Truth and Vision

When we preach the truth, it should stir vision.  Many preachers hope that will occur.  Good preachers make sure it does.

As you preach through a text it will be offering a vision – a vision of what God is like, a vision of God’s purposes, a vision of what His people should be like in response to Him, a vision of what the world could be like.  The problem is that it is too easy to preach truth from a text and feel like the job is done.

The preacher’s task is not only to understand the text (specific), in its context (general), but also to know the listeners (specific) in their context (general).  This includes knowing how the message will come across.  So there is the detailed part of communication – i.e. do they understand what I mean by each word and each sentence.  But there is also the broader part of communication – i.e. have they been able to envision the bigger picture of what is going on here?  Too often we settle for being understood at an atomistic level, but fail to make the most of the broad vision casting opportunity.

So when we preach, we should be asking ourselves, and God, what does this passage depict for us?  Is it speaking of the fallen condition of humanity and God’s great redemptive work?  Is it speaking of God’s character and attractiveness?  Is it painting a portrait of what the body of Christ should look like?  Is it suggestive of all that an individual believer, or local church, could be and do in response to Christ?  Try to see the big picture on the applicational side, the listeners’ side of the divide.

Once you catch a clear glimpse of the bigger picture (again, I am speaking of the bigger picture on the listeners’ side, rather than just the passage in its context, which is vital for understanding the specifics), then look for ways to help the listener to hear and to see that scene.  A visionary message, in this sense, will stir hearts and lift listeners in motivation.  It will rouse tired hearts.  It will move stuck believers.

Each passage is a specific painting in the greater collage of God’s great canon.  Each sermon is an opportunity to stir hearts with something bigger than understanding a specific painting.

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Can You See It Yet?

Here’s a hypothetical suggestion to make a point.  The traditional approach to preaching is to announce and read the text very early on, or even prior to, the sermon.  What if we did the exact opposite?

I used to watch a children’s television programme in which the artist would be painting away on a wall or large canvas.  A stroke here.  A bit of colour there.  A splash of paint.  A few dots.  “Can you see it yet?”  The impressive thing was that until the very end I would have no idea what he was painting.  Then suddenly it would all come together.

What if we preached like that?  Hypothetical, but bear with me.  You start your message with surfacing a need and you move into the body of the message explaining and applying the text (this is where the idea fails in reality) without identifying it.  In your conclusion you read the passage.  Just before the conclusion would you still be asking “Can you see it yet?”

If this were possible, it would be anything but impressive.  Yet not unusual.  When some preachers preach, usually after having read the text on which the sermon is based, the discerning listeners are left bemused by how what they are hearing seems to bear no resemblance to the text.  The undiscerning listeners are left with the impression that this is how the Bible should be handled.  An anecdote here.  A pithy line there.  An application.  A story.  A comment.  But can we see the connection to the text?

I’m not suggesting you leave the reading until the end, unless that would help the sermon.  I am suggesting the goal in preaching is not to make the connection between text and sermon a complete mystery!

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Torrents of Trite Truths

Little story.  Almost a decade ago I was teaching a class in a Bible college overseas.  I was teaching a wonderful group of enthusiastic church ministers how to handle the New Testament via a survey class.  It was such a delight to share with them in that setting.

One day during the eight-day course, we had the chapel time with all the classes and staff present.  A pastor was visiting from a church that had put a lot of funding into the institution, so naturally the “big church” pastor was invited to preach during chapel.  It was painful.

He wasn’t really preaching a text, so much as preaching platitudes.  Problem was that the enthusiastic students seemed to trigger something in him.  Swept away on the wave of vocal affirmation, the pastor noticeably “rose to the occasion.”  He went off on a wild safari of pithy alliterated lists and trite truths.  Each time he got a vocal response he cranked it up a level.  The room was electric.  I sank lower and lower in my seat, oscillating between anger and momentary depression.

As I left the chapel (time eventually ran out and he had to stop), my young travel companion made a discerning comment about the whole thing.  Unfortunately the students were different.  They processed the difference between what they were learning and what they experienced from the “great preacher” by dividing learning from preaching.

