I believe I mentioned (a few posts ago) that I’ve been reflecting on and re-thinking my perspective on preaching… wondering why and how and in what way I believe it should be done. I remember listening to my father preach during my growing-up years. I connected with his style. He is passionate about exegesis and about teaching both theology and praxis, mapping out what the author and The Author are doing in a passage so that we can grasp it and live into that truth. He’s an academic and an intellectual (little wonder I connected with his style, eh?
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Over the years, I have heard many other preachers as well, both men and women. I’ve heard the three-point preachers (this is what it means, go and do this in your life, ultra-practical), the soap-box preachers (every topic is political in nature, they’ve got the answer to every current controversy), the scare-tactic preachers (who either want to scare you into heaven or out of hell or out of your current sin), and the the feel-good preachers (God loves you no matter what, you don’t need to change a thing). I’m obviously over-generalizing these categories… and to be honest, each one of these stereo-types has its strength. There is reason to be scared. There is reason to feel very safe and secure in God’s Love. Christian faith IS political, and scripture IS of course practical to our lives.
I am struggling, though, to figure out who I am as a preacher. I am partly all of these things: an intellectual, a political activist, practical, passionate, compassionate… and on top of being this strange mix of things, I also have a growing conviction that when we as preachers do the practical application FOR our listeners, we can actually make lazy disciples. Lord knows, we don’t need any more of these. Every person should be doing their own application, because the application will be unique to each of them in their own personal context. So bottom line– I cannot hear myself preaching as any of those aforementioned preachers, and not exactly like any of the preachers I have had the privilege of hearing over the course of my life (those some of those have connected very closely with me and my style). I want to be uniquely me when I preach. I simply haven’t figured out how to do that yet.
Beyond the question of ‘how do I, Kris Anne, preach’ is another more general struggle. I am having my doubts about how preaching for 30-40 minutes is helpful to the Body of Christ. No one listens for that long (I believe studies have shown that the longest anyone can listen is about 10-15 minutes). So why do we keep going on for another 15-20? I know it is vitally important to teach scripture. I recognize the role that scripture plays in shaping the people of God, through the power of the Holy Spirit. I love working with scripture and delving into it WITH people! And that is exactly the problem. Preaching isn’t done in conversation… it’s the preacher talking about what they think, what they believe, what they alone hear the text saying. It’s a very narrow perspective, though I’m sure they hear a message from God that is important and truthful. I know I’m called. I know I’m gifted… as of yet, I’m just not comfortable with that kind of monologue. Part of it may be that I just need practice, but another part of it is that I do not believe preaching a 30-40 minute sermon from behind a podium, in front of a gathered congregation in the pew, is what preaching was in the Old or New Testaments.
My pastor and mentor at Highland Park Community Church gave me a book on Sunday. I started reading it immediately, because my next sermon is coming up at the end of October (yikes!). The book Jayne gave me is called Countdown to Sunday: a daily guide for those who dare to preach by Chris Erdman. I am devouring it (almost literally! … I have to give this copy back to her, though, so I am trying to refrain). Erdman talks about the life and ministry of pastors, and doing preaching “on the run.” This does not mean short-cutting the study. He believes in hardcore exegesis! What it does mean is that the old-school pastor’s schedule (spend the entire morning in study and sermon-prep, spend your afternoons and evenings with people) does not apply. Study of scripture is sprinkled throughout the pastor’s life; meditation on what you’ve studied is done in the car, by the bedside, during the meetings. I haven’t finished the book yet, but I also gather that “preaching on the run” is done without a manuscript, or even extensive notes. The information and the scripture have marinated inside the preacher all week, as she has lived and worked among the people– thus, when she gets up there in front of her people to preach, all the things that she needs to include, to fill out and support her BIG IDEA, come naturally forth. Not to say that no planning has been done… her big idea (or main point) is firmly fixed. She knows where she’s going. What she allows to be born in her in that moment, is HOW to get there. That part is not planned ahead of time.
I’m playing around with this idea. Is this the kind of preacher I am? …not sure yet. So far it feels right, though. Totally scary, but right. As I often do, I offer some quotes from the book, in closing. Let me know what you think.
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“The truth is costly. It is not safe. It runs up against the powers of death that would sooner have us cocooned inside safe, gated communities or behind safe, gated sermons that comfort people and assure them that their desire to live long, wealthy, and healthy lives is just what the gospel wants them to have– all the while living lives locked inside a banal existence, terrified by death, and supporting anything and anyone that will promise to keep us safe… The prophets rarely said what the powers wanted them to say; instead they dropped their masks, opened a vein and bled for God… and blood heals, in more ways than one” (p. 21-22).
“I am free to live in the moment, with the sense of God with me and me with God. I am free to trust in the truth of God and therefore free to preach more humanly. To be me. To celebrate the creative Word. To utter these words with wild abandonment to their own power. To trust that my fragile words have a creative power that is not my own. All God asks is that I speak lovingly, daringly, and as truthfully as possible, dropping my masks, opening a vein, and bleeding” (p. 26).
“Preaching for me invariably falls flat, is too much work, and fails to be honest and free when I am too self-conscious– when I’m worried and anxious about the task of preparing the text and hosting it among the people, when I’m worried and anxious about how I am doing and if I’m right enough or good enough or relevant enough. After many years at it and among various congregations, preaching is at its best in me precisely when I am LEAST self-conscious, when I am absorbed in the moment, when I care as little as I possibly can about how I’m coming across to the congregation; when I am engaged, present, absorbed in or actually inhabiting the text as if lost in rapt attentiveness and adoration” (p. 32).
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O God, please reveal to me who I am as preacher. Teach me how to faithfully “host” the text among your people. Teach me how to inhabit the text in the moment of preaching… and to truly see the people who are seated before me in that moment. Help me to bleed. Amen.