Expository Preaching

A Point on Points

/ Peter Mead / Leave a comment

As you outline your message you will probably have some points.  My suggestion is to write full sentences that are applicationally/relevantly focused on the listeners (rather than historical/biblical summary statements).

But, you may say, I like to preach the point inductively and arrive at the application toward the end of the point.  Of course, that is the normal approach.  My suggestion should not therefore be dismissed.  Why?

1. Because a brief taste of relevance early in the point will increase the listener’s motivation to listen. You can quickly go back to the text and develop things from there, ending up with a more focused applicational element.  Just like in a message, though, if your point starts historical and takes a while to feel relevant, listeners may not be with you once you get there.

2. Because what you write as your point in your outline does not have to be stated at that point in the message. It is a common fallacy that a sermon has to follow its outline so that every line is said in order.  The “point” can be the target toward which that section of the message progresses.  The advantage of this approach is that you preach with a purpose, rather than starting with a historical summary statement and then expanding that, eventually moving on to the next point after a token attempt at applying the text (sometimes not fully thought through).  In a sense, then, your outline point is your fully thought through main idea of that section of the text.  Whether you state that at the outset, or later on, is up to you (perhaps you can choose a marker in your notes to indicate that this shouldn’t be stated up-front).

3. Because the commentary-like summary statement is lacking on several fronts. As I already stated, it leaves you open to fading away before you arrive at the point of connection between the world of the Bible and the world of your listeners (you may not effectively build the bridge).  Furthermore, a commentary-like summary, or a pithy alliterated heading, is not typically a complete thought.  Better to plan a full sentence since thought is transferred by the speaking of ideas, requiring full sentences.  To preach with sub-headings sounds like a read outline and requires the listener to fill in the rest of the thought.  Generally it is not wise to trust the listener to fill in much of anything in a message (not because of their lack of ability, but because you may not have fully gripped their focus so that they desperately want to do part of your job for you!)

Full sentence, relevant points will make your outlines stronger.  They may not make the best 200 word Christian newspaper outlines, but remember, your goal is to preach a sermon.  Let your editor turn it into written language before you go to print, don’t make your listeners translate in order to understand!

Expository Preaching – Showcasing What?

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I am strongly committed to expository preaching.  But a lot of what is called expository seems to fall short.  For many it seems to have become an exegetical showcase, or a structural/creativity showcase, or a prideful showcase of arrogant orthopraxy.

Exegetical Showcase. For many, expository preaching is essentially to be equated with effective outlining of a text to demonstrate the skill of the preacher in accurate exegesis.  Actually, I hesitate to say skill in accurate exegesis, because often outlining of texts seems to lead to a message other than the text’s message – perhaps a show of doctrinal orthodoxy, or an exercise in structural balancing.  Nevertheless, for many, expository preaching has become an opportunity to show the fruit of their exegetical labour as if that were an end in itself.  Be accurate, please, but don’t think that accurate presentation of a text is expository preaching.

Structural / Creativity Showcase. I hinted at this above.  This is where the sermon is an opportunity to demonstrate the ability of the speaker to create a balanced, parallel, aurally or visually appealing and supposedly memorable outline based on a text.  There tends to be a value placed on tripartite structuring and balanced insertions of “illustrative” materials.  The connections to expository sermonic expectations are clear on many levels, but the connections to the text can be strenuous at times.  This isn’t what expository preaching is about – this is a culturally defined expectation trained into listeners (and yielding very affirming feedback!)

Arrogant Orthopraxy Showcase. I suppose this is tied to the previous point.  This is where the preacher is concerned, perhaps subconsciously, to demonstrate that their preaching is in line with their heroes (usually in the current generation, sometimes historical figures).  The concern seems to be to declare that “I am a true expository preacher!”  It is amazing how much insecurity we see in the church as people seem desperate to play the association game, name drop, seek approval, etc.

Expository preaching is not about displaying the preacher’s skill in exegesis, or craft in sermon construction, or association with a certain camp of evangelical Christianity.  Expository preaching should come from an accurate understanding of the nature of Scripture, not a commitment to sermonic form or fashion.  Expository preaching should come from a passion for God’s inspired and relevant Word to be communicated clearly to specific people that they might respond to Him.

Chrysostom on Applause

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Way way back many centuries ago, not long after the Bible ended, there was a famous preacher called Chrysostom.  I thought I’d share a bit of his thinking today.  He’s reflecting on the tension created by the applause that was culturally part of the public speaking event, and had come into the church too:

There are many preachers who make long sermons: if they are well applauded, they are as glad as if they had obtained a kingdom: if they bring their sermon to an end in silence, their despondency is worse, I may almost say, than hell.  It is this that ruins churches, that you do not seek to hear sermons that touch the heart, but sermons that will delight your ears with their intonation and the structure of their phrases, just as if you were listening to singers and lute-players.

