The Challenge of Raised Adrenaline

February 2, 2011February 2, 2011 / Peter Mead / Leave a comment

Most of the time listeners are fairly comfortable when listening. They may be engaged, interested and tracking along. If that is not the case, then they may be bored, fidgety or distracted. This is not good. But it can also go the other way. They might be tense, adrenaline pumping and up-tight. Typically this extreme only occurs when the speaker does something to spark that kind of reaction. Unlike being bored and disinterested, this heightened state can be both bad or good.

The thing we need to remember as speakers is that if we cause people to have a surge of adrenaline, then we need to be careful what we do with that effect. It is easy to stir people and make them uncomfortable. But to do it in a way that is loving and helpful is a bit more complicated.

I was recently in a dramatic presentation. By definition art engages the emotions. This was certainly the case on this occasion. My heart was pumping, adrenaline was flowing, breath was shortened. Somehow in that state my reactions seemed to be more intense. If I disagreed with something said or done, then I really disagreed. If I appreciated it, I found myself nodding and showing affirmation much more freely. I suppose this is why many react so strongly to drama in church settings, by the way. If it becomes uncomfortable, as art often does, then it feels very uncomfortable.

Anyway, I am not writing about drama, but about preaching. When we raise our voices, offer snippets of dramatic monologue, present graphic images on a screen or by description, stun people with painful or angering illustrations, anything that raises the adrenaline of the listeners, then we must be extra careful. It is easy to cause upset in that state. It is easy to offend. It is easy for people to miss the value of what we do and react to some element of it. It is easy to attach good goals to falsely stirred emotions.

I am certainly not advocating for boring or dry preaching. The Bible is very emotionally stirring. As we represent it, we need to reach the whole person. But when we touch people deeply, when we move people strongly, then we must be very careful and prayerful about what we do at that point. Be a shame to waste a good message by losing the listeners due to recklessness on our part when they are in a heightened state of focus and attention!

The Challenge of Reception Perception

February 1, 2011February 1, 2011 / Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Preaching involves communicating and communicating involves sensitivity to other parties involved. If you preach you know that you can often sense things from the listeners, even if they are vocally silent. You pick up on body language, levels of fidgeting, eye contact, etc. A smiler in the crowd can be a Godsend, but a frowner may just be concentrating. And all the while, you are seeking to communicate. A two-way process. Even a monologue is really two-way when preaching is in action.

The problem is that you can’t always read the signals accurately. Its not just the odd smiler or frowner that’s an issue. Sometimes you have a sense of the atmosphere of the whole, and sometimes that sense is dead wrong. You perceive deadness, but they sense something special occurring. Or you sense a special moment, but they are actually struggling to stay awake. The fact is that sometimes we will completely misunderstand what we sense is going on in the congregation.

So should we give up trying to read them and just do our part? I don’t think so. Our part includes sensitivity to the Lord, and to them. We shouldn’t stop reading the signals, but we should probably make sure we don’t rely on the signals. Allow the times you’ve completely misread folks to keep you humbly dependent on the Lord, leaning on Him and giving your all.

Time is Tight

January 26, 2011January 28, 2011 / Peter Mead / Leave a comment

When you’re preaching, the clock is ticking. In one setting you may have 20 minutes, in another you may have 45. The reality is, though, that messages expand to fill the time available fairly easily. So it is important to think carefully about what to include. Perhaps more importantly, what to exclude. Where can time be trimmed?

Introduction – Sometimes a message needs a longer introduction than hard and fast rules allow. The problem doesn’t come from a long introduction, though, but from an introduction that feels long. If you need to go long, give a sense of relevance and a hint of Bible so that the fussy won’t get worked up (sometimes just reading the first verse of a passage switches off the introduction monitors in the congregation!) However, often the introduction can be trimmed to avoid making the message play catch up.

Illustration – The problem with good illustrations is that you know them well, and listeners will resonate. When they do, you sense it and before you know it the illustration has grown. Beware of expanding illustrations.

Historical and Literary Context – Some preachers never include either, and their preaching suffers significantly. However, choose to include what is pertinent and helpful. Don’t give an extended background to the entire Roman occupation when you are needing to press on with the message. Enough to make sense of the passage is usually enough.

Conclusion – The end of a message can often be far more punchy if it is tightened up. See if time can be saved by nailing a specific conclusion, rather than waffling to halt.

Post Sermon – It is easy to add five minutes to the end of a meeting by having a full song and a longer prayer than necessary. Why not let the sermon soak and leave people pensive rather than switching off with a closing volley of church ammo.

