Stage 8 – Message Detail

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.

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 5

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So this post is really an extension of implication four in the series we have been considering on the impact of narrative in our preaching.  Much more could be said, but this will be the last in this specific series.  So to review implication number four:

4. When preaching “non-narrative” sections, consider how they are snapshots of a narrative. We saw how two genres are, by definition, largely narratival – both history and gospel (including parables, of course).  But what about the five “non-narrative” genres?

So a psalm was written by someone in response to God’s work, or in gratitude for a particular moment of deliverance, or in the tension of particular situation, either individual or corporate, or to guide others in the tensions of life.

Prophecy, as we know, is not all about foretelling the future, but often more about God’s heart being revealed in respect to the present.  Either way, narrative is there . . . either God’s response to the tensions and problems and reactions and dangers of the present, or God’s explanation of kingdom hope shining at the end of the current tunnel.

Wisdom literature is shot through with the tensions of a fallen world, with the challenges of human folly as we so easily pick foolish paths in the midst of the situations we face – glimpses into the story of humanity.

Apocalyptic, despite all the caveats and careful explanations that seem to overwhelm the text so often these days, is a revelation of reality, present or future, the unseen becoming seen, and it is shot through with narrative features – and then I saw, then he said, and then, and then, so the dragon waited, then the world celebrated, then the judge came, and then, and then.

Epistle, of course, is a snapshot into a narrative – that apostle’s attempt to bring the gospel to bear on the present situation of the recipients.  We have to look at the occasion that prompted the writing of the letter, and we need to look for any hints as to what transpired in response to it.  A glimpse into the narratives of life lived in a fallen world.

At some level there are aspects of narrative pervading every passage in the Bible.  How does our preaching reflect that?

 

Preaching and Story – Part 4

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

So we have been thinking this week about the role of the Bible story in our preaching.  We haven’t thought about how the individual stories relate to the big story as a whole, the redemption history, as it were.  Perhaps that would be worth a post at some point (actually I know it would because some preachers seem so eager to fit everything in its macro context that the particular text they claim to be preaching gets lost or somehow reworked so that the actual message of the text is lost in the mix . . . but that is for another day).  We have considered the importance of entering into the narrative, and trusting the narrative to offer more than illustration and introduction, and thinking through how to increase the impact of a narrative by retelling and revisiting it before moving on.  Now to the final implication in this series.  This weekend I should be returning from Asia and will be looking forward to seeing what comments have been sparked by this series!

4. When preaching “non-narrative” sections, consider how they are snapshots of a narrative. There are three main types of literature in the Bible, and about seven major genre.  One of the three types is narrative, the most common one, but still leaving two non-narrative types (poetry and discourse).  A couple of the genre are narrative (history and gospel, including parables), again with lots of page space, but also leaving five that are non-narrative (psalm, prophecy, wisdom, apocalyptic, epistle.)  But stop the bus for a minute!  Are these other types and genres non-narratival?  Aren’t poetry and discourse both snapshots into a narrative?  Discourse, be it epistle or speech, is given in the context of a narrative situation.  And it may be harder to accurately know the context that gave rise to a particular poem, but human nature leads us to wonder and often to reconstruct such a narrative (be careful not to then interpret a poem in light of a reconstructed narratival context, but why not tap into the emotional setting of a fallen world that sparks such poetry?)

I will extend this series by one post and tomorrow consider the five supposedly non-narratival genres to see how they are, in fact, more narrative-ish than we tend to think!

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 2

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

Yesterday we suggested that preaching on a Bible narrative should include more than just elements based on the story, but should actually tell the story.  Here’s another implication of the pervasive nature of narrative:

2. Don’t just enter the narrative as a means to an end, but see the entering in as a potential location of the “end.” That seems like a risky sentence, but I think it holds firm.  Too easily we feel that a story is, at best, an introduction to our pontifications, applications and morals.  But a well timed, well placed, well told story will often carry its own weight and do its own work.  The listeners will enter into it, they will find themselves in the world of the story, and they will feel the story in their world.  As they identify with the characters and feel the rising tension, as they see the tension resolved, as they feel the blessing of “their” character trusting God, or sense the emptiness of a character choosing the pain of sin, and so on, they will be impacted by the story, during the story.  God invented narrative, trusts narrative and so gave us loads of it in Scripture, knowing people would hear it and read it, and knowing that there wouldn’t always be the helpful explanation we sometimes feel God “needs” from people like us.  God knew what he was doing with the inspiration of narrative, perhaps our seeing story as effective communication in itself might be an act of faith that could bear fruit?  I am not anti-explanation or suggesting that storytelling replace preaching.  I am suggesting that in our preaching we don’t simply see narratives as illustration, or introductions to the “real stuff.”

It’s tempting to move on to the next implication, but perhaps it would be better to let this post linger longer.  Number three tomorrow.

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).

The Missing Connection

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Sometimes technically solid sermons seem to sputter and struggle.  It’s not unusual for a message to fall flat.  Why is that possible when the pieces are in place?

Content – We know the importance of having good content.  I tend to use the term “Biblical” when I am evaluating a message, others use the term “faithful.”  It’s a matter of content.

Clarity – We probably see it as a self-evident truth that for something to communicate it needs to make sense (although just believing it doesn’t make us automatically clear communicators).  A clear message clearly presented is a blessing to listeners.

Contemporaneity – Ok, so if I wasn’t enjoying my alliteration (might as well do it on here since I rarely alliterate in messages), I might prefer to speak of emphasising the relevance of the passage.  That is, helping listeners to hear what God is saying today, to us, through His Word.

Good content, clearly presented, with a contemporary sense of relevance.  What more could you want in a message?  How can messages with all three ingredients in place still fall flat?

I think there is a fourth ingredient that is often overlooked, frequently forgotten in the mix of making a message that ministers well:

Connection – Again if I weren’t in the mood for “C’s” I would probably call this being engaging.  It is something about the persona of the preacher, the energy, the relevance, the eye contact, the warmth, the humour, the manner of delivery, the feel and flow of the whole, the comfort or nerves of the speaker, and so much more.  It may be hard to pin down what makes it, but as a listener you can sense when it’s missing.

Let’s try to preach good content, clearly, with a contemporary focus.  But as well, let’s seek to connect.  After all, we are communicating for a communicating and relational God.  Preaching is a relational exercise.  And when connection is missing, preaching falls flat.