I'm re-reading J. Gresham Machen's Christianity & Liberalism with my friend and co-worker, Jacob Hall. Machen wrote this book in 1923 as a response to the doctrineless preaching of Harry Fosdick. It rings true today--and I'm not just talking about what others are preaching. I'm talking about the temptation I face to avoid saying hard things. I'm surprised how often I have an inner conversation as I prepare a sermon. It goes something like this: "Aaron, that's true. It's in the Bible. It needs to be said even though it may offend some." In spite of myself, I am resolved to call myself and others to repent. Here is Machen, challenging preachers to stop their feeble attempts to reform the self-righteous. Instead, we ought to show the "righteous" their sin.

The fundamental fault of the modern Church is that she is busily engaged in an absolutely impossible task—she is busily engaged in calling the righteous to repentance. Modern preachers are trying to bring men into the Church without requiring them to relinquish their pride; they are trying to help men avoid the conviction of sin. The preacher gets into the pulpit, opens the Bible, and addresses the congregation somewhat as follows: ‘You people are very good,’ he says; ‘you respond to every appeal that looks toward the welfare of the community. Now we have in the Bible—especially in the life of Jesus—something so good that we believe it is good enough even or you good people.’ Such is modern preaching. It is heard every Sunday in thousands of pulpits. But it is entirely futile. Even our Lord did not call the righteous to repentance, and probably we shall be no more successful than He.

The rest of the time at the FIEL conference was a great privilege.

1) I got to hang out with some great brothers and sisters: an older brother in ministry, Stuart Olyott; a fellow elder, John Folmar (who so graciously put up with my snoring - one night on the plane and 3 nights in a hotel room); the leadership of FIEL, including the director, Rick Denham: hugely gifted in terms of vision and business acumen, and Tiago Santos: a brother with great theological insight and pastoral vision (you could tell he's got a great pastoral heart even by how he translated - he wasn't just translating it, he was preaching it!)

2) What a privilege to have the opportunity to encourage, and Lord willing, influence a group of pastors in a part of the world that is starving for the gospel. I was constantly encouraged by conversations with people who had made great sacrifices, and had a joyful trust in the Lord, even though the fruit seemed to be slow to become visible.

3) I was fed in my own soul through listening to the teaching of John Folmar, Sturat Olyott, and Augustus Nicodemus (as much as I could understand his Portuguese.)
One highlight was the two-part message given by Stuart Olyott on how not to preach boring sermons. I posted the link to the first half earlier.

Here's the second half:

Here are his 13 points!

1. Reflect on when you last switched off
2. Learn communication skills
3. Be expository
4. Use stories
5. Ask questions
6. Keep eye contact
7. Use the spoken language (not the written language)
8. Take care of your voice
9. Remember that less means more
10. Be the slave of structure and logic
11. Be in the message
12. Assault the conscience
13. Conquer God before you start (in prayer)

Another joy of being at the FIEL conference in Portugal has been to get to know Stuart Ollyott. 

Dee

Deepak, thanks for the way you serve the usefulness of this blog so well by asking such good questions...

Mark Dever often talks about the conclusion as being the point where the weight of the whole sermon falls down upon the congregation as it is pressed home in summary.

I think that's right. However, I find it incredibly hard to do. In a way it's a test of how coherent a message the sermon has been. If you are unable to summarise the significance of a particular sermon, then you will be unable to press it all home at once.

John Stott comes up with 5 different ways this can be done:

"The conclusion should not merely recapitulate your sermon—it should apply it. Obviously, you should be applying all along, but you should keep something for the end which will prevail upon your people to take action. “No summons, no sermon.” Preach through the head to the heart (i.e. the will). The goal of the sermon should be to “storm the citadel of the will and capture it for Jesus Christ. What do you want them to do? Employ a variety of methods to do this:

1. Argument—anticipate objections and refute them.
   
2. Admonition— warn of the consequences of disobedience.
   
3. Indirect Conviction—arouse moral indignation and then turn it on them (Nathan with David).
   
4. Pleading—apply the gentle pressure of God’s love, concern for their well-being, and the needs of others.
   
5. Vision—paint a picture of what is possible through obedience to God in this area." 

(HT: Adrian Warnock)
 
Of the five, I have a massive preference for the fifth where possible (so long as we stretch "obedience to God" to include, "faith in God").

One useful way to do that is through a positive biography.

Find someone who has lived out the main point of the sermon well. So, for example, if the sermon had been on 2 Corinthians 4:16-18.

