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Few Things That Change Sermons After A Few Years Of Preaching
After 1000 Sermons Or So, What's Different From The First Ones?
Someone asked me a question last week that really got me thinking. “How has your preaching changed over the years, and why?”
I gave my first sermon at Webster Gardens (my field education church) in 1979. My first congregation was Salem, Affton. There are people in our neighborhood who actually witnessed my first forays into the preaching thing.
I hope you never meet them!
But I will tell you that I’ve changed quite a bit from my earlier days. I thought this week I share a little of that with you and maybe it will help you as you do your best to listen on a Sunday!
“Oh, the Pain!”
I sometimes feel like I’ve preached more sermons than Betty Crocker has baked cakes. A quick bit of tinkering with my calculator shows that somewhere in the past few years I passed by the one thousand mark. You’d think a guy’s 1000th sermon would look different than his first. I think you’d be right.
When I came out of the seminary, my sermons were expositions of the truth as revealed in the Word of God. That’s good. God has the answers. I still believe that.
The problem was, I didn’t really know what the questions were!
As the years went by, I became increasingly uncomfortable with the typical pastor’s role of being invisible for six days and incomprehensible on the seventh. I thin the driving force in my change in preaching came as a result of pain.
It really hurt to walk away from a sermon knowing that I had failed to facilitate the connection of God’s Word with God’s people. I knew something had to change.
Here’s what I identified as the reasons why I felt the pain, or maybe better, the discomfort of preaching pretty miserable sermons. First and foremost were the congregational forces. Over the years, because of the experiences I had with the members of the churches I was privileged to serve, somewhere along the line, I started to become a pastor. Somewhere in the midst of the weddings and the funerals and the midnight trips to the hospitals and the youth retreats and the tears and the laughter and the potluck suppers, I fell desperately in love with God’s people. You did that to me.
And it changes the way a preacher preaches. Pat and cozy answers get wrestled with when you sit with people as their marriage is crumbling, or as a beloved one is facing their final days, or when the Board of Directors is struggling to know God’s will for the mission of the church. Pastors who are really pastors preach different than preachers.
Another big difference for me was spending seven years at Peace Lutheran in Saginaw in a team ministry with two other really good preachers. Ed was meticulous in his preparation and Bert was passionate in his emotional investment in the sermon. I learned from these tow great guys to strive for excellence in preaching. I learned that I couldn’t “take a week off” because the people had grown accustomed to great preaching. Those guys still inspire me!
A third big difference in my preaching comes from the inside. God has been at work in me. I know I’m not the Christian or the pastor or the preacher that I should be, or even the one that I could be. But I’m thankful to God that I’m not what I used to be. God is at work in me, fashioning and forming me to be more and more like Jesus as the years go by, and that changes the way I preach. You understand, don’t you. He’s doing the same in you!
I’d add one more force that has worked to make me uncomfortable enough to want to change and do better. Educational forces. In the four years of my continuing education studies at the seminary, I’ve read dozens of the most up to date work on homiletics, the study of preaching. Wow! What an eye opener. Besides the reading, the best part of the course work has been spending a couple of weeks each year with my fellow preachers. I’ve learn enough to be able to make some changes.
The Why and the
How
The “Why I’ve changed” is pretty simple: I’ve felt this strong compulsion to do better. Now about the “How has your preaching changed?”
I came out of the seminary thinking that everyone looked at the Bible the same way that I did. I assumed that everyone listening on a Sunday would here a passage of Scripture read and carefully explained and then respond, “Well, that settles it! God said it and I believe it!” For the most part, that was pretty true. My first church was pretty traditionally Lutheran with the majority of members long-time Lutherans who all seemed to share a good old Lutheran view of the Bible.
Much has changed in the years that have passed. People today are more inclined to think of the Bible as one book of wisdom among many, without any greater claim to authority and truth than Dr. Phil’s latest. What I find is that I can’t just quote a Bible verse in a sermon the way I used to and assume that settles the issue for everyone. (It still should, in my view, but I now realize it doesn’t necessarily).
I’m also more anxious than ever to help people discover the beauty and wonder of God’s Word. God speaks. I want everyone to hear what he says!
A second big “how has your preaching changed” is the way I think I’m getting more and more relational and dialogical. I want to talk with you and to you, not at you. I was guilty of the latter for many years of sermons. I hope you notice the difference.
This last “how” is maybe the biggest and the hardest to explain. Maybe another preposition will help. I’m discovering what it means that God is, on a weekly basis, speaking through me. That is a thought that takes some getting used to.
I’ve always enjoyed the story about the Palm Sunday donkey, who went home after the great parade and told his friends, “It finally happened! What a great day! I’ve finally gotten the recognition I deserve. Today as I walked into Jerusalem, the people started to sing and shout and throw their coats down in front of me. Well, it’s about time!” Of course his friends only smiled. We all know it’s not about the donkey. It’s about the Jesus on his back.
I’m proud to be the donkey. What a privilege to carry the Savior to you in the message each week. (I try not to make a “donkey” of myself, but that happens with us donkeys sometimes).
But the interesting thing about that Palm Sunday is this: Jesus hand picked the donkey. He didn’t tell the disciples to get “a” donkey. He told them to get “that” donkey. Sometimes I wonder why he chose me, but I’m learning that in spite of my many failures and faults, he puts the Word in me each week and then delivers it to you. It’s a mystery.
The bottom line here is this: God uses each of us to bear his Word to the world. You’re not who you used to be either, and God is working in your life, transforming you into his extraordinary servant. You’ve got a message to deliver, too.
So, give it your best. Share the saving love of Christ. If you have to, use words.