Oh yes, there is a right way to handle the Bible and honour the message that God inspired.  And there is a great way to preach so that listeners are stirred into a frenzy affirming trite truths and pithy epithets.  Disconnect.  One didn’t feed the other.

I feel like I say this regularly in as many ways as I can think of, but let me say it again: please please please preach the text you are preaching.  Anyone (including four year olds) can spurt the truths of the faith learned parrot fashion.  Surely God wants those mature enough to be sensitive to His inspired text to carefully and humbly be fed and feed others from the Word.

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Tone Deaf Preaching

You won’t hear me starting a chorus in public.  Tone deaf.  But what about preaching?  Is there a need for aural sensitivity in the preacher?  I think there is, absolutely.

What is the tone of the text?  Some preachers deal with texts as flat data sets offering them a set of information from which to draw a textually rooted sermon (which is better than those who use the text as a springboard to bounce off to reach the heights of their own constructed sermonizing!)  But if we are going to be genuinely biblical preachers, then we must develop a sensitivity for the tone of the text.  Galatians 1 is very different from Philippians 4, which is neither Psalm 51 nor Isaiah 40.  What is the tone of the text?  Without sensitivity to the tone, you aren’t grasping a text properly.

What is the tone of your preaching?  It doesn’t matter how good a sermon may be on paper, your congregation have to hear you preach it.  This means how it comes across is very important.  If you are consistently coming across as nagging, or edgy, or aggressive, or disrespectful, or patronizing, or prideful . . . and if you don’t know it, this is a problem.  Ask for honest feedback.  Listen to yourself.  Watch yourself.  Is the tone what you want it to be?  Is the tone what the text suggests?  Is the tone what they need it to be?

The tone of the text.  The tone of the preacher.  Some preachers seem tone deaf to both.  Good preachers aren’t.

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Bony Outlines

How bony should you make your sermon outline?  Some people are passionately committed to having the sermon outline show through for maximum clarity.  Every point is obviously a point.  It is offered as such (my third point is…)  The points need to be equal in weight, alliterated in wording and balanced perfectly.

This kind of rhetorical approach to preaching is understandable.  It’s what we have been told is the right way to preach.  It is perhaps what we have often heard done either successfully or not.  Maybe we were taught it in seminary.  Apparently people like to take notes of the points.  Apparently parallel points are more memorable (and apparently remembering your outline is the goal of some listeners).

Can I question the point of all this for a moment?  What if the points of the sermon are actually for the preacher’s benefit, rather than for the listeners?  What if their take-away should be the main idea of the passage and how it has marked them, rather than a synopsis of your outline that they probably will never look at again?

If the only goal in preaching were clarity, then bony preaching would be the way to go.  Let the skeleton show through in everything.  But what about faithfulness to the text?  Perhaps the text doesn’t offer three balanced points, and to make it offer that would be to abuse the text?  What about relevance?  What about engaging the listener?  What about transformation that doesn’t come merely from information transfer?  Perhaps bony preaching is not the only way to go?

I do not advocate rejection of traditional outlining methodologies.  I am not saying we should go free form and nebulous in our preaching.  But I would suggest that my outline is my servant, not my product.  I outline the flow of the sermon to reflect the text and the message, but that is for my sake.  Somehow I have to find the balance between bony preaching (clear, but potentially weak in other areas), and fleshy sermons (engaging, interesting, and/or biblically faithful, but potentially less “clear” by traditional measures).

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Why Preach From There?

As someone who preaches in a variety of churches and settings, I often find myself evaluating a preaching position.  I was recently in the friendliest little countryside chapel that just happened to have the highest pulpit platform I’ve seen in a long time.  Why preach from all the way up there?

Elevation Intimidation – If I were to preach from up there I would be implying several things.  For one, there is authority when spoken from on high.  But on the other hand, there is also a sense of intimidation.  A sense of separation between the lofty preacher and the humble listeners.