 ¹⁶Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

You reach the conclusion that it is all about living today in the light of the future. A brief survey of the fruitfulness of the life of Anthony Ashley Cooper, 7th Earl of Shaftesbury and ask what made him so fruitful. Then quote from him,

"I do not think in the last forty years I have lived one conscious hour that was not influenced by the thought of our Lord’s return."

Thabiti, Mike M., Mike G., Aaron, Jonathan, and Greg,

What is point of the sermon conclusion?  I know there are lots of ways to conclude a sermon, but in general what should a pastor be trying to accomplish as he wraps up a sermon? 

Thanks for passing on your wisdom on this matter.

I hate the word "non-Christian".  

A brief explanation (albeit indirect) of why I happily identify with 9Marks

Jesus tells us to be careful how we hear (Luke 8:18).  Yet many Christians approach the Sunday sermon with little to no game-plan for listening well.

Dee,

A little while back you offered a post asking about the use of manuscripts.  One day I'm going to mature and speak from a "manuline" like McKinley.  But the other day I read this from Murray's biography of Lloyd-Jones:

Initially at Aberavon he attempted to write both sermons for Sunday in full--an average of nine, ten or more pages, closely written on both sides.  The reason for the full manuscript was not a concern for a literary form, still less for something to read in the pulpit, it was rather to be sure that he was clear in the substance of his message.  He believed that a preacher should know what he was going to say from the beginning to the end.  Within in weeks, however, he found it impossible to write two sermons in full and this his settled habit for many years became to write one sermon fully, and the other--though he thought it out in detail--only to record in outline.  At first the full sermon manuscript went with him into the pulpit, but he soon found that practice inhibiting, and his custom became to read the fully-written sermon through some three times, and then to have no more than an outline of it with him when he was preaching.  In his judgment, the evening sermons (which were more specifically intended for non-Christians) were the hardest to prepare; it was therefore generally these which were written in full.  Once or twice when, relying on his 'feeling' for a text, he preached with an inadequately thought-out plan, and failed miserably.  Generally his experience concurred with that of Henry Rees, one of the Methodist fathers who, when asked which of his sermons had been most honoured of God, replied, 'The ones I prepared most carefully'. (p. 154)

There you see a man adapting and changing but also maintaining a relentless focus on preparation. 

While reading the Murray biography, I was stunned to read that the common practice in Wales when Lloyd-Jones began his preaching ministry was to grant 13 Sundays away for the minister.  Essentially three months could be used by the pastor to labor or minister elsewhere or to entertain guest preachers when they came.  I'm not sure how they arrived at 13 Sundays, but that was a bit surprising.  But even so, in his first twelve months in the pastorate at Wales, Lloyd-Jones preached at 54 different places in Wales!  That's 54 places/locations, not even 54 sermons of which there could have been more.  Murray comments: "Such was the additional work of his first year in the ministry, and thereafter, for half-a-century, no year was to be so quiet!" (p. 183)

So, here's my two-fold question, especially for Matt who talks these things through with churches all the time:

1.  Any counsel as to how a church should arrive at how often/little their main preaching pastor should be out of the pulpit?  I assume you'll say, "It depends."  And it does.  But depends on what factors?

2.  How would you have counseled Lloyd-Jones about accepting/declining speaking invitations that take him away from his new charge?

Mike,

This is how I'm thinking about preaching Revelation chapter 20 tomorrow.  Just thought I'd share the evolution of an outline (that still isn't finished!).

#1 

            20:1-3  The Binding of Satan

            20:4-6  The Thousand Years—Christ Reigning with His Saints

            20:7-10  The Final Defeat of Satan

            20:11-15  The Final Judgment of the Dead

 

#2

            20:1-3  God is Sovereign over Satan

            20:4-6  Christians reign with God & Christ

            20:7-10  Satan will appear to flourish but will be judged

            20:11-15  The dead (and death!) are judged.  Everyone will be judged

 

#3 

            Christians need not fear persecution  20:4-6

            Christians need not fear Satan, 20:1-3, 7-10

            Christians need not fear death, 20:11-15

 

#4

            Christians need not be scared of Satan, 20:1-3, 7-10

            Christians need not be scared of death, 20:4-6

            Christians need not be scared of God, 20:11-15

 

#5 

            Don’t let threats intimidate you  20:4-6

            Don’t let lies deceive you  20:1-3, 7-10

            Don’t let death fool you  20:11-15

 

#6

            Christians will be blessed 20:4-6

            Satan will be defeated 20:1-3, 7-10

            Everyone will be judged 20:11-15

 

#7

            Common myths:

            1)  Christianity isn’t worth it.  20:4-6

            2)  Who’s to say?  20:1-3, 7-10

            3)  People get away with stuff 20:11-15

 

#8

            Don’t worry  20:1-3, 7-10

            Make sure 20:11-15
            Praise God 20:4-10

Mike, thanks for the thoughts and resources on Proverbs.  I'm preaching through the first nine chapters now and loving it! 

