After You Finish

In the past couple of days we’ve pondered the art of sermon-stopping.  We have thought about weak finishes, and then about the elements in finishing strong.  It certainly is not easy to get the plane down comfortably and effectively.  Now a few thoughts relating to the post-landing phase of the journey.  I suppose that could apply to taxiing (i.e. don’t overdo what you say after you’ve essentially finished).  Actually I’m thinking about what comes after the landing in respect to post-sermon service elements.  (Tomorrow I’ll push this analogy further – perhaps beyond acceptable limits! – and consider what happens when people leave the plane completely – i.e. when the service is fully finished.)

So, after the sermon is over, but still within the confines of the service:

Sometimes it is helpful to have another person wrap things up, sometimes it can be disastrous (I can’t help but think of the “helpful” MC who undoes the impact of a global missions thrust with the typical and deeply annoying “and we can all be missionaries right where we are!” . . . thankfully no-one added that to the end of Matthew’s gospel or we’d never have read the New Testament!)

Sometimes it is helpful to have a closing song, sometimes it is helpful to have a whole set of responsive songs, and sometimes it is better not to allow the singing of a song to help people switch back into their “real world” and leave the sermon behind.

Sometimes its helpful to leave space for silent response, sometimes that is just plain uncomfortable and overkill.

Sometimes quiet music played after can help the contemplative mood, sometimes music blasting out after the meeting can switch people into a frenzied chaos of raised voice fellowship (and the journey is forgotten, I fear!)

That last one is technically post-service . . . which leads me into tomorrow’s post . . .

Finishing Strong

Yesterday I offered five examples of how to finish weakly as your sermon finishes weekly.  Let’s ponder what makes a conclusion strong:

Elements required in a conclusion – sometimes it is helpful to review the flow of the message, usually it is worth reviewing the main idea and intended applications of the message.  The conclusion is a great opportunity to encourage response to and application of the message.  The conclusion has to include, at some point, the phenomena known as stopping.  Review, encourage, stop.

Elements not required in a conclusion – standard teaching it may be, but worth mentioning nonetheless: generally it is not helpful to introduce new information during the conclusion.  A concluding story?  Maybe that’s ok.  But don’t suddenly throw in a new piece of exegetical insight into the preaching passage, or rush off to another passage for one last bit of sight-seeing.

Finishing the journey – as someone who has flown once or twice, let me continue with the airplane analogy since there are several thoughts that can be shared here.  Passengers who have had a great journey with a bad landing will leave with their focus entirely on the bad landing.  Passengers want the pilot to know where he is going and to take them straight there.  They don’t particularly want the pilot to finish a normal journey with a historic televised adrenaline landing.  Passengers like a smooth landing, but they’ll generally take a slight bump over repeated attempts to find the perfect one.  Once landed, extended taxi-ing is not appreciated.  A good landing that takes you by surprise always seems to have a pleasant effect.

Haddon’s Runway – one approach that I particularly appreciate and find hard to emulate, is Haddon Robinson’s oft-used approach.  It is evident after most Haddon sermons that he carefully planned his final sentence.  He flies the plane until he gets there and then quite naturally the plane lands on that landing strip of just ten to fifteen words and the journey is over.  Smooth, apparently effortless, immensely effective.  As he teaches in class, much better to finish two sentences before listeners think you should than two sentences after!

Tomorrow we’ll consider the post-sermon elements of the service, since these also have an effect on the journey.

Finishing Weak – Part 2

Yesterday I started a series of four posts on sermon conclusions with a list of weak finishes.  Mike Doyle added a comment with several more examples that were so helpful I decided to include them today and make this a five-part series. I hope nobody minds two negative lists in a row (if you simply invert what is said in these lists, you already have two positive lists in respect to sermon conclusions!)

6. The “Machine Gun” Finish – wildly fire off a hundred different applications in the final minute in the hope of hitting something – no depth, very shallow, badly aimed, rarely hits the target, and often has nothing to do with the passage.

