Homiletics

Sweetest Agony – 2

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Yesterday I considered the blessing of genuine encouragements received in preaching.  The best encouragement of all may not be the comments from others, but the observed life change in those fed by the Word.  But I also noted the need to record such encouragements, because there will be times when you encouragements drawer will offer much needed strength in the face of stone cold silence and apparent fruitlessness.

But there is more sweetness to preaching than just seeing lives changed.

If the sweetness is changed lives, then don’t miss the one life that hears every time you preach.  I don’t mean your spouse, although any encouragements there are worth so much.  I mean you.  Every time you or I prepare a sermon we are involved.  We go through the times of prayer, the valleys, the highs, the wrestling with the text, the grappling with the big idea, the prayerful cutting of material, the sermon run throughs for an audience of two (the Lord, and yourself).

A lot of this process may be agonizing.  Much of it can seem like thankless toil.  But there are good times too.  Times of sweet fellowship with the Lord.  Times of clarity in the exegesis of the text.  Times of blessing and encouragement.  Sweet times.  When these occur, perhaps find a way to mark them just like the thank-you notes we mentioned yesterday.  Perhaps an entry in a journal, or a note on your notice board, a visual memorial on a shelf . . . something to remind you of how good it can be, and will be again.

Preaching is agony much of the time, it has to be.  But it is a sweet privilege to see God at work in your life, and through you, in the lives of others.

The Sweetest Agony

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Since we are in the midst of packing up and leaving the US to return to the UK (we being a family of seven!), I have decided to re-post an expanded piece from almost five years ago.  Apologies if you’ve recently read through the whole site, but I suspect most people haven’t joined you in this quest!

Somebody said that preaching is the sweetest agony.  It is sweet when lives are changed.  And it is agony all the rest of the time!

There is nothing as rewarding as seeing lives changed.  Sometimes this can occur through a one-off sermon.  Typically it occurs over the long haul.  Sometimes it is hard to measure.  Sometimes you receive a note that overtly expresses gratitude for the change that has occurred.  Often you hear nothing.

Since preaching is often more agony than sweetness, it is a good idea to keep some reminders of the sweetness of lives changed.  A drawer where those periodic notes or letters are dropped in, then sit there awaiting a time when you need a reminder of the sweetness of the preaching ministry.  A folder in your email entitled “Encouragements” that you can go back to when the inbox is overwhelming and discouraging.

I have written before of how we shouldn’t be overly encouraged by post-sermon politeness, but we should take note of feedback that comes after some time has passed.  After a sermon, people will usually be polite, and sometimes their politeness can stretch your confidence in their credibility!  I’ve seen genuinely poor preachers pressing on in the face of polite comments, as though these words are the very affirmation of gifting for which they had prayed.  But when someone comes to you months later with meaningful follow-up to a message, do take note.

In fact, make a note and stick it in your encouragements drawer.  There will be a time when you need it!

Tomorrow I’ll probe some of the other sweetnesses of the preaching ministry.

Neither Padded, Nor Dense – 4

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I don’t normally use the movie analogy, but perhaps I could linger with it slightly longer.  A good movie does not pad the main plot, nor does it make it impossibly dense.  In fact, every good movie can be boiled down to something more precise than a ten-minute plot.  It will have one main idea.  And that idea is driven home by the plot and every detail throughout.

I actually watched a movie in the cinema this week (I can’t remember the last time I did that!)  One crystal clear main idea, effectively communicated with every detail included to support it.

Robinson uses the analogy of the arrow and the target – the big idea and the sermon purpose.  I like that.  I add to that the strategy of the preacher.  How is the main idea  to be delivered?  Will it be up-front and repeated throughout?  Will it be built toward and revealed strategically?  There are several approaches.

However the bigger issue is not how it will be delivered, but whether it will be the control mechanism for the whole message.

If the biblical text determines the main idea, and if the main idea is the gatekeeper for every detail of the message, then the message should not be padded, nor dense.