I will say, though, I've found it at times more difficult to get to Christ in Proverbs than I have in any other literature.  The difficulty, for me, at least, is that so muc of the theology of Proverbs is implicit and the nature of the literature suggests moralism rather than gospel.  But fighting to think through that in ways faithful to the text has been really, really helpful.  In my own soul, I've been discovering more roundedness and depth to the Christian life as I've worked through those issues.  Not sure my preaching shows that, but the preacher has been stretched and taught.

I'd ditto your suggested resources.  Although, I'd have to say Bridges is my favorite.  I'd also recommend Mark's sermons on the first nine chapters.  I remember those being really powerful.

Enjoy Proverbs when you dig into it!  I know I have!

Dee,

Thanks for the good question on introductions.  Mike and Mike, thanks for keeping it hizzle (that's "hot" in Ebonics) by bringing the edifizzle ("edifying" comments).

Now you guys have me thinking about introductions more than I normally do, which probably explains why I'm not that good at them.  Often my introductions are questions that point to the application or the main theme.  So, a couple Sundays ago, we were in Proverbs 5 and I asked questions related to the trajectory of marriage in the Cayman Islands.  The questions traded on the recent passage of a constitutional referendum defining marriage as between one man and one woman.  It was a victory, but the real work of marriage has to do with us heterosexual Christians really loving and serving our spouses as though revealing Christ and the gospel might somehow be connected to marriage.  For those with an hour, the sermon is here. 

About the only time I've scrapped an introduction has been in response to something happening in the service... say the Lord using a song before the sermon in a particularly poignant or powerful way.  Then I might try to extemporaneously bridge what just took place in the singing with the beginning of the sermon.  Tried that here.  When that happens, it's usually a gospel appeal of some sort.

But all this talk of introductions reminds me of two reasons for introductions that I don't think anyone has said yet.  First, I, the preacher, need the introduction.  It helps me settle down into what I'm doing.  It brings me from the participation I've just been experiencing with the prayer or the singing to the participation I'm about the share with the word.  Not everyone would need that "lead time," I'm sure.  But it focuses me in helpful ways.  Second, usually the introduction helps me to remember that I'm speaking to a people and that the sermon (though not a dialogue) has an audience I need to communicate with.  The sermon introduction reminds me of that.

So, I like them.  I don't think I'm particularly good at them.  Could use even more help with conclusions, labeling the main points in short pithy statements, and illustrating.  Pretty much the whole shooting match.  But these exchanges have been helpful on the front end.  Fa' rizzle. 

Thanks Mike,

Great questions.

Some quick cross-cultural comments first.
1) Thanks for the translation of 'skeptical' without which I would have been very confused (that's 'confuzed' to you).
2) As to whether people wear pants to church I can't say that I would know, though most of the men certainly wear trousers.
3) It would be good to have intros that are not pants.

Obviously you are correct that if people were TOTALLY disinterested they wouldn't be here (Even more so in the UK than the US, where we have less that 10% of the population in church on any given Sunday.)

However, in most of those churches there isn't a 40 minute sermon, and there isn't an appetite for it. I do feel that it is kind to help people to see the relevance of what they are going to hear ahead of time, rather than wading into 5-10 minutes of exegesis before they begin to see the relevance of it for their lives.

4 ways in which an introduction can help people all people, however interested they are to listen:

1. An introduction gets people thinking about a topic that will be addressed in the sermon.
2. It helps people to think application from the very beginning.
3. In that way it helps to give shape to a sermon.
4. It disarms the sermon-biber who loves to hear sermons without putting it into practice. I know even from my own quiet times that I must force myself before reading the text to think 'relevance' rather than merely 'comprehension' before I start to read. An intro is a kind way to help the whole congregation to think that way.

My sermon on Sunday had a brief (3-4 minute) intro. It certainly wasn't clever. But I think the sermon would have been poorer without it, as it was designed to get people thinking about how they set the whole direction of their life, and therefore people would come to the text with that question.