If you rein in the message at every place possible, you’ll probably finish on time. If, by some miracle, you finish five minutes early, absolutely nobody will mind at all! All of this, of course, has to be balanced with achieving your aims. The goal of preaching is not the early finish, its the transformed life.

Every Conviction is Biblical

January 18, 2011January 12, 2011 / Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Many Christians will readily admit that they struggle to apply the teaching of the Bible to their own lives. Strangely though, very few will admit that their convictions may not be thoroughly biblical. Every church, every tradition and every denomination has its own little quirks and unique approaches to things. What is true of churches is true of the people in the churches too. The problems come not from having quirks, but from defending them as biblical when in fact they are not.

How should the church service proceed, how should it be led, how should the music be handled, what is not acceptable in terms of instruments, what can happen in the church building on a Sunday, what time should the service begin, how exactly should the communion table be set out, how many cups can be used, and the list goes on. It is amazing what church details people will hold as strong biblical untouchable convictions. After all, they have a verse to support their position!

So it seems to me that preachers have a prime responsibility to guide, instruct and model in this minefield of application. Some preachers never apply. Others always offer the same applications (trust God, go share your faith, live good lives, etc.) But if we don’t go beyond this, then people will never learn to apply in the areas of the sometimes bizarre church convictions. Surely we want the people in our churches to be enjoying the fullness of personal relationship with the Trinity through Christ, rather than perpetuating sometimes bizarre convictions about all sorts of details and almost believing that Christianity consists in those convictions?

In the next post I want to share some thoughts on application in preaching, specifically in reference to the kind of “incidental detail of Scripture held as deep biblical conviction” that we sometimes come across. Hopefully there is none of this in your church. But don’t be surprised if there is.

Less of a Beating

January 14, 2011January 11, 2011 / Peter Mead / 3 Comments

It’s not true in every case, but for many people it is. Let’s say Person A has an issue with Person B. Perhaps Person A runs through how he might address Person B beforehand, or perhaps he is talking it through with his wife first. When Person B isn’t present, Person A tends to be much stronger in tone. But once they are face to face, Person A will typically be more winsome, more loving, more caring for the feelings of Person B. (There are exceptions, but let’s not get into psychologically profiling people who struggle interpersonally!)

There’s something in this that is analogous to preaching, I think. Let’s suppose you are preaching a biblical passage that contains an instruction from Jesus to his disciples. As preachers we have a tendency to turn any biblical text into an assault on the congregation. It could be encouraging, comforting, tender, sensitive, or gentle, but in the hands of an unthinking preacher, it will easily come across as harsh exhortation. Why does that happen?

I think there are various reasons for this phenomena including a misunderstanding of God, or of how people function, or are motivated, or what Christianity is, or often, just a lack of awareness of how we come across. But I wonder if there is also something in the difference between abstraction and in-person communication that I raised in the first paragraph?

We can easily take the words in a text and pull them out of their historical and interpersonal setting, turning them into a more harsh and abrasive instruction than was the case originally. Pulling an exhortative statement from its context and preaching it as bare instruction will usually feel more like the command that must be obeyed (drill instructor) than an instruction set in the context of interpersonal communication.

Did the disciples feel Jesus was barking out orders when he spoke to them of trusting in God, or of loving one another, or how they should pray, etc.? I suspect not. Somehow in person there would have been a more winsome force involved, the engagement of lives as the setting in which His instruction would have intrigued, motivated, drawn out, stirred, and moved them.

What to do? My suggestion is to be wary of excising the instruction from its narrative setting in order to preach it as instruction today. Better to help listeners imagine being there, being in the sandals of the disciples, feeling what they felt, stirring what stirred in them. Essentially it is about honouring the narrative force of the text rather than over-processing it into bite sized directions for today. Don’t treat every text as a mere collection of principles to be plucked out and fired at our listeners. Instead help the listeners to encounter the people in the text and to be stirred by that, very different, experience.

A Fear Worth Facing: Whose Responsibility?

January 12, 2011January 11, 2011 / Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Over the last couple of days I have written about the preacher’s fear of disengaged listeners. Yesterday I began to respond to the critique of those who might suggest the responsibility is that of the listener to “do the duty” and “have the discipline” to listen to God’s Word preached. My first response to that is somewhat pragmatic (“maybe that’s true, but if people struggle to listen, then why not do everything legitimate to help?”) and hopefully very pastoral (“my love for the listeners drives me to be as engaging as possible”).

