Delivery

Too Obvious To State?

/ Peter Mead / Leave a comment

I was in a conversation with a friend the other day and his question prompted a response that I heard previously from Haddon Robinson.  Interestingly, I don’t remember Haddon overtly teaching this concept, but it came out several times in responses to questions he was asked.  Perhaps these three principles (from Aristotle, I believe), are too obvious to state.  Let me state them anyway:

A message needs unity – that is, a message should be about one thing.  Not three things, or numerous things, but one thing.  A sense of unity is important.  If it’s missing then the listeners will supply an imposed unity (often in the form of only remembering your most poignant or amusing illustration . . . which can be frustrating when you are later met with, “Hi!  You’re the preacher who preached the message about the child lost in the funfair!”, when actually you were preaching about salvation but didn’t make that clear by presenting a united message!)

A message needs to be in order – Often a message that makes total sense in the order of 1, 2, 3, 4, simply does not communicate  when it is structured 1, 3, 4, 2.  Or even worse: 1, 3, part of 4, part of 2, rest of 4, etc.  The speaker should think through the order of the message and make sure it makes sense.

A message needs a sense of progress – It needs to be going somewhere.  Without progress the message is about as enjoyable as treading water, in a confined space, with limited air (perhaps it’s only me that feels claustrophobic in a too slow message?)  The preacher needs to give a sense of going somewhere so that the journey through the message can be more satisfying than enduring the ticking of the clock.

Unity, order and progress.  Basics.  Obvious ones, perhaps, but probably worth stating to ourselves now and then!

Don’t Rush

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

I’m not referring specifically to the speed of delivery here.  Some of us need to slow down sometimes, others could really do with speeding up slightly, and we all need to be sensitive to the particular listeners before us.

I am referring to the pace of information being offered.  It is easy, especially after studying for many hours, to overload the listeners’ bandwidth.  Listeners need time to process information.  Images take time to form.  Stories take time to tell.  Take the necessary time.

As well as taking the necessary time, be aware of the aural equivalent of optical illusions.  There are things we do that may not speed up the pace the words are emerging, but will give the impression that the information is rushing out:

1. Mini illustrations, quotes and anecdotes. It is easy to jump through illustrations really quickly.  It may work, or it may overwhelm the bandwidth.

2. Piling up Biblical illustrations. It is so easy to jump in and out of a biblical book, then another, and another.  All the while you are seeking to underline the point of the main passage, but listeners can easily feel overwhelmed with unfamiliar contexts and content (even if they know the contexts, it still takes mental effort to process a passing illustration).

3. Key explanations unrestated. It is easy to make a vital connection.  I was just listening to a sermon where a key, critical, vital connection was made in the space of a handful of words.  “Here xyz means jkl.”  It was a link that required some backing up and explanation.  It slipped by and the next five minutes I was struggling to listen because I didn’t get the four-word sentence (I understood the sentence, but couldn’t see how he got there from that verse).

4. Transitions. While it is possible to drive quickly down the straight road, we need to slow down through corners.  Transitioning between one point and the next is a critical moment in the message, but it is so easy to fly through the bends.

5. Multiple purposes. If you are trying to achieve too many things, the message will feel choppy and disconnected.  When listeners can’t follow the flow that comes from unity of purpose, they will feel like the message is firing in multiple directions and therefore struggle to take it all in (in fact, they won’t, they’ll reprocess for unity and probably make the main thing the most compelling illustration or story used!)

Let’s beware of things we may do that give the sense of being too fast.  Allow listeners enough time in the passage you’re preaching to let it soak down into their lives and saturate their hearts.

Feel the Force: Discourse

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This is where we sometimes struggle the most.  When preaching the epistles (less so the speeches of Joshua, Jesus, etc.), we can easily fall into logical information transfer and presentation of facts.  But the fact is that all discourse is set in a narrative context.  How do we make sure listeners feel the force of the discourse sections of Scripture, especially the epistles?

1. Be sure to set the scene contextually – the text is a glimpse into a narrative. It is when we treat the epistles as timeless statements or creeds, rather than letters, that we lose sight of the specific situations that sparked their composition in the first place.  Help people to feel the emotion of Paul writing his last letter to Timothy, or his anger at the corrupting of the gospel in Galatia, or his connection with the Philippian church, or his passion for the unity of the churches in Rome.  It takes effort and skill to effectively set a text in its historical context, but it must be done for listeners to really feel the force of the text.