If you are interested, you can read it here.

Hi Deepak,

Good question.

I have only one real desire for an introduction: that it will impress upon the congregation why we desperately need to hear the message of the particular passage of Scripture we are looking at together.

Of course, we ought to believe that just because it is in the bible. So, I'll assume the more mature believer will listen anyway. So, I'll particularly think about one central question that the passage addresses that will be of interest to the immature Christian and the Non Christian. I'll then think about how to impress upon people the necessity of answering that question, perhaps raise up front the answers that other worldviews will give to that question and then launch into the text and its answer.

I aim to make it engaging, contemporary, transparently relevant, an opportunity to show that I understand that some people disagree with the bible's answer, and trans-cultural (embracing high culture / low culture / multiple ethnicities). Above all, the question I raise must be answered by the text and be close to the central point of the text.

E.g.

Last week I preached on the Abimelech Narrative (Judges 9). The question I raised there was "Who's in control when things seem in disarray?"

The complete political crisis in Britain over the past week, as well as European parliamentary elections and the fragility of Brown's leadership provided a gift of a backdrop in which to ask such questions.

Who's in control: Brown? the queen the parliamentary Labour party? the electorate? Brussels?

We explored the elusiveness of power for a few minutes and then launched into Judges 9. The answer, of course is that the Lord is utterly in control both to curse and to bless.

I guess sometime soon the sermon might appear on our website...

Mike, Aaron, Greg, and Thabiti,

A few questions about sermon introductions...

1.  What is your goal when you write an sermon introduction? 

2.  How does the sermon introduction relate to the text? 

3.  Optional:  Can you give us an example of a sermon introduction you've done?  You can either link to your on-line sermon or explain in just a few sentences what you did or even post your manuscript?

Thanks, brothers.

Deepak 

I am an aural person.  I tend to hear and "catch" everything around me. I learn best by hearing something spoken or explained.

Deepak,

Hey Dee,

I preach from a full manuscript.  It's nothing fancy, pretty much word-for-word what I intend to preach.  Though that never happens.

My main points are in bold, and sometimes sub-points as well.  I underline the first sentence of each paragraph in red.  If there is a cross-reference, I'll either bold the reference in the text, or if it's extended and I don't want people to actually turn to it, I'll include it as a block quote.

I think I'm probably a better preacher with an outline rather than a manuscript, but I prefer a manuscript at this point for four reasons.  One, I'm still learning to preach.  I got a ways to go.  Two, like Mike, I'm working on content and accuracy with the text.  Three, I want people drawn to the content rather than to personality in the pulpit.  Four, I don't know that the Lord would ever be pleased to use my sermons beyond the local church I pastor.  And I'm so thrilled to be a pastor, I won't feel any loss if He doesn't.  But one of the tragedies of the African-American pulpit is that so few men have left any considerable manuscript evidence of their labors.  Some of the greatest pulpit preachers in history are vaguely remembered but not studied.  In case my labors may be of use to someone at some point, I don't want to make the mistake of leaving little to nothing behind.  So, I write--but not with an eye to someone else's profit but for the profit of the people in my charge.

The manuscript helps me on these points.  But I'm not enslaved to it.  I'm happy to leave the manuscript whenever I think it's necessary. 

As for young preachers, I wouldn't presume that anything I'd have to say would fit everyone or even anyone.  But I'd encourage the young pastor to preach from a manuscript for their first ten years of full-time preaching responsibility.  That sounds like a long time, but it's not.  And there is so much to learn in that first decade (each decade really) that I think the discipline of writing the manuscript is worth it.  But I like Mike's example: know yourself and your tendencies.  If you go completely wooden with a manuscript, maybe that's not best.  If you go trivial and sometimes heretical speaking extemporaneously, then please write the sermon brother.

If you're thinking of using a manuscript, here's a helpful tip I picked up from Michael Lawrence: Write for the ear and not for the eye.  Remember you're going to preach the sermon; it's an auditory event.  The listener won't be reading with their eyes what you've written.  So, write like you speak.

Having said all that, I'm considering a change, though.  We may move to a teleprompter.  Then watch the ink spill at the 9Marks ejournal!

Hey Dee,

Mike, Thabiti, Greg, Jonathan, and Aaron,

I'm curious....when you preach, do you use a manuscript, an outline, or something else?  And, what would you advise new preachers/pastors to use when they first start preaching? 

Thanks (in advance) for your wise, thoughtful and humorous responses.