Let me offer two more thoughts on this matter:

A. While “responsibility” may not be the best word for it, the issue of responsibility is not black and white. Whose responsibility is it that the sermon be heard? The listener’s? The preacher’s? God’s? I suppose the answer is … yes. On the one side, if a listener is disengaged during a sermon, the first place to look for cause may well be the heart of the listener. (I’m tempted to say that if too many listeners are disengaged during a sermon then maybe we should look at the preacher, but that would distract me from my point here!) On the other side, if a flock does not exhibit greater maturity over time, then it does not seem inappropriate to look at the shepherding that flock has received over time. That is to say, the “responsibility” seems to land on both sides. And at the same time we must know that unless God builds the house, or transforms the lives, then we labour in vain.

B. I don’t see any reason for preachers to abdicate their responsibility, as long as they pursue their ministry in total dependence on God. That is to say, I am responsible to handle the Bible well. I can’t preach error from the text and simply state that it is up to God to transform lives. I am responsible to preach a clear message. I can’t preach confusion and simply state that it is up to the listeners to sort through it (or point to one or two people who thank me afterward and therefore assert that God’s hand is on my ministry). I am responsible to preach relevantly. I can’t simply preach historical and distant content and finish by suggesting that the Spirit will apply to our hearts the truths we have seen in His Word. I am responsible to speak engagingly. I can’t simply blame listeners for not listening, or claim divine sanction to be as poor a communicator as possible so that God can get the glory.

Is God at work and am I totally dependent on Him in order for anything good to transpire? Yes. “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Is it the state of the listener’s heart that will influence how they hear? Yes. But at the same time do I have a stewardship in this ministry that behooves me to prayerfully and by faith do the best that I can? I would say so.

A Fear Worth Facing: Love Driven Preaching

January 11, 2011January 11, 2011 / Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Yesterday I wrote about the fear facing speakers that listeners will be disengaged. I’m sure some would read what I wrote and disagree, perhaps quite strongly. The critique would probably go along these lines:

Listening to the Bible being taught is the responsibility of the listener. It is one of the spiritual disciplines that we teach new believers. They should listen carefully, attentively and prayerfully. They should look for what the Word of God is saying to them. It is not about the preacher, it is about the Word of God. If there is a problem, it is their problem, for it is their duty to listen.

While I am uncomfortable with the tone of this kind of talk, I can see some truth in it. The parable of the sower is really the parable of the soils since the same sower and same seed has different results based on the “hearing” of the soil (heart) in which it lands. Certainly as a listener I remind myself that my issue with a preacher may well be, first and foremost, an issue with my own heart.

Yet as a preacher I find myself responding to this kind of comment with a pragmatic and pastoral response. While it may be true that listeners should listen, the fact is that they won’t if I am not being a good steward of the ministry opportunity. It is a privilege to preach God’s Word, and my delight in it and passion for it should engage listeners.

If I am lacking in key factors that will engage listeners, then I can critique them, I can make them feel guilty, I can harangue, I can pile on the pressure, but am I not choosing a self-protective rather than a loving approach? Surely the pastoral concern for the listener would drive me to do what I can to make the feeding a more engaging experience?

My wife loves our children and wants to feed them a healthy diet. And because she loves them she also makes the meals very palatable and enjoyable. I suppose she could harangue and pile on the guilt about starving millions and her sacrifice in preparing healthy instead of the easier junk options, but her love motivates her to make the food very good, as well as very healthy.

When it comes to the preaching event, there is a responsibility on the side of the listeners. But if I am a loving preacher, then surely I will do everything possible on my part to help them to engage with and hear God’s Word?

A Fear Worth Facing

January 10, 2011January 11, 2011 / Peter Mead / 4 Comments

I think there is one fear that preachers may have, but may be unwilling to face. It’s also true of struggling school teachers, or any public speaker. It is the fear that the listeners may have already left the room, even though their bodies are still sat there.

The signs are obvious – fidgeting, vacant stares, shuffling, unusual levels of coughing or yawning, raised eyebrows, longing looks toward the clock on the wall or the watch on the wrist. It may be that some people will wish they were somewhere else no matter what you do. But what if the number grows from the few relatively unreachables to cross the line into an unacceptable range?

Some speakers may, I suspect, have a deep awareness of this reality every time they preach. But it must be hard to see it for what it is. Much safer to speak of spiritual warfare, or to critique the congregation, or to have a pithy grabber about Jeremiah and other unloved prophets, or to pretend the problem is not there at all. But if it is, it is.