7. The “Salvation by Works” Finish – after preaching the wonders of God’s grace in Jesus Christ – undermine that grace by throwing doubt on the their own salvation because of their sin or not doing the application you suggest.

8. The “Left Field” Finish – where the conclusion and/or application has very little to do with the passage, your sermon, or anything else.

9. The “Not Again” Finish – where (for some funny reason) the conclusion is the same as every other conclusion you’ve given for the last 3 years – it also happens to be your hobby horse, and is often one of pray more, give more, evangelise more, read the bible more and come to church more.

Thanks, Mike, for adding these to the list – very helpful!

If I could just add some more to the growing list, what about…

10. The “Gospel out of Nowhere” Finish – where the preacher feels the absence of the gospel in the message and so levers it in at the conclusion without any sense of connection to what has gone before.  (To a thinking listener, this may feel a little forced and intellectually inconsistent.)

11. The “Tear Jerker” Finish – which is similar to the “overly climactic” one listed yesterday, but this is where the speaker seeks to cement emotional response by throwing in a random and largely disconnected tear jerker of a story (perhaps involving a child, an animal, a death, or whatever).  Strapped to this emotional bomb, the preacher hopes the truth of the message will strike home (even though in reality the truth will probably be smothered in the disconnected emotion of the anecdote).

Book Give-Away

I thought you might like to know that over on the Cor Deo site, we are giving away three copies of Experiencing the Trinity by Darrell Johnson.  It’s an invitation to join us as we read this book together.  Three recipients will be selected at random, but we ask two favours in order to qualify:

1. Please comment on any Cor Deo blog post during November (preferably something helpful to the conversation, of course)

2. Please share the link below on facebook, twitter, or via email with a few friends (whatever channel you have that will get the word out to folks including some in the UK)

Here’s the link to include (to go there now, just click on the picture above) – http://www.cordeo.org.uk/book-intro-experiencing-the-trinity/

Finishing Weak

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

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

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 . . .

Measurable

If we preach with a clear and specific goal for each sermon, then the issue of measurability comes onto the agenda.  That is, can we measure the effectiveness of the sermon?

On one side of the discussion are those thoughts that say we should “put our big boy pants on” (phrase heard in a podcast from the US yesterday . . . so if you’re English, think trousers), we should be big enough to face up to the reality of our effectiveness.  How many of us resist any notion of measuring effectiveness with spiritual sounding arguments when really the issue is our fear that we are simply not hitting the mark?

On the other side of this discussion is the legitimate spiritual thought that actually preaching is not a sales exercise that can be measured with surveys and numbers, but is our participation in the work of the Spirit and we have to live with the ambiguity of not knowing whether our ministry is in vain or not as far as individuals are concerned.

I had a brief discussion with a chap at a preaching seminar on Sunday who was saying how “productivity indicators” have impaired, hampered and downright killed productivity in industry on so many occasions.  While I don’t have his experience of industry, I do have some thoughts on preaching ministry.  Some applications are inclined toward measurability.  These would be the conduct applications – it may be possible and enlightening to discover if people have done what you suggested.  But other applications are harder to measure.  How can we find out whether our message has influenced the beliefs and thought patterns of our listeners?  How can we find out whether our message has marked the affections and values of our listeners?

Perhaps for most of us who don’t have the staff or structures in place to do any real measuring, perhaps we would just do well to remember that God knows the effectiveness of each message and so preach as if every sermon’s effect is logged in heaven.  Maybe that would spur us on to actually preach for response, rather than hiding behind the fact that any ineptitude won’t be revealed by a survey.

And maybe it is helpful to bring into play another helpful analogy.  I can’t measure the increase in health after each meal we feed our children.  Did those vegetables make a difference?  What about that bit of coconut oil?  And that salad?  Can’t be measured after each meal.  But we know it will make a difference long-term.  Isn’t that true of biblical preaching?  Over the passing of years, surely a healthy diet will make a significant difference.  Now let’s preach as if our effectiveness can be measured each week, but trust that it will take hold over the long haul!