It will not be a padded sermon because every element will be there on purpose.  The explanations will be there to help communicate the main idea.  The proofs will be there to reinforce and support the main idea.  The applications will be there to drive home the main idea.  There won’t be padding because padding makes no sense in a message designed to communicate a main idea.

And it will not be a dense sermon because over packing makes no sense when the goal is the effective applied communication of the main idea.  Over packing only makes sense if the goal is something else.  If we want to show off, we may over pack.  If we want to communicate multiple ideas, we will over pack.  But if our desire is to see the main idea do its job, then we won’t want anything to get in the way of that.

Neither Padded, Nor Dense – 3

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Yesterday I began a list.  The goal is to preach sermons that are not only heard, but also felt.  The first point was to recognize that cramming in information will squeeze out feeling.  Furthermore:

2. Take the time to let images form.  Whether you are explaining the context, making sense of the text, telling the story, or even illustrating a point, let the images form.  Imagine that inside your listeners there is a screen.  That screen is covered by smoke.  Quick propositions and statements won’t register on that screen.  It takes good description and a bit of time for the images to form there.  But once those images form, once people can see what you are saying, then something powerful starts to happen.  They empathise with characters.  They experience the plot.  They begin to feel.  And once they feel, then the truth being preached is a truth experienced, a truth driven deep.  It goes beyond cognition.  Truth felt tends to lead to lives changed.

3. Develop the skill of painting with words.  I mentioned this in passing, but it is worthy of its own point.  We need to develop our ability to describe.  Stories need to be effectively told, poems need to be carefully described, contexts of letters need to be engagingly presented.  Wherever we are in the Bible, we need to keep growing in our ability to describe effectively, vividly and engagingly.  Vocabulary matters.  Pace matters.  Expression matters.  I can describe something with 100% accurate facts, but leave you completely underwhelmed.  A good preacher can describe something so that you feel like you see it.

4. Find the balance between time/pace and content.  This is the challenge.  Every element of a message could potentially benefit from more time and slower pace.  But there is a balance to be found.  It is like the movie maker situation we pondered earlier in the week.  Too much time, too slow a development, too drawn out a scene, and the momentum is lost.  Too fast, too much information and too rapid a transition and the viewers are left behind.

The difference between a summary and the real deal should not be padding, and it can’t be just information crammed in.  There has to be careful planning to engage not only the heads of the listeners, but also their hearts.

Neither Padded, Nor Dense – 2

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When information is crammed in, it is not just information that will be lost.  For example, I used to have a laptop that allowed me to watch DVD’s in normal speed and 1.2x, 1.4x and 2x, and all without losing sound.  This was great.  It meant I could watch a 40 minute episode of some crime drama or other in less than 30 minutes.  I saw everything.  I heard everything.  But something was different.

The faster transfer of information somehow meant that while I could follow the story and get the details, I didn’t feel it.  That tense moment when the detective entered the abandoned warehouse, gun drawn, eyes wide . . . it wasn’t tense.  That shocking moment when the body was found, well it wasn’t really shocking.   All of the emotion seemed to be drained by amping up the content transfer density.

So back to preaching.  What is our goal?  Is it to transfer information as efficiently as possible?  I was reading about Jonathan Edwards and his preaching style.  He wasn’t flamboyant and flashy like his contemporary, George Whitefield.  Edwards had a quiet intensity.  His goal wasn’t just that people learn, or even that they act on what they heard.  He wanted them to feel the truth of the doctrine being presented.

But does the Bible intend to be felt?  Or is it just information transfer?  It seems to me that every genre incarnates truth in the non-vacuum of reality.  Narratives, poems, prophecies, letters, etc., are all theological truth wrapped up in human experience and story and description.  It seems as if the Bible wasn’t given as an inspired collection of abstract truths, but as theology in concrete.