Perhaps some preachers would have the courage to take the faith step of calling it what it is. If you are not engaging the listeners, be honest about that in your prayers. I don’t recall who said it is a sin to bore people with the Bible, but I’m inclined to agree.

What if you’re not consistently boring, but dip your toe in now and then like most of us? Then perhaps it is worth thinking about what it takes to engage a gathering of listeners. It is important to be faithful to the text, but it is something other than that. It is important to be clear in your content and delivery, but it is more than that. It is important to be relevant in your message, but it is more than that. It is the human to human communication characteristic of being engaging.

Possible ingredients to add to faithful, clear and relevant content, in no particular order: energy, smile, humour, confidence, gentleness, humility, authority, sensitivity, warmth, eye contact, vocal variation, naturalness, authenticity, laughter, affection, poise, and you can probably add to the list . . .

Bible Versions and Preaching – Say What?

January 6, 2011January 5, 2011 / Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Yesterday we asked the question about what to do with the 1611 anniversary, recognizing that each church situation is different. Some would be wise to avoid overplaying it. Others might use it as a great evangelistic opportunity. Others may see it as an educational moment. But what about Bible Versions and preaching? Here are some largely non-1611 connected thoughts…

1. Inject gratitude into an often overly contentious issue. As a preacher, if the subject comes up, you have the opportunity to either stoke the fires of dispute, or to inject gratitude for the amazing privilege we have in our language. Just read about what it took to produce Bibles in the past, or observe the work involved in a new translation, or consider the sacrifice paid by many in the world today if they are caught with one, or recognize the historical anomaly of easy book ownership, or even look at what is now available for free online (for example, check out the excellent NET Bible) . . . and you will see that we have great reasons to be very very grateful. As a preacher your opinion may count for a little more than that of others, even if you are uninformed. Be informed, but be careful too!

2. Be very wary of undermining trust in translations. People don’t automatically know the difference between the inspired nature of the original texts, and the authoritative nature of translations inasmuch as they accurately convey the original text. Sometimes real damage has been done by a cavalier critique of some detail in one translation or another, leaving listeners feel that they cannot trust their version, or even any version in their language. Surely this is not helpful. Often there are far more subtle ways to convey a more accurate sense of the meaning of the text than outright critique of the translation (and remember that one of the hardest things to know is what you don’t know on a subject . . . so it’s probably safe to presume your knowledge, even combined with a commentator, may not be absolutely better than the translation committees of several Bible versions … there are some issues in translations, but be humble and careful what you say!)

Tomorrow I’ll share a couple more thoughts on this issue, feel free to comment.

(NB The Cor Deo podcast that just went live is a conversation about the role of the Bible in the believer’s life and relational Bible reading – click here to get to the player, or find Cor Deo on iTunes.)

Too Subtle Transitions

January 4, 2011January 5, 2011 / Peter Mead / Leave a comment

I think I have written in the past about not going through the turns in your message too quickly. If you take a turn quickly you can easily lose the passengers. I was just discussing this with a friend, particularly one type of transition that doesn’t work so well. Let’s call it the “conjoined rhetorical questions” transition. Hardly pithy, but descriptive nonetheless.

Here’s how it might look:

Perhaps you are thinking that this instruction seems challenging, or perhaps you are thinking about how you’ve already failed . . .

This kind of sentence can function like a hinge between two sections. But I suspect your listeners may get lost in the turn. Essentially the transition here, potentially a major one in the message, comes down to the following: “…or…” – what shall we say, milliseconds in length? Certainly easy to miss and the listeners will then find themselves subtly confused by your talk of past failure when you are talking about instruction for us in the future (they missed the turn).

What would it look like to slow this down? It will seem pedantic in written form, but remember, oral communication is different than written communication!

So there you have it: the passage asks something of us that isn’t easy. Perhaps you’re thinking how challenging it seems? I’m certainly finding this to be a challenging instruction. Not easy at all. But hang on a second, hold on. It is challenging, but perhaps you’re not looking ahead to the challenge. Perhaps, like me, you’re looking back because you have failed in this area in the past? That’s another issue we have to think about. It’s challenging, yes. But what about past failure? Let’s think about that . . .

Instead of milliseconds, now I’m taking around thirty seconds, plus pauses.

Be careful not to rely on a conjunction to achieve a transition. Too easy to miss. Too easy to lose people. And if they are floundering for a minute or two, your message is not communicating.