Stage 8 – Message Detail

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!

Feel the Force: Poetry

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When we preach poetry, do our listeners really feel the force of it?  Poetry is found in the Psalms and wisdom literature, of course, but also in the historical books and the prophets too.  All too easily we can preach to the head, but not move the listeners with the force of the text.

A couple of thoughts on this:

1. Word images may not carry instant force, so we should build it. For example, when the Psalms speak of the heavens, the stars, the sun and moon, etc., there is a big difference between most listeners today and the original hearers of the text.  They lived under the stars.  Once the sun went down the rhythm of life changed and stargazing was as normal as TV gazing is for some today.  So a brief reference to how amazing it is to look at the stars and feel so small (as in Psalm 8 ) will simply not move contemporary listeners like the original reference would have done.  Today we have to build an awareness of our smallness (thankfully we have NASA and the Hubble telescope to help generate a sense of smallness!)

2. The structure of a poem, the shift in content, may not be apparent to our listeners, so we should clarify and demonstrate it. If the poem was read carefully straight through, the discerning reader would probably pick up on the transition that occurs.  The problem with preaching though is that the extra words may obscure the transitions instead of clarifying them.  There is a major transition at the mid-point of Psalm 73.  Yet if the preacher is droning in their voice, or simply moving methodically through a series of points, that dramatic transition may easily be missed.

3. Emotive language can so easily be made informational. As I’ve probably written elsewhere on this site, it is so easy to dissect a frog to learn how it jumps, but in doing so we stop it doing so.  A dissected poem is not enough for effective preaching.

People listening need to feel the force of poetry so that it can mark their lives deeply, as God intends.

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.

Facebook in Sermon Preparation

/ Peter Mead / 6 Comments

James Wood made the following comment on the post Extent of Application:

I think he brings up a good point. I’ve tried to combat this by forming the sermon through conversation with the community. The beauty is, technology can aid this! I will post questions from the text to my facebook page as I’m studying. The responses help me to direct my study and hone my examples to reflect the needs of the community.

I have not tried this, but am intrigued.  While not a huge fan of facebook, it may be an easy way to access “feed-forward” input in the preparation of a sermon.  The point of “feed-forward” input is to be able to hone a message in advance of it being preached by gaining input from an individual or group during the preparation process.  (Obviously it is kind of like feedback, but in anticipation.)

Has anyone else tried using Facebook or Twitter or even good old fashioned email for input prior to preaching?  There is something about face to face interaction, but let’s be honest and recognize that something is better than nothing and unless we have a system in place, we are often choosing nothing over something in these matters.  At the same time, perhaps people feel less pressure in an electronic social setting and are therefore more willing to engage honestly?

Any thoughts or experience on this, please share!

The Forming of Images

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

Another quote from Flickering Pixels by Shane Hipps, prompting a thought for today:

Advertising is the direct result of the camera.  “Images have an incredible capacity to generate needs in humans that don’t naturally exist.” (75)  “Images initially make us feel rather than think.”  “Images don’t invite you to argue; they give you an experience.” (76) “Image culture dramatically shapes the way we think.  It also determines what we think about.” (77)

It would be wrong to assume that such an image culture has only existed in our part of the world in recent years.  The reality is that the non-image, linear logical culture is largely a recent and localized phenomenon.  Perhaps the difference now is that we are an image saturated culture with pixels flickering constantly.  Everywhere else, for most of time, there has been a constancy of image formed through the familiar narratives that defined each culture.

That’s the thing about narrative.  It forms an image in the hearer that doesn’t require multi-million dollar Hollywood camera work.  Good storytelling forms images in minds and hearts just as effectively.  In the early days of radio it was the story and soap opera shows that proved popular, not just information driven shows.  Ask a child if they are willing to hear a good story without any pictures to supplement it and they will usually cope just fine!  (In fact, some children would give anything to have a parent who would read to them at all!)

The Bible is saturated with stories.  The Bible also has a meta-narrative that gives us a sense of security, stability and insight into the reality in which we continue to live.  As preachers our task is not to simply provide good argumentation, effective applicational lists or biblical facts.  Our task is primarily one of forming images in the hearts and minds of listeners that will stir faith through the experience of already seeing God work during our preaching.  Our task is to form images so that listeners can respond appropriately to God’s self-giving through His Word – not in any way a mere mental decision, but a heart-driven response to a heart-stirring God.

Preacher, form images!

Finding the Balance Without Scratching Ears

/ Peter Mead / Leave a comment

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!

Fresh Preaching

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

I just stumbled across a quote that brought a wry smile.  I don’t agree with it fully, but it is worth considering.  The chapter is written by Carl George, although he doesn’t cite the source for the quote he includes:

“Almost all ministers are well educated theologically.  Most seminary graduates have more to teach than anybody wants to learn.  If we spend any time at all preparing for a given sermon, we will meet the needs of the listeners.  As Dan Baumann, author of a widely used preaching textbook, says, ‘Anyone who simply sets forth the text and gives its meaning distinctly will be accused of freshness.'”

Now I don’t want to make too much of the “almost all ministers are well educated theologically” statement.  To do so would mean pointing out that this is probably a uniquely North American phenomenon.  I might be tempted to point to the largest denomination in one African country I heard about, in which only four pastors have any college level education, and none of whom have any seminary training.

I agree that most seminary graduates have more to teach than anybody wants to learn.  But what about “If we spend any time at all preparing for a given sermon, we will meet the needs of the listeners.” Surely that should be “perceived needs” of the listeners?

And then there’s that final sentence.  “Anyone who simply sets forth the text and gives its meaning distinctly will be accused of freshness.”

How true.  How sad.

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!