So how do we preach sermons to be felt?  This is a question worth pondering.  Here are some suggestions:

1. Recognize that cramming in information squeezes out feeling.  I am not reducing the value of information.  Hopefully our exegetical work generates great information.  But putting too much information in the sermon will not only make it harder for people to take any of it in.  It will also mean they don’t feel the truth of it.  We are not in a race to speak all truth as exhaustively and as rapidly as possible.  We need to grow in our ability to be selective.  Every time we preach we will not be exhaustive.  There will always be more good information that could be said.  But there has to be a balancing of content density with other factors for maximum effectiveness.

More tomorrow…

Neither Padded, Nor Dense

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It takes more than a good story, good actors and good visual effects to make a hit movie.  Think of a movie you particularly liked.  In most cases that movie could have been made in the form of a 10-minute featurette.  It would have been a whole lot cheaper to make, but it never would have made any money.  Why is that?

What is the difference between a 10-minute featurette and a full two-hour blockbuster?  The answer is not padding.  It is almost the opposite.  It is careful development of characters and scenes, giving space for the audience to grow into the plot.  But it is also numerous scenes cut and omitted to keep the flow from being too dense or too long.  All padding is typically cut out, but room to breathe is carefully included.

The same is true of good preaching.  You could take a decent sermon and hammer out the bottom line in a 10-minute sermonette.  You could include the main idea, the outline, etc., but you’d be missing a lot.  And the difference between that and a fuller version of the same sermon shouldn’t be 20-30 minutes of padding, nor should it be 20-30 minutes of dense information.

It is only the beginning preacher that wonders how they will fill the time.  Experienced preachers know the real challenge is in what to leave out.

This week I was speaking with a good friend who has trouble keeping his sermons from becoming overwhelming monsters of content.  All good stuff, but too much to take in for the listener.  We spoke of the main idea and its role in sermon development.  And we also pondered the possibilities of having a three step process.  First, define the main idea.  Second, work out a 10-minute development of that idea.  Third, move up to the full length.

So, how to go from the 10-minute to the full message?  The temptation here is to cram in the information.  But when information is crammed in, then there is a real problem for the listeners.  Actually, there are several problems:

1. They will have to be selective in what they take in.  It isn’t possible to grasp everything when there is too much.  Do you want listeners to pick and choose, or to be gripped by the whole?

2. They may select elements as take home material that was incidental in your eyes.  For instance, the passing remark, the humourous illustration, or the side point, could all become their memorable take home gem.

3. They may check out altogether if it is overwhelming.  While some may selectively choose highlights, others will switch to something their mind is motivated to cope with: their plans for the afternoon, their challenges at work, etc.

4. Their hearts are unlikely to engage.  This one suddenly takes us to a whole new level.  Not only is the issue with their ability to mentally grasp information, there is an issue with their experience of that information.

Tomorrow we’ll probe this fourth point some more.

Narrative Lived

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Why did God give the majority of His Word in the form of narrative?  I suspect part of the answer lies in the incarnational nature of narrative.  It is theology fleshed out in concrete.  Real lives, real situations, real challenges, real responses.  Narrative engages us, and that is exactly the way God would have it.  Why?  Because He seeks to engage us.

So as I am studying a couple of narratives for forthcoming messages, I am struck by how my life this week has been a sequence of micro-narratives, within the larger narrative of my year, within the macro-narrative of many lives intersecting, within the supra-narrative of God’s history.  Just like we see in the Bible, the world is a stage where lives live in response to each other and to God.  Some trust Him, others trust self.  Some live out love for God, others live out love for self.

I suppose most, if not all, of the story lived out this week will be consigned to unrequested history books in the annals of heaven’s library.  Most of each Bible character’s life was not the action snippet that we see in children’s bible story books.  I was talking with my children this week about how the Bible characters were full people, not just caricatures.  There was much more to Noah than a beard and a saw.  Full lives, full characters, full stories.  Most not getting into the book, but all of it mattering profoundly.