2. Consider how to appropriately target the message to the listeners. If we are facing similar problems today, then perhaps the text can be preached with a sense of directness, rather than held at arms length as an exhibit from the ancient world.  Perhaps the Galatian error hasn’t been introduced in your church (although perhaps contemporary churchgoers are closer to that than we’d like to think!)  So if the original purpose and thrust doesn’t quite fit, would it work to imagine how it might and then preach directly?  Somehow we need to hear what God is saying to us, now.

3. Build on the imagery included in the text. The epistles are not pure logical argumentation.  They regularly refer to people, incidents, imagery, examples, rhetorical devices, etc.  As a preacher we can build on these to make sure our preaching of that text is not mere lecturing on the facts with tacked on application.  Most texts are far richer in imagery or wordplay than we tend to think.  Not only in poetry and narrative, but also in the epistles, the text will often yield plenty of “illustrative” material if we observe carefully!

4. Build a sense of progression into the structure. How easy it is to simply produce a parallel set of points that do not build, do not progress, do not intrigue and do not pack a punch.  A good outline is not only somewhat symmetrical (and not always that), but reflects the progression and punch of the text.

As we preach the text, let’s make it our goal to help listeners to feel the force of the text.  Understand it, yes.  Apply it, yes.  But more than that, feel it (for when the force of the text is felt, understanding and application will increase!)

Feel the Force: Narrative

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Yesterday we touched briefly on poetry and noted how easy it is to preach without conveying the force of the text.  Today let’s have a brief reminder regarding narrative.  If the “force” of poetry lies in often emotive imagery, the “force” of narrative rests in the lack of rest, the tension necessary for a story to be a story.

1. We mustn’t sacrifice the tension for other details. It is easy to preach a story in component parts as if it were merely an illustration of propositional truths.  I certainly am not prepared to give up the reality that a single story will be held together by a single sense of purpose, tension and thus, a proposition.  However, preaching story requires telling story and feeling story.  It is not enough to break up the text into segments and describe each as if we were writing a commentary.  For the force of the story to get across, the listeners have to be aware of the tension in the story, more than that, they need to feel the tension.

2. We mustn’t lose the resolution in the rhythm of the message. If the story really becomes a story by the introduction of tension, then the story is rapidly approaching the end once that tension is resolved.  It is in the resolution of the story that we usually have the key to unlocking the purpose and meaning of the whole.  How is the prodigal brought into the family?  (And interestingly, why isn’t the tension resolved for his older brother a few verses later?)  What is God’s evaluation of the two men praying in the temple?  Who demonstrates neighborly love to the injured man by the road?  If our message is not built around telling the story, then it is easy for the resolution to be lost in the detail of our structure.

3. The text is lean, but effective engagement requires the forming of imagery. The Bible does not give much detail in the telling of most of its stories.  Every detail counts and should be studied carefully.  However, the listeners are not studying the text at length, they are listening to you preach it.  So for them to be able to engage with the text, to be able to identify with central characters, to disassociate from others, to wrestle with the tension, they need effective and developed description of the events.  It takes time for the mists to clear on the screen of their hearts so that they can feel the force of the narrative!

Aim for Simple

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Last night I led a Bible study in the Psalms.  This study series is deliberately designed to include some more challenging “academic” content, making participants aware of the possibilities in terms of formal study of the Psalms, hermeneutical principles, etc.  But the bulk of the time is spent not talking about the Psalms, but looking at a Psalm or two.  Actually, last night we looked at three.

Most people found the reading ahead of the study a little overwhelming.  It was.  A relatively lengthy explanation of how the book was formed and how the shape evolved during that process.  Then we looked at a section of Psalms to see the evidence of deliberate shaping .  Then we spent the bulk of the time observing, interpreting, reflecting on, applying, enjoying, responding to the three Psalms.

That was a Bible study, and not a normal Bible study.  It was not a sermon.  When I preach I have to avoid the temptation to prove my study efforts, to demonstrate my level of exegtical ability, to convince listeners of some academic point or to present material at a level above the heads of the listeners.  When I preach I want the message of the text itself to be clear and to be clearly applied.  Simple is better than complicated.  Clear is better than opaque.

I would rather hear “I understood that” over “that was so deep” (i.e. I didn’t understand it).  Let’s be profound in preparation, profound in impact, but simple in clear content, vocabulary and presentation.