In 1522 at Wittenberg, Luther preached a sermon on John 10:1-11, a passage about Jesus being the good shepherd and the one through whom his sheep find salvation. Luther applied this text to the pastoral ministry, leaving his audience with several helpful lessons regarding what is necessary in a preaching pastor:

·      A commission from those in authority. This is an interesting argument for Luther to make considering he broke from Rome. Nonetheless, he was convinced that though every Christian is part of a royal priesthood and therefore “we all have the authority to preach” it is also true that everything in the church should be done in an orderly fashion. Thus, “in the matter of preaching,” said Luther, “we must make selection that order may be preserved.” 

·      A conviction to preach nothing but Christ’s Word. Entering by the door (John 10:9) implied teaching what Christ taught. Luther minced no words warning those who enter by another door in order to preach another message: “Those who enter not by the door—that is, those who do not speak the true and pure Word of God, without any addition—do not lay the right foundation; they destroy and torture and slaughter the sheep.” 

·      A commitment to understanding the Law before preaching the Gospel. The Law reveals our helplessness and humbles us. Those humbled by their sin will not welcome preaching that ends with the Law. Truly humbled hearts want to hear the voice of the Shepherd. “It [the heart] knows very well that nothing is accomplished by means of works; for one may do as much as he will, still he carries a heavy spirit and he thinks he has not done enough, nor done rightly. But when the Gospel comes—the voice of the shepherd—it says: God gave to the world his only Son, that all who believe on him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Then is the heart happy; it feeds upon these words and finds them good.” 

·      A willingness to allow the hearer to judge the sermon. The sheep will follow the true shepherd. Before they willingly follow a preacher, they must be sure that preacher is preaching Christ. The hearer ought to say to the preacher, said Luther, “I am God’s sheep, whose Word I wish to appropriate to myself. If you will give me that, I will acknowledge you to be a shepherd. If you, however, add another Gospel to this one, and do not give me the pure Gospel, then I will not consider you a shepherd, and will not listen to your voice; for the office of which you boast extends no farther than the Word goes.” 

·      A confidence in the Word to change hearts. Luther addressed ecclesiastical laws requiring people to make confession and take the Lord’s Supper. Without confidence in the Word, the Church of Luther’s day sought to decree faith. Only Christ, he argued, can make someone believe: “Whoever lays hold of Christ’s word follows after him and permits nothing to tear him from it. The noblemen wish to drive the people to believe by means of the sword and fire; that is nonsense. Then let us see to it that we allow the pure Word of God to take its course, and afterward leave them free to follow, whom it has taken captive; yea, they will follow voluntarily.”

Almost 500 years later, these lessons hold true: Churches should commission pastors to preach. Pastors should only preach Christ’s word. They should know the difference between the Law which reveals sin and the Gospel which sets sinners free. They should create an environment where hearers understand that the only true preaching is in accordance with the words of the Chief Shepherd. Finally, they should believe that Christ’s word will be effective—it will change hearts.

"When the time had fully come, God sent His Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons" (Gal. 4:4).

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly" (Rom. 5:6).

God impeccably timed the coming of Jesus.  He wasn't a moment too soon in coming, nor a moment too late.  It was "at just the right time."  Things were at their full.  All that had happened before was, in one sense, completed for our instruction, "on whom the fulfillment of the ages has come" (1 Cor. 10:11). 

We should marvel at the precise timing of God in bringing to pass our redemption in Christ.  It was not haphazzard.  It was not coincidental, nor scheduled according to convenience.  Christ's coming was not random or laid back.  Jesus came in the era and moment maximally effective at redeeming His people--"at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly."  The time had fully come.

One of the things impeccably timed with Christ's coming is the setting down of God's word.  Jesus could have come a century or so earlier, before Greek becomes the lingua franca of the empire.  Or, he could have come when the printed word was at its peak and publishing at full tilt.  But had He come earlier, the recording and distribution of holy writ might have met with limited circulation.  Had he come centuries later, when the pubishing was easier and more widespread, perhaps the din of voices would have been too loud to hear the distinctiveness of His own.  Had he come in our video age, how might the pixelated depiction of our Lord and His message have squashed the living dynamism of the word and made static forever all the wrong things?  These are speculations, of course, because He came at just the right time for the inspiration and distribution of His word as well.

A couple implications:

1.  Arguments about the culturally bounded and limited nature of revelation fall short, imo.  He came at just the right time to say just what He wanted to say in the way He wanted to say it to reach all of His people.

