/or finish? Giving people a sense of the whole will help with the parts.

Why not linger longer in key sections? Most of us typically feel like we could go again with the content we omitted after a message.  Most listeners fail to really take onboard a message after one shot.  Why not linger longer in a key section for a couple or three messages?  I’m listening to a series with three messages from John 1:14-18, followed by a couple of messages that reach out into the rest of John.

Why not pause for fuller context? That is, sometimes a New Testament book will lean heavily on Old Testament content, why not take a message from back there?  For example, I can imagine a series through Hebrews that includes three messages on the key Old Testament passages – Psalm 2, Psalm 95, etc., followed by the Hebrews section that builds on them.

How about tasting the themes from other writers? In a series on a book or section of a book, why not take a message and see how other writers handle the same theme and how they nuance it?

How about a mid-series pause for applicational underlining? We tend to march on, passage on passage.  But why not pause mid-series to review and underline the applications that have become evident thus far?

Then there is the benefit of changing perspective too. Perhaps you’ve preached a book from Paul’s perspective, why not try a message engaging with the letter from the perspective of the recipients.  It could work with anything from Romans to Philemon.  Changing perspective can really underline the reality in which the text was written and its relevance for us today – it’s not just a timeless religious text, it’s a relevant application of the gospel to real people in real situations.

Plenty more that could spice up a series too . . . any thoughts?

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Illustrations and Interest

/ Peter Mead / 4 Comments

Illustrations are an interesting subject.  Actually, my concern is that often illustrations are seen as the source of interest in a message.  Therefore the best speakers, that is, the most interesting, are those who seem to be a repository of well-researched illustrations.  But here’s my concern – do we rely on illustrations to be interesting?

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that we are relying on illustrations to be interesting.  What does this imply?  Does it imply that really entering into the text as we preach is boring?  (That is to say, explaining, understanding, encountering, experiencing the text is actually boring?)  Or does it imply that actually we often aren’t really engaging and entering into a text at all?

In some preaching you do get the sense that the text serves as an introduction to the next illustration.  Personally, I don’t believe the text itself is boring and in need of our help to make it interesting.  I do believe that a lot of preaching somehow seeks to explain texts without really entering into them.  The text is offered at arms length as exhibit A, but is not a living and active revelation in which the preaching thereof engages the whole listener in an encounter with God.  (I’m not really arguing for some kind of neo-orthodox “text becoming word” concept here, but I am suggesting that the Bible is written with affective and emotive function in the different biblical genre that requires it to be somehow experienced and well-understood – as opposed to “mentally understood” from a safe distance leaving the heart largely untouched.)

So no illustrations then?  I’m not saying that.  If their main function is to offer interest, then I would suggest revisiting the text some more and discovering something more of its wonder as engaging inspired revelatory literature.  But what if the illustration serves to explain some aspect of the message, or help to validate or “prove” the truth of the text, or assist the listeners in imagining effective application of the text?  By all means, use explanations, or proofs (maybe a better term would be supports or validations), or applications.  Personally I prefer to call them what they are – explanations, or supports, or applications.  If I call them “illustrations” then I might be tempted to fall into the illustration equals interest trap.  For many, that is what illustrations are.  They don’t have to be.  May we convince people of the inherent interest value, and personal value, of the Word of God.  If we fail to do that, what is it we are doing again?

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When Expository Preaching Almost Isn’t

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

One approach to preaching a text is a particularly well worn path, but at times it verges on leaving the territory of the expository.  If done well it doesn’t leave the territory, but it sometimes gets close to the fence.  Let me see if I can help you see what I mean.

Imagine you have a preaching text, perhaps a section of, let’s say, ten verses.  A fairly common and standard approach is to come up with a series of points that cover those ten verses.  Perhaps you take a keyword approach – three reasons, four benefits, three challenges, etc.  By using these key words you are able to construct a series of points that are parallel and technically cover the entire text.  In the preaching of that text you will, by means of your three or four points, preach the whole passage.  You will probably have a liberal sprinkling of illustrations throughout.  At various points in the message the listeners will look down at the text.  Traditional, tried and tested, faithful expository preaching.  Probably.

It all depends on whether the points you are preaching are the points of the text.  This is where the keyword approach can run into difficulty.  Rarely did Paul, or Peter, or John, set out to list a series of thoughts in parallel form.  Consequently, the processing of the text into your points might result in processed text (and like food, excessive processing can wring the nutrition from it).  Now I need to be careful here because the approach described above can be a very faithful approach to preaching, and very effective.  But I’d like to offer a nudge:

When you preach, are you overtly or implicitly saying “my message (on this text)” and “my points”?  Or, are you overtly and implicitly saying “Paul’s message in this text” and “Paul’s point.”  Exposition that isn’t by the fence at the periphery of camp exposition, but sits right in the middle, is exposition where the text is not just the source of the propositional content and historical background, but where the text is really the boss of the message.  The best expositions are where the listeners haven’t just been informed about the text, but where they have entered into the text, the text has entered into them, and where the text has been set free to do what the text was intended to do.

Too easily some of us don’t really do what the text does, but instead we focus just on saying what the text says, and actually end up helping the text out by nursing it through with the aid of our well planned structures and materials of interest.

Expository, but only just.

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