Delivery

Finishing Weak

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Finishing a sermon is neither easy nor natural.  There are various approaches taken, and in this post I’d like to offer a few I’ve observed in myself and others.  In the next post I will try to offer some constructive alternatives.

1. The “Searching for a Runway” Conclusion – This is a common one that we fall into when we fail to plan our conclusion before starting to preach.  As the sermon wears on we become aware of the need to land the plane, but have to search for a decent runway on which to land it.  Consequently as we’re coming in to land we remember that we haven’t reinforced a certain element of the message, so we pull out of the descent and circle around for another attempt.  Next time in we think of half a conclusion that might work better and so pull out again, circle around and turn in to another possible landing strip.  Needless to say, passengers don’t find this pursuit of a better runway to be particularly comfortable or helpful.  When the message drags on a couple of minutes or ten longer than it feels like it should, any good done in the sermon tends to be undone rather quickly!

2. The “Just Stop” Conclusion – There are some preachers who don’t seem to be aware of the possibility of a strong finish and so don’t bother to land the plane.  It simply drops out of the sky at a certain point.  Once all has been said, without any particular effort to conclude the message, its suddenly over.  This is a particular danger for those who go on to announce a closing hymn, I find.

3. The “Overly Climactic” Conclusion – At the other extreme are those who know the potential of a good finale and so overly ramp up the climactic crescendo in the closing stages.  After preaching a ho-hum message, they suddenly try to close it off with a fireworks display that will leave everyone stunned and standing open mouthed with barely a “ooo-aaah” on their lips.  Truth is that if the message hasn’t laid the foundation for such an ending, then people will be left stunned and unsure of what to say, “uuuugh?”

4. The “Uncomfortable Fade” Conclusion – Perhaps the domain of new, inexperienced and untrained preachers, this follows the general comfort rule of preaching: if you are not comfortable in your preaching, your listeners won’t be either.  So the message comes to what might be a decent ending, then the speaker, well, sort of, just adds something like, “that’s all I wanted to say, I think, yeah, so….” (like this paragraph, 20 words too long!)

5. The “Discouraging Finale” Conclusion – Another tendency among some is to preach what might be a generally encouraging message, but then undo that encouragement with a final discouraging comment.  People need to be left encouraged to respond to the Word and to apply the Word, but some have a peculiar knack for finishing with a motivational fizzle comment.

 

 

Manipulation in Disguise

/ Peter Mead / 4 Comments

Manipulation in preaching is a subject I have visited periodically on this site.  Yesterday I touched on a new angle though (new to this site, although I wouldn’t claim anything on here is truly new, of course).  Here is that final sentence again – 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?

This is a real issue that needs to be addressed.  I would hope that no preacher wants to manipulate, but that all good-willed preachers are doing the best they can.  Of course, I don’t want to accuse anyone of sinful motivation.  But I do want to undermine the logic supporting an approach to preaching that esteems the intellectual at the expense of any engagingly affective fare.  There is here, as so often is the case, a pendulum swing that goes too far.

At one extreme we have manipulative emotional preaching that stirs up the listeners, manipulates commitments and response, sways the feelings of listeners and then seals the deal while they are off balance.  There are ways to do this.  Certain rhythms of speech, stirring background music, heart-wrenching anecdotes, excessive passion in the preacher, tear-jerking vulnerability, etc.  It is certainly possible to go places the preaching text doesn’t go in order to manipulate reaction.

At the other extreme we have disaffected preaching that avoids any hint of manipulation, but leaves all response to the convicting work of the Holy Spirit.  (Did you see what I just did?  I presented this extreme in entirely justifiable and honourable terms.  Who would resist this approach?  What if I kept the excessive tones of the previous paragraph though?)

At the other extreme we have manipulative intellectual preaching that puffs up the preacher, manipulates affirmation and the fleshly desire to be as spiritual as the preacher, and then guarantees positive response by offering humble explanation of the approach to preaching that is being advocated (sometimes giving the impression that any other approach to preaching would be in direct violation of some clear mandate of God himself).  There are ways to manipulate listeners at the other extreme of the scale.  It is possible to present yourself and your ministry in ways that do not reflect the character and values of God, and do not truly represent the Word we preach.