2.  Certain things, then, should not be done to His revelation, like twittering the Easter message.  The God-breathed message, fully inspired, wasn't timed for the mediums of our day.  That doesn't mean the message can't work in the medium; it means not every medium is appropriate for the message.  Seems to me a twittered account of the Passion lacks a lot of reverence and awe appropriate to our Lord's sacrifice. 

I'm really glad God sent His Son when He did, accomplishing our salvation, and recorded His word when He did, leaving us an ancient and infallible self-disclosure for the ages.

I tend to get tunnel vision when I'm planning a sermon series.  I am not creative and I am not flexible.  I start at the beginning of a book and plod on until the end.  I don't like to stop and do a breakout series on other books or topics.  I don't like to take large chunks at a time.  Maybe I will when I am a more experienced preacher, but for right now... I just like to take a bite-sized chunk of Scripture, chew it up, and regurgitate it on Sunday morning (note to editor: need better metaphor).

Can I still blog here?

Even if my practice of its precepts isn't.  So, I'm guilty of having said things in the pulpit that I wish I could take back.  I'm not the perfect man of James 3:2, and I suspect he doesn't exist.  I've offended people with insensitive comments and off-color illustrations or jokes.  Some people were fine with what was said, but others were pricked or hurt or unsettled.  No news flash here: but I'm not perfect when it comes to speech.

But, Mike, Eph. 4:29 seems really, really clear to me.  "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."  Then there's Eph. 5:4--"Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving."

I read these two verses and God whips out the plumb line on my speech.  "Only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs" and obscenity, foolish talk and coarse joking are "out of place."  Isn't that exactly what gnaws at us?  Our speech feels "out of place" at times.  Even if we can imagine some moments when we can be daring and cutting edge, our conscience accuses us with that "out of place" and out of bounds feeling.

So, the missional argument doesn't seem very compelling to me.  There is no one more missional than God himself.  And yet, He commands that this specifically is off limits for His servants.  And every image used to described the Christian (light rather than dark; new man rather than old man; etc) assumes that the things of the world no longer typify our lives.  Only Jesus is sufficiently holy and wise to speak repeatedly and flawlessly with sharp language without sinning.  Perhaps this is a case where "WWJD" really isn't all that helpful as a guide.  Better to follow the clear word.

Someone in the comments asked for the audio from Mark Dever's (not really) dialogical sermon on Sunday, so here it is.  Don't listen for the audience participation, listen for the gospel.  It was a wonderfuly encouraging and challenging message from Leviticus 19:1-18.

Download The Reason for the Rules

"When I preach to others
let not my words be merely elegant or masterly,
my reasoning polished and refined,
my performance powerless and tasteless,
but may I exalt thee and humble sinners."

Clipped from "A Minister's Prayer" in The Valley of Vision, page 338.

Both written and video resources from great expositors on exposition over at UA.

I was reading Richard Sibbes the other day (because, you know, that's what the cool kids do) and I came across a complaint of his. It seems that he was frustrated by Christians who made life decisions (like, for instance, where they should live) based on superficial criteria rather than the most important thing: the ability to hear God's Word preached.

Sibbes writes:

In our buildings and dwellings we look for good air, good soil, good neighbours, but where is the main? Who inquireth what minister have we? What means of salvation? Tush! this enters not into their thoughts; and thus do they invert God's order.

Two things stand out to me:

1. He said "Tush!" in a sermon.

2. He's got a good point. If hearing the Word of God is the "one thing necessary" (Luke 10:42), then choosing a good church should be our first priority when considering a move. No?

Steve Timmis (of Total Church fame) preached at Guilford (my church) this Sunday past.  His sermon on Ephesians 1:15-23, "This is Church, Jim, but Not As You Know It", was brilliant.  It is helpful both in its content and as a model of exposition done well.

Here's a link to download it:

Download timmis_oct_19.MP3

Check out this article from yesterday's Washington Post. Above the fold there is a large picture of a man dressed in camoflague holding up a Bible. Following is a long story about Christ Mountaintop Chapel in the DC suburbs, where Pastor Rob Seagears has committed to preaching on whatever the highest grossing movie for the week happens to be.

A few choice quotes from the article:

The Summer Cinema series... seeks to attract those who don't ordinarily attend church while making the experience more fun for those who do.

Seagears bases each week's message on the highest-grossing movie the previous weekend. He sees the movie, then prays about how to extract a biblical message.