Then he offers a helpful simile to show the dangerous temptations facing preachers (still today, I would say):

We act like a father who gives a sick child a cake or an ice, or something else that is merely nice to eat – just because he asks for it; and takes no pains to give him what is good for him; and then when the doctors blame him says, ‘I could not bear to hear my child cry.’ . . . . That is what we do when we elaborate beautiful sentences, fine combinations and harmonies, to please and not to profit, to be admired and not to instruct, to delight and not to touch you, to go away with your applause in our ears, and not to better your conduct.

Finally, he gives a vulnerable and honest insight into the inner struggle he faced as a preacher.  Let’s face it, the flesh is a potent feature in every preacher’s experience.

Believe me, I am not speaking at random: when you applaud me as I speak, I feel at the moment as it is natural for a man to feel.  I will make a clean breast of it.  Why should I not?  I am delighted and overjoyed.  And then when I go home and reflect that the people who have been applauding me have received no benefit, and indeed that whatever benefit they might have had has been killed by the applause and praises, I am sore at heart, and I lament and fall to tears, and I feel as though I had spoken altogether in vain, and I say to myself, What is the good of all your labours, seeing that your hearers don’t want to reap any fruit out of all that you say? And I have often thought of laying down a rule absolutely prohibiting all applause, and urging you to listen in silence.

Most of our churches don’t have applause breaking out mid-sermon.  But we still have the flesh!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This quote taken from S. Chrys. Hom. xxx. In Act. Apost. c. 3, vol.ix. 238., quoted by Edwin Hatch in The influence of Greek Ideas and Usages upon the Christian Church, 1897, p111.

Psalms: A Disconnect and a Nudge

/ Peter Mead / 2 Comments

Point 1. At a recent preaching seminar the organiser admitted that he had only ever chosen to preach from the Psalms once.  He asked everyone present how much they choose to preach from the Psalms when they have the choice on what to preach.  The general consensus was almost never.

Point 2. Speak to any Christian who has been walking with the Lord for more than a few years.  Ask them what book of the Bible has been dear to them during the most challenging times in their experience.  Times of hurt, of doubt, of grief, of loss, of fear, of insecurity, of loneliness, of pain, of betrayal . . . the times when life was as life often is. The answer, time and again, will be the book of Psalms.

The Disconnect. People come to church in the midst of life in all its colour and complexity.  People are hurting, doubting, experiencing, struggling, suffering.  A significant proportion of people in our churches every Sunday are dealing with a significant level of life’s complexity.  Yet as preachers many of us seldom if ever choose to preach from the book that countless Christians have grown to love precisely because it does engage with the harsh realities of life in a way that we can identify with.  This is a disconnect.  (Not to mention the fact that when some do preach the Psalms, they have a habit of dissecting into theology-sized chunks that feel like an epistle in presentation – that’s something I’ve written about in other posts!)

The Nudge. Why not preach from the Psalms sometime?

In the Airport

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In the past three posts we have considered sermon conclusions – weak finishes and strong finishes.  We’ve also considered the elements included in the service after the sermon is over.  More could be said on all of these, but I’d like to push the airplane analogy slightly further and prompt our thinking on the post-service aspects of the passenger’s journey.  I mentioned the positive and negative effects of having music playing after the service is concluded.  There are other things to consider.  Whether the analogy works or not is somewhat unimportant, but these thoughts are worth pondering in our churches.

Some passengers want to get out of the plane and airport at breakneck speed – Like it or not, some people just want to, or need to flee from the church once things are over.  It doesn’t help them to make that difficult.  At the same time, no airline I’ve been on will let you leave without a friendly goodbye.  Some churches put a lot of energy into greeting/welcoming teams (a very good idea), but let people slip away without human interaction after the service.  On the other hand, some churches seem to put barriers to people leaving, or create an environment where people are rushed out before they need to be (the preacher at the door shaking hands with everyone can sometimes create an urgency to vacate the building).

Some passengers need to sit down and let it all sink in – This may be a slight stretch, but some airports (I’m thinking more of the US ones), have seats at the gate so passengers can sit down if they need to.  That doesn’t matter, but in church sometimes there is nowhere for someone to sit and soak for a while.  I mentioned the music signal in some places that blasts out an indication that its all over now and its time to interact (at high volume if you want to be heard).  This creates an environment very non-conducive to post-service reflection.

Some passengers need to access further information – I suppose its a bit like finding out about connecting flights, but how do people in church know who to go to in order to find out more?  Is the preacher accessible (or is he stuck at the door shaking hand after hand and smiling at polite feedback?)  Is there a way to get someone to pray with?  What about finding out about other aspects of church life that could be the next step after this service (I wonder about some church notice boards that simply offer a confusing array of meetings at other churches).

Most passengers will want to talk with someone about their journey – In travel world it seems like everyone is ready to say something about what they’ve just experienced (or endured) when they meet a human who actually knows them.  In church world it often seems like everyone is ready to talk about anything but what they’ve just experienced.  But actually, people need to reflect and reinforce and respond in community rather than in isolation.  Does your church encourage that kind of interaction?

After You Finish

/ Peter Mead / 1 Comment

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

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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

/ 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.

 

 

Troublingly Distant

/ Peter Mead / 3 Comments

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 . . .