Which makes me stop and think as I head into another Sunday: what kind of character am I in God’s great story?  The Bible proves it isn’t about brains, or beauty, or brawn.  The Bible points to heart response to God’s Word, which then spills out in every aspect of life.

In the visual silence of an unseen God, how does my life live out its response to His Word?

People speak of the great tapestry of history.  My life is just a thread in that whole work of art.  This week is probably only a micro-fibre.  But it counts.  It is coloured.  And in all the complexity of biblical narrative we see every shade of colour, and yet everything seems to boil down to love or hate, trust or self-reliance, faith or fear.

Let’s be sure God’s Word is marking our lives as we seek to help others be marked by it in the coming weekend.

Preparing to Preach OT Narrative – 5

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This week I have been getting my head and heart in gear to prepare messages from the book of Ruth.  I’ve pondered issues of contextual unawareness, perceived irrelevance and the challenges of application.  I am not saying any of this should come before issues of study and interpretation, but before the messages can be prepared, these issues have to be faced.  I’d like to raise one more issue:

What is my strategy for preaching through the book?I have four sessions to preach through Ruth.  Slam dunk, decision made, right?  Four weeks, four chapters.  Voila!  Perhaps.  But I’m not a fan of instant obvious decisions.  I want to think through it first.

1. Preaching a narrative means preaching multiple scenes, not multiple chapters.  It may be that there are four scenes in four chapters, but I need to check that first.  Going with chapter breaks is lazy and sometimes naive.

2. How do I keep the unity in mind?  Ruth wasn’t written to be read over four sittings in four weeks.  It was written to be heard in one sweep.  I have to ponder that.  Should I preach the whole narrative in one go?  I could do that week 1, but then what?  I could take three weeks to revisit the text and zero in on specific aspects of the story.  Or I could review the whole narrative at the end.  Or I could let it build week by week, as if people don’t know what is coming.

3. And what about other options given by four weeks?  Maybe I need to take a week on the opening verses and engage the complexity of divine providence, suffering and life as experienced by most people.  Perhaps there are a couple of chapters that could flow together.  Perhaps the ending that points forward to David is worthy of a wrap-up message on its own.  So many options.

Simply splitting it into four roughly equal chunks with a big number at the start does seem a bit too hasty at this point.  I need to spend some more time in the text of Ruth, and be prayerfully considering what would be most helpful to our congregation.

Preparing to Preach OT Narrative – 4

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So I am preparing to preach Ruth.  I know that all preachers are tempted to overcome the perceived lack of relevance by multiplying applications from the details of the story.  Yesterday I suggested that the details are there for the sake of the plot, rather than as automatic teaching points. But there is more to be said on this matter of applying the text.

Furthermore, (2) I have to remember that narratives were not given to us merely to instruct our conduct.  It is not just conduct that matters in facing the horrors life can throw at us (Ruth 1), it is also truths applied at the level of personal belief, and even affection.  Ruth didn’t cling to Naomi, and give up everything to go with her, based on knowledge of “the right things to do in this situation.”  She did it all because of the God that had gripped her heart.

I don’t want my listeners to have lists of behavioural applications, but untouched hearts.  That would make a mockery of the force of Ruth.  Relevance doesn’t have to be just a to-do list.  Relevance is more to do with the impact of the text on the heart of the listener so that they leave the service as a changed person.

Finally (although not definitively), (3) I need to recognize that the relevance in the text is not on a merely human level.  It is tempting to look at people interacting with people and consider applications that can come straight over into our seen world.  But all biblical narratives are about the seen intersecting with the unseen.  There is a God alive and yet often not seen.  The narrative is about lives lived under the constant question of trust or non-trust in the Word of God.  If my listeners finish with great insight into an ancient narrative, but without a greater sense of God (both then and now), then I have failed to be truly relevant.

Tomorrow I’ll ponder another practical issue in preparation…