Exposition, Narrative and a Pot of Soup

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There is a common misunderstanding of expositional preaching in relation to Bible stories.  I’ve heard the analogy used of a pot of soup.  A narrative sermon is like a pot of soup prepared carefully to be enjoyed by the guests – an experience to be savoured.  An expositional sermon is like an explanation of the recipe of the pot of soup.  Recognizing the difference between narrative preaching and preaching narratives, let’s engage with this analogy briefly.

With some preachers this negative recipe description may be fitting, but that doesn’t make the analogy accurate.  An expository preacher is concerned about communicating the point of the passage, rather than seeking to explain the point of every detail.  A good expository preacher knows that a story has its own way of carrying and conveying its point.  Thus a good expositor preacher, preaching a story, will not dissect it into a lifeless and experience-free recipe, but will communicate the story as effectively and accurately as possible.

What needs to be added to the telling of the story?  Any necessary explanation to make sense of it.  An underlining of the point, exposed for clarity, but appropriately timed so as not to undermine the impact.  If not inherently implicit, some form of emphasis on the contemporary relevance of the story.

What isn’t needed is endless detailed explanation, or numerous unnecessary and disconnected illustrations, or ill-timed statements of the proposition, or commentary-style titles for each segment of the message, or a manner which robs the story of its emotion, tension or energy.

When you preach a story, be sure to be expository . . . but not the wrong kind that feels like the explanation of a recipe!

Serve a Meal to the Guests

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

What if preaching were like hospitality – what would your guests experience?

Arriving at the door, slightly tentative about what may follow, they are rushed in and quickly seated.  No time for friendly interaction, there’s a meal to be eaten!  Before them the table is empty, but is continually filled as numerous covered serving dishes, pots and plates continually emerge from the kitchen.  In your zeal to feed them (and to show them everything you’ve done in preparation), you quickly uncover the first dish and serve a spoonful of carefully prepared french beans (the best result of your culinary efforts).  Then as they take their first taste of this fine cuisine you clear their plate, uncover another dish and serve some burned peas, swipe them off the plate and dish out an undercooked steak.  This continues with vegetables in various states of readiness, and an assortment of meats from a variety of animals (some familiar, some more exotic).  To break the intensity you also serve a big scoop of ice cream, before moving back to the main course again.  Your guests look bewildered at the experience, barely managing a bite before receiving more food and the odd sniff of a dessert.  Finally after forty minutes you pull away their plate and extend your hand for a firm handshake.  They smile cautiously and thank you for all your hard work before filing out of the front door.

I hope this wouldn’t be the case!  How much better to be welcomed and made comfortable?  How much more satisfying to enjoy the finest meal you could prepare and nothing more?  How much more comfortable to not have to experience every culinary idea you had and every cuisine cul-de-sac you entered in the last week as you planned and prepared the meal?  How much better to savour the meat chosen, rather than having a whistle-stop tour of all your favourite meats in your meat guide (concordance)?  How enjoyable to enjoy the side dishes and vegetables chosen to compliment the main meat of the meal?  How much better to partake of dessert when it is appropriate, rather than as a forced interlude in a manic meal?  How nice to have time to chew on the good food received?  How much better to receive a carefully prepared meal than an overwhelming force-fed food dump?  How nice to not have to come up with something polite to say at the door!

It can be a real blessing to be a guest for dinner.  It can be even better to be fed from the pulpit!

(Feel free to interpret this post in the comments, perhaps someone else missed what you observed!)

Final Preaching Lessons from a Low Budget Film

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I’ve stretched out the lessons I noted from watching a low budget film to three posts.  We’ve considered the importance of speech, the challenge of natural speech in unnatural circumstances (like preaching), the need for less important lines, and the importance of historical/cultural details in the telling of an historic story.  Two more lessons for us, one potentially overwhelming and one hopefully very encouraging!

5. The je ne sais quoi of engaging the audience. What makes the listener or viewer sit forward? What makes them sit back and ponder their blog? What makes a story riveting? What makes it pass you by without leaving much of a mark?  A good film captures your attention, engages your mind and heart, and makes a mark.  A poor film doesn’t.  It sits on the screen and generally remains at arms length.  Yet the difference between the two is often hard to define.  It’s the same with preaching.  It’s something about timing, and energy, and word choices, and details, and movement, and effective transitions.  It’s something about creating identification with what is presented, about the people being believable, about the story stirring the heart.  It’s as if you can get most details right, but one or two out of sync and the listener feels disengaged.  It’s hard to pin down, but on the positive side, it surely keeps us from resting on our laurels.  Surely it urges us to continue pursuing helpful feedback and to strengthen our preaching so that listeners might engage more fully.  Surely it urges us to pray more fervently and recognize that as preachers we cannot generate something in others that it may be God’s business to generate.