Now I am deliberately pushing this issue to get us to think.  Again, I don’t know of many who are seeking to manipulate.  But what if our position is doing that and we are unaware?  We must be careful.  Perhaps when we see the pendulum has swung too far we need to come back closer to the centre.  The answer is not to disaffect our preaching, but to stick closer to the text.  When people are moved deeply by the truth of the text being preached, we represent God’s Word well.  We don’t need to add anything to it.  Neither do we need to strip it of all emotion.  Rather we need to re-present it to the best of our ability, while simultaneously leaning fully into God’s Spirit to do what our best efforts can never do – to transform us and our listeners as we preach the Word.

Troublingly Distant

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

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 . . .

Where is the Virtue in Disconnecting?

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

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.

Superior Ammunition. Really?

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

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.

Preaching and Story – Part 3

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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 1

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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).

People Communicate

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

We can subconsciously slip into viewing preaching as something other than communication. How so? Well, we can slip into thinking it is about simply teaching information, or view it as a literary exercise (written and read), or view it as a liturgical procedure. But preaching is about communication. Even though it is typically monological, it is still communication.

For communication to occur there has to be connection between people. I heard a teacher say recently in respect to using media, “When I communicate the scriptures it may be old news to me, but it has to be good news to connect with people. . . The good news became a person. . . People communicate, not things.” I would extend that thought by suggesting that people communicate, not statements, nor facts, nor anecdotes, but people.

How easily we lose sight of this and end up with good content, well illustrated, relevantly applied, clearly structured, but still fail to communicate because we fail to pay attention to the need for interpersonal connection. I sat in a meeting a while back and the speaker didn’t smile until 53 minutes into the meeting. Not ideal for connection. The message met every criteria, except it didn’t seem to connect. It lacked smile, warmth, empathy, energy, enthusiasm, eye contact, connection.

People may not typically respond verbally in your church, but preach so as to stir response internally. Preach so that they are interacting mentally and emotionally with the message, and with you. If they don’t connect, they won’t trust you, and deep down, they will distrust the message too (even while affirming it, they will remain applicationally cold toward it, because you seem interpersonally cold toward them).

Distractions

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Distractions happen. Sometimes worse than others. This morning I was preaching on a ship (if you know me you will know which one). Ten minutes into my message there was a drill which meant about twenty or so people rushed out. Momentary distraction. Five minutes later three of the fire crew returned and were putting on their apparatus in the front corner of the hall, twenty feet from me. Distraction.

Thankfully most of us don’t have to compete with something that interesting most of the time. But what to do when people are all looking at something else? This morning I didn’t fight it. What advantage to compete and have people only half hear what you are saying?

Whatever you decide to do, one very important key is that your listeners will pick up on your mood. If you are tense and annoyed, they will feel bad and the distraction will be increased. If you seem calm and unflustered, they will be the same. In fact, sometimes it really helps to diffuse any tension they are feeling by a gentle and careful acknowledgement of the situation.

One thing that is clear, is that if you don’t have their attention, speaking is pointless. I remember reading of Bruce Wilkinson’s memory of Howard Hendricks’ absolute commitment to commanding the attention of his students, for without attention, there can be no learning.

So how do you do with attention? Not when there is a display by the local fire brigade twenty feet from the speaker, but when there are the normal distractions of life. People have other things on their minds, the seats aren’t always the most comfortable, not everyone had an invigorating night’s sleep, blood sugar levels do drop at key moments, etc.

It’s one of those things, I suppose. The more obviously you are trying to get attention, the less effective you will probably be. But you should be doing something. Somehow your voice, your energy, your body language, your manner, your content, your enthusiasm, your something has to get and keep attention . . . Otherwise it is largely irrelevant what you are doing when you preach.

Arriving at the Destination

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Just a quick post on something I’ve mentioned before, but worth a revisit.  The best flight is one that has a planned destination, and once arriving there, it lands.  The same is true with preaching.  How easily we can end up planning the landing mid-flight, as we preach!  How tempting it is to pull out during descent to circle around one more time and add in a couple of elements we thought of saying, then forgot.  How uncomfortable to be a passenger on that kind of flight, or in that kind of sermon!

Know where the message is going.  Plan the landing ahead of time.  Perhaps have a final sentence that really nails the message.  Get there.  Say it.  Stop.

I have often been impressed at how Haddon Robinson seems to land his messages with a great sentence and a definite period, rather than waffling and fizzling to a vague finish.  I know I need to keep working on that, so I thought I’d share it here in case you do too!