Creative services can provide an edge in a tight "religious marketplace," said David Roozen, director of the Hartford Institute for Religion Research in Connecticut. "There's a lot of experimentation going on in worship these days," Roozen said.

He removed his cap and aviator glasses, led a prayer, then preached on the importance of relationships with God, other believers and non-Christians. (He also urged people not to see the movie.)

"It's all about engaging your audience," he said.

My man Carter posted this video over on his blog.  This puts another spin on "out of the mouths of babes!" 

And I'm pretty sure I heard someone say "Teach on!" and the pastor say, "Raise an offering!"

I can't tell if the lil' fella is imitating the Pentecostal preahing he sees or the WWF.

Between Two Worlds posts an excellent interview between iMonk and David Powlison on the application of scripture.  Good stuff to perhaps print and share with our people for their personal use.

A rough transcript from a 7/13/08 broadcast --

Now, I'm going to say something controversial, but the truth is controversial all by itself... you've got to be careful who you let preach to you. Listen, I'm very selective who preaches to me... some guy can get up and preach something that he really believes, but it's just not in the Bible. If I receive what he said, then that's going to become a part of my life and then all of the sudden I'm going down a dead end road because I received something that wasn't even scriptural in the first place... you've got to check out who's doing the feeding, because I'm opening my life up, I'm opening the ground of my life up to somebody's seed.

I'm going to tell you something. Based on who you're getting fed by, you may wake up one day looking just like them. So I take this very seriously, and I'm going to have to give an account for this. What I sow into your life and what your life turns out to be... I'm going to have to stand before God to make sure I sowed the correct seed from His Word to produce the correct life that he wanted produced in your life.

The source: Creflo Dollar.

In 1739, George Whitfield began to travel through America, and he had opportunity to hear a faithful evangelical preacher named Gilbert Tennent in New York.   Upon hearing Rev. Tennent preach, Whitfield wrote:

I never before heard such a searching sermon.  He convinced me more and more that we can preach the Gospel no further than we have experienced the power of it in our own hearts....Being deeply convicted of sin at his conversion, he has learned to experimentally dissect the heart of natural man.  Hypocrites must either soon be converted or enraged at his preaching....He is a son of thunder and does not fear the faces of men.

With this quotation in mind, here are some questions:

1.  Do you (as a preacher) take time to apply the truths of your sermon to your own heart before you preach it to your congregation?    

2. Do you struggle with the fear of man, and if so, how does that affect your preaching? 

3.  Do you work to apply the truth of the text to the hearts of your people, or are you satisfied with just explaining the text?

4.  Is it appropriate to dub Mike McKinley as a "son of thunder"? 

This week two things came across my eyes that made me think...

First, I received a glossy piece of junk mail advertising a national conference (probably the biggest one out there) dedicated to counseling. Above the address label, the mailer asked in big letters: What can you do when preaching a sermon isn't enough?

Second, I was reading Lloyd-Jones' Preaching and Preachers this week with an intern at the church. There the Doctor makes an interesting observation. He says on page 17, "As preaching goes up, personal counseling goes down." Now, if you've read P and P, you know that this was Lloyd-Jones speaking off the cuff. In fact, in the very next paragraph after he makes the statement above he calls tape recording of sermons a "special abomination".

But it's got me to thinking. What is the proper relationship between counseling and preaching? Does the rise of counseling indicate a failure in the pulpit (like Lloyd-Jones seems to indicate)? Does the sermon have limits as a means of addressing people's problems (like the junk mail seems to indicate)? Or is it a both/and situation?

In my experience, I did very little counseling at the outset of my ministry. I was young(er), a new pastor in a new church. My authority was fairly limited. Not many people were lining up for my help. Now that I've been preaching for a while, I think people trust me more as a resource. I also think that preaching aimed at the heart will cause people to grapple with issues that may require more personal follow-up. So I guess I'm not happy with either extreme.

Thoughts?

Jonathan,

It's a good question you ask, and an interesting observation you make. The tendency to decouple propositional truth statements from the personality of God in order to emphasize the latter is almost too ironic to bear.

By it's very nature, speech is propositional. When we speak, we say things that can be believed, doubted, denied. I suppose it's possible to engage in non-propositional speech, but hardly any of us ever do while we're in our right minds.

On the other hand, only persons engage in speech. Animals don't speak (though some engage in some forms of communication). Inanimate objects don't speak (though they may make strong impressions upon us). In the entire universe, only persons speak.

Which means that one of the most uniquely personal things any of us can ever do is open our mouths and start talking.