But that is discouraging.  Not being able to pin down a complete recipe for preaching.  Surely we’re all doomed?  None of us can get every element right all the time.  One final lesson:

6. There is good news – listeners know and engage anyway. I watched the film gladly, not negatively.  I knew the background story.  I knew why the film was low budget and I knew how little background the actors had.  So while I was not riveting as I might be by some higher budget films, I did choose to engage with the film, follow the plot, get the point, and I did appreciate it.  We need to remember that listeners are not film critics (even though some may give the impression of never being satisfied by anything served up on Sunday morning!)  Most listeners want their preacher to do well.  I have often taught preaching classes where students had to preach in English, even though it isn’t their first language.  I always try (probably unsuccessfully) to convince them that actually they have an advantage over mother-tongue English speakers: namely, the listeners respect the effort it takes and will listen more carefully and will want them to succeed even more!  If, like me, you are not a perfect preacher, thank God that most listeners know that and choose to engage with our sermons anyway!

More Preaching Lessons from a Low Budget Film

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Yesterday I posted a couple of observations made while watching a low budget film this Christmas.  Observations that demonstrate I was thinking about this blog while watching a film (which probably gives you opportunity to make an observation about me…)

While recognizing the difference between preaching and acting, I noted how actual speech is critical and how it is hard to be natural in an unnatural environment.  I’d like to add another speech related lesson, then point out a couple of other lessons that stood out to me.

3. Don’t try to make every line a humdinger. In a good film every word counts, but not every word is presented as if it is meant to count.  The film I watched seemed to try and make every line a memorable quote (but in effect became a bit tiresome rather than effective).  It might be a rare disease, but there are a few preachers who try to make every line count, even when they don’t.  Probably the more common problem is to waffle and say nothing of substance, but some do seem to say a lot of sentences as if they expect you to write them down and ponder deeply.  Perhaps you recognize this by the pregnant pause, the verbal selah, the look on the face, the rhythm and intonation.  But every line cannot be a humdinger, a home run, a knockout blow, a profound wisdom saying.

4. Historical and cultural details matter. Now to be fair, the film I watched did very well at this.  The history had been researched, the costumes and props were realistic, there was no helicopter flying in the background of a historical scene.  But there were a couple of tiny details.  Small ones, insignificant ones, but distracting ones once noticed.  And while the history was well researched, the accents weren’t.  Historical and cultural details can be a significant distraction to the “audience” both in a film, and in a sermon.

Actually, I’ll save the other two lessons for tomorrow.

Preaching Lessons From Low Budget Film

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Christmas season is good for eating too much chocolate, enjoying family time and watching the odd movie.  We watched an odd movie this year – it was a very low budget film produced by folks with little experience of making movies.  Actually it was impressive for who produced it, but it struck me that there are lessons to be learned from a low budget film.

In the next couple of days I’d like to share some lessons that stood out to me as I was watching the film, obviously recognizing that a film is a different thing to a sermon . . .

1. Actual speech is critical. Special effects, beautiful scenery, stunning vistas, impressive wardrobe and even decent plot do not make a movie work if the speech is lacking in some way.  The same is true of preaching – the best visual presentation, impressive powerpoint slides, stunning wardrobe and even a good sermon won’t really work if the actual speech feels wrong.

2. It’s hard to be natural in an unnatural environment. I know acting is acting and preaching isn’t acting.  However, both are unnatural environments.  The actor is dressed up as someone else, at another time, in a strange place pretending to be another place.  Unnatural.  The preacher is being stared at by a crowd of listeners who usually don’t talk back, with someone controlling the volume of the speakers, a microphone in front, etc.  Unnatural.  Perhaps the biggest challenge in these situations is to come across naturally.  Only when watching a low budget film do you realize how good the normal Hollywood crowd are.  Same with preachers.  Some command attention, others create a cringe.  I think natural presentation is critical, but it takes work, it takes prayer, and in some respects it may take what only God can give.

Tomorrow I’d like to share a couple more preaching lessons from this low budget film.