Stage 7 – Message Outline

Monological Q and A

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

My last post on Friday sparked a few comments regarding the possibilities of Q&A with congregations.  There is certainly more to be said for that.  I read an article by a friend wrestling with the biblical tension (for want of a better word), between the need for authoritative presentation of truth (preacher as herald), and the need for engaged relational disciple-making (conversational, relational, mentoring ministry).  We lose so much if we give up one for the other.

While you may want to continue that discussion, and I will return to it at some point, I’d like to address a related matter.  The preacher in a traditional preaching setting still needs to make listeners feel involved.  Pure monologue that leaves listeners feeling like observers of a pre-packaged presentation is less than what it could be.  How can we preach so listeners feel engaged and involved?  A few of many possibilities:

1. Relevant preaching – I suppose this is obvious, but listeners will engage more when a message is relevant to their lives.  That doesn’t mean a heavenly majestic text is trivialised to a silly practical level.  It does mean that the preacher has thought about how the text is relevant to these listeners on this occasion.  The world of the text is earthed in the realities of life.  Then listeners feel involved.

2. Rhetorical questions – Too many can start to sound false, but a well placed rhetorical question only expresses what the listener is thinking.  Their inner dialogue follows right along with the preacher, “yes, I just thought that, here’s my answer, what does the text say to me now?”  That inner dialogue requires skill from the preacher, but it turns monologue into something far richer.

3. Related to life wording – It’s not hard to change the wording of the main idea, and the main points, from historical description of the text (commentary title approach to outlining), to related to us wording (contemporary full sentence statements approach).  Obviously you go back to the text to support what you’re saying, but it drives the message into today, rather than simply offering an historical lecture followed by an applicational team talk in the final moments.

I’ll add three more suggestions tomorrow.  Feel free to pre-empt or offer your insight.

Too Obvious To State?

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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.

Going Deeper Than Instruction

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

In a lot of preaching situations it is easier to simply present the text and press home the imperatives.  Whether or not there is technically an imperative in the grammar, we can easily turn a passage into an instruction and press for change through our words.

I wonder how often we miss the opportunity to go a step or two deeper and recognize the “why” behind the “should”?  Typically the epistles offer lists of instructions, but in the context of the letter, these instructions are very much set in the context of theological truth.  We are to present our bodies as living sacrifices, but it is in view of God’s mercies that we are to do so.  We are to walk in a manner worthy, but specifically it’s in a manner worthy of the calling we have received.  We are to set our hearts on things above, where Christ is, but this is in light of the Christ presented in the first two chapters.

Instruction and imperative don’t just sit on their own as burdens to place on people, but as appropriate response to the captivating truths of who God is, what He has done and so on.

As a preacher it is much easier to simply give instruction and apply pressure, but we must consider how to make sense of those instructions so that instead of pressured compliance, we might see captivated response.

Preacher’s Block

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Years ago I read Heralds of God by James Stewart.  I just read a response paper sent to me by a friend.  It’s time I read the book again. He reminded me of Stewart’s advice regarding preacher’s block, or those times when artistic inspiration simply is not flowing, but discouragement is pouring in like a flood.

It is too easy to listen to our moods.  It is too simple to await the great thoughts before we begin.  Stewart quotes Quiller-Couch, “These crests [of inspiration] only arise on the back of constant labour.”  How true it is that moments of inspiration tend to reflect hours of perspiration.

I have a lot of preparation to do this week.  How easy it is to allow the flesh to control the process and wile away the hours with relatively meaningless tasks while awaiting some flash of divine enablement.  Can I trust the Lord to enable me as I graft at the preparation?  Bend the knee and pray.  Pick up the book and read.  Take up the pen and write.  Stretch out the fingers and type.  Simple really, but how easy to justify another path.

Application Is Not Always Last

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Traditionally preaching means reading a text, explaining it at length and then eventually fitting in a block of application if time permits.  Practically that is rarely the best approach.  If emphasizing the relevance of the text is as much a part of our task as explaining the text (but necessarily requiring the explanation in order to have any authority), then we need to think about how to increase the sense of relevance in our preaching.  A few thoughts:

1. By explaining as much as necessary, but not over-explaining, we create time for application. It is tempting to try to present all the proof of our study, every nugget, whenever we preach.  It takes a commitment to application to only explain as much as necessary and use the rest of the time to target emphasizing the relevance to our listeners.

2. By stating our points and main idea in “us” terms, we drive relevance to the surface (and drive it deeper into the listeners). It doesn’t take much to state the point in relevant terms, then step back into the world of the text to explain and support that wording, following up again with an emphasis on relevance.  Instead of sounding like we’re preaching a commentary, instead we can sound like we’re speaking directly to our listeners.

3. If the main idea is the take home truth, why wouldn’t we try to put it in “us” terms? It may not always work, but often the main idea of the message can be stated relevantly, rather than historically or in abstract form.  This is the synopsis of the whole that we really want seared into the lives of our listeners.

4. Introduce relevance in the introduction. Don’t presume people are desperate for a sermon on 2nd Chronicles 13.  They probably didn’t come with that on their minds.  So use the introduction to demonstrate the relevance of the passage, the message, the speaker.

5. Even in explanation, season with relevance. It doesn’t take much time to drop in comments relating the back then to today.  Even the briefest of comparisons in the telling of an ancient narrative can shed contemporary light and give the sense of relevance to the listeners.

Application logically comes last in a message.  But if our goal is effective preaching, we’ll look for ways to integrate applicaton (in its various forms) and relevance throughout the message.

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!

Finding the Balance Without Scratching Ears

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As a preacher in a church there is a tension to be faced.  On the one hand, every time you stand up front to preach you are answerable to God for your stewardship of the opportunity.  Consequently you must feel a sense of the burden of preaching what is needed and what is right for the people.  Like parents with a child, sometimes it is necessary to give a certain medicine.  It’s not a time to make decisions based on what the child would prefer in that moment.

On the other hand we have to hear what listeners say.  Preaching is communication, and if the recipient does not receive what the sender intended, then something is not working.  It may be that they are hard hearted or don’t know what they need, but on the other hand, we preachers aren’t immune from error either.  Perhaps we haven’t realized that our communication is failing to communicate, that our message is not comprehensible, or our application is not connecting.  Perhaps we need to hear some feedback that could help us be better preachers.

I firmly believe in the preacher’s answerability to God and in the preacher’s need for feedback.  These two things are not mutually exclusive, but there may be times when a balance is needed.  It’s always easier to label others and stand secure in our own insecurity, but let’s be sure that critique of our preaching is not actually a legitimate cry for something that we could do better, that they would value more and that God would actually be pleased with!

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!)