Distant Proclamation – In other venues the front three rows are empty and the pulpit is then back some distance.  Again, it is a position of authority, but there is also the sense of interpersonal distance.  If my goal is to be an aloof expert, that is fine.  But if I want to increase the sense of connection in the communication event, perhaps I need to preach from closer (and on the same level avoids the elevation issues mentioned above).

Obstructed Communication – In most venues there is a barricade, a pile of rubble and barrels that obscure the preacher from the listener.  Really?  Ok, maybe not specifically that, but the big old wooden pulpit monument functions in the same way.  Authority?  Sure.  But what about the inevitable distance that obstruction puts into communication?  Try having a meaningful conversation through a door, or a wall.  Now cut a hole so you can see just the upper torso and head…still feels weird.

If our goal is to connect and communicate, then we must consider where we preach from, and why.

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What If?

Thankfully most churches do not descend into the superficiality of contemporary TV games shows.  Now I would be highly relevant and refer to one, but I don’t watch any, so I’ll have to be slightly generic.  Imagine for a moment that your church instituted a new slot in the church service. . .

Each week two preachers take turns to give the opening five minutes of their sermon.  Then the audience get to vote for which sermon they get to hear that day.  Perhaps the losing introduction gets less travel expenses.  Perhaps the church could install a praise-o-meter and the selection could be made via volume of singing in two subsequent songs.  Ok, enough of that.

Thankfully most churches don’t descend to such a level.  We have a bit more of an appropriate atmosphere and ethos around the worship time and the sermon.  Or do we?

Even without the flashing lights of the praise-o-meter, or the host with his “able assistant,” or the hype of a vote, something similar does happen each week.  At the end of the introduction, each listener chooses whether they will engage or disengage for the rest of the message.  Few, if any, will leave.  But many may leave internally, heading for the golf course, or the weekly to-do list, or the forthcoming interview, or whatever.  In fact, by the end of the introduction, many leavers will already be long gone.  The first moments and minutes of a message are so vital!

Preaching is no game.  But let’s not neglect the importance of arresting attention, surfacing a need, engaging the listener, demonstrating earliest possible relevance of speaker, text and message.  Don’t depend on their dutiful commitment to listen to the Word.  Win them so they can’t help themselves!

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Facing a Phrase Unneeded

When I listen to others preach, there are a handful of phrases that always stir a little reaction inside me.  One is, “of course we all know…” or variants.  “I’m sure you know the story of…” or “To quote a verse you probably have memorised…” or similar.

Why do people say this?  I think it is about a sort of humility.  It is a shorthand way of saying, “I know many of you have been Christians for many years and I am nervous, if I am honest, that I am not bringing anything new to the church today, so since my message is the same old same old, I’m going to pre-empt your critique that it was all the same old stuff by acknowledging that as I preach…”  That would be cumbersome, so “As we all know…” it is, then.  Hang on.  Perhaps that family of phrases is unhelpful.

What if somebody doesn’t know it?  We live in an age of increasing biblical illiteracy.  People in our churches do not know their Bibles, generally speaking, as church goers may have done a generation or three ago.  Giving the impression that everyone in the church knows something can be very unhelpful for the individual who doesn’t know that (uncomfortable to be the odd one out, even if actually there are many in the same boat, they will all feel alone at this moment)!  Which leads on to a second point…

What if somebody is visiting?  Chances are, an outsider is already feeling like an alien who has unknowingly landed on a different planet as they try to figure out the customs and culture of this thing called church.  Don’t add to it by making them feel stupid because they don’t know what “we all know.”  But there’s another reason I’d like to throw in here too:

Is the Bible really same old same old?  Absolutely not!  If you think it is, don’t preach it, please.  The ancient documents collected together that we call the Bible is more fresh and alive and new and relevant and powerful and engaging and poignant and stirring that today’s newspaper headlines.  We preach it and we preach it and we preach it again because it isn’t old news.  It is fresh and relevant and more for today than anything else any of us could come up with.  So preach with enthusiasm and excitement, not just for the visitor who may well have never heard it before, but for the most tired looking saint of the decades who needs to feel the force of the freshness of the Word anew right now!

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Application as Looking

We hear about preaching needing application.  Some end up at one extreme offering to-do lists for successful living that make the Bibles bulge (and the listeners feel overwhelmed with pressure).  Others end up at the other extreme of rejecting all reference to application since it is supposedly the work of the Spirit (implying that communicating the passage, pointing to Christ, etc., are not works of the Spirit?), and you hear things as misguided as “now may the Spirit apply to our hearts the truths we have seen in His Word.”  Wrong! Preachers should not abdicate any of their role, neither should they think of any part of their role as being completely on their own shoulders either.

I have previously written about the need for our application to go deeper than conduct.  There is a place for conduct in our application, of course.  There is also the need for our application to reach to the thinking and worldview and belief systems of our listeners.  And there is the deeper level of the affections, the values, the emotional centre, the loves of our listeners.  Affections, belief and conduct.  Three levels of legitimate and necessary application.

But let me offer another nudge.  Not a three-layer nudge, but a two-part nudge.  Instead of always offering “do” to our listeners (with the attitudinal companion of pressure), let’s consider our role as nudging listeners with a “look!” (with the attitudinal companion of enthusiasm).

As we offer the Word, explaining and applying it to our listeners, let a large chunk of the application be “look!”  As people see the God of Scripture, revealed in the Son, by the power of the Spirit, their lives will be transformed: inside to out, affections, belief, conduct.

Our task is not primarily to be a conveyor of our exegetical insights, opaquely offering the Bible to contemporary folks.  Our task is more to be a lens, effectively handling the Scripture to offer a glimpse of the One revealing Himself in the Word, transparently letting God be seen to contemporary listeners with eyes to see.  So we speak and they listen.  And we say Look!  And by God’s grace they see.

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Delivery Matters If…

Your view of the importance of delivery in preaching may reveal a deeper theological issue.  I don’t want to overstate this, because there are numerous factors involved in a person’s view of the importance of delivery.  The general view of those in our “tradition,” the training we’ve received, the perception of what is spiritual, etc.  But there does seem to be a correlation between one’s view of sermon delivery and one’s view of God.

If God is essentially a giver of information and requirement, i.e. the distant unknowable deity of classical theism, then delivery will not seem so important.  The job of the preacher is to put the information before the people.  What they do with that information is between them and God.  Some will emphasize that it is only God’s Spirit than can vivify the spoken word in the minds and wills of those hearing.  Others may emphasize that the listeners are duty-bound to act on what they hear.  However, whatever the theological position, there tends to be a distrust of any focus on delivery since some sort of performance may well muddy the waters of the relatively simple information-only view of Christianity.  To touch the heart must be manipulative and somehow not of God, since He is pure mind and will.  Thus the preacher should be as plain as possible, so that it is the message alone that touches listeners and glory goes to Christ alone.

Whether they are right or wrong in their understanding, all would agree that the glory must go to Christ alone.  However, is there another view?

If God is essentially a giver of Himself, a communicator, a relator, i.e. the made-known God of biblical trinitarian Christianity, then delivery suddenly becomes more important.  The job of the preacher is be God’s spokesperson, re-presenting the inspired message of the text, and thereby offering God to the listeners.  What they do with that communication is ultimately between them and God, yet it is by no means a “mere information” approach to preaching.  It involves heart-to-heart communication, it involves person-to-person connection, it is about relationship even in the course of a “monological” sermon.  It is possible to abuse delivery by making it into a fake performance issue (but that is inherently opposed to the authentic relational communication of a God who comes to us genuinely in the Son and by the Spirit).  So we should not over-react to “performance” or “sales pitch” trickery by disavowing all attention to communication.  Rather we look to be genuine/natural and effective/engaging/compelling communicators.  Is God glorified by poor or unthought-through communication?  Since God is such an effective communicator, such an engaging communion of three persons, such a captivating lover, surely we must seek to be the best communicators we can be as we represent His Word to others?

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