Now let's apply that insight to our thinking about God.

How do we know that God is a person, rather than a force or power? And how do we know that we can actually have a relationship with that personal God? We know it because that same God has spoken to us. So far from being distancing and abstract, God's propositional speech in the Bible, and through His Son, is intrinsically intimate and personal.

As a preacher, I have to understand and believe that, and then preach His Word in light of that truth. I have an obligation to deliver the truth of God from his Word, but I also have an obligation to deliver it as the kind of speech it is. It's not a systematic theology, though it contains truth that can and should be systematized. It's not a history lesson, though it contains that. It's not a story, though it has plenty of those. Rather, it's a personal message, indeed a revelation of a Person, who desires to be known by other persons. As a preacher, I need to convey that I'm delivering something other than a lecture or 3-step plan of action. No. I'm an ambassador, speaking for a King to his subjects; I'm a best-man, speaking on behalf of a groom to his bride; I'm a brother, speaking on behalf of a Father to his children.

I remember talking to a Hindu friend of mine in college freshman year. I was explaining the gospel, and I kept using the phrase, "the Bible says..." After a while, he stopped me and asked, "Don't you think that God wrote the Bible?" I replied that though he used people as means, that yes, I thought that ultimately, what the Bible said, God said. He then said to me, "Then why don't you say, 'God says... instead of 'the Bible says...?'"

I don't think we should stop using the phrase, "the Bible says...". But I took his point, and it's stuck with me over the years. I think JI Packer has summed it up well in God Has Spoken (3rd ed, Baker, 1994):

Why has God spoken?...The truly staggering answer which the Bible gives to this question is that God's purpose in revelation is to make friends with us. It was to this end that He created us rational beings, bearing His image, able to think and hear and speak and love; He wanted there to be genuine personal affection and friendship, two-sided, between Himself and us - a relation, not like that between a man and his dog, but like that of a father to his child, or a husband to his wife.

As pastors, we can get quite concerned with the fine points of our exegesis and the details of our theology. And we should be concerned about those things. But we also need to remember that those skills and tools are given to us to use in order to help people hear the Divine Lover speak to their souls and then respond to him with their lives.

Michael,
One thing that struck me about your post is that point to God's words in Scripture to demonstrate God's personal nature in response to those that want the spiritual experience or feeling without the personal confrontation of a personal God. Interestingly, there are other circles of Christians who move in just the opposite direction: they want to de-emphasize the propositions of Scripture for the sake emphasizing God's personal nature. What you couple they want to de-couple.

Why would you say that the words and propositions of Scripture are so tremendously personal? (By this I don't mean to suggest that Scripture consists only of propositions.) I'm not asking for a professorial (e.g. epistemological etc) answer here, but a pastoral one. In other words, how do you encourage members of your church to approach all of Scripture as God's personal word to them individually and corporately?

I couldn't agree with Mike McKinley more. We've lost our faith in the power (and even necessity) of God's Word, and we've put our faith in method.

And here's one reason it matters. In abandoning God's Word for method and experience, we're playing into the hands of a growing segment of our culture that is perfectly willing to make room for transcendent experience but is utterly opposed to the notion of a personal God who reveals Himself with truth claims on our lives.

This week I was listening to the Kojo Nnamdi show on my local NPR station. Kojo was interviewing Stuart Kauffman, a bio-physicist who on the one hand argues against the reductionism of modern physics, but on the other hand rejects the traditional notion of the God of the Bible.

Then there's the article by NYT columnist David Brooks that a church member just sent me, The Neural Buddhists. Brooks, with people like Kauffman in mind though he mentions a different list, describes a new atheism that, like Buddhism, is quite comfortable with a spiritual transcendent reality, but is completely at odds with a notion of Deity that is personal and able to reveal specific doctrines that have universal application.

What does all this mean? It means that in a post-modern world, in which science itself is increasingly comfortable with the notion that it cannot explain everything we experience, people are going to be at ease with our talk of spiritual reality and attracted to our services designed to produce an experience of the transcendent. What they are not going to be comfortable with is the exclusive claims of Christ (when have they ever been?).

As Brooks notes, that means the debate is likely to shift. It will shift from a discussion of the existence of God to a debate over "faith in the Bible." If he's right, and I think he is (we've been in one form or another of this debate ever since the hermeneutical turn of the mid-20th century), then ironically, our attempts to redefine and recommend the truth of Christianity through spiritual experience, or social engagement, or aesthetic innovation will simply give comfort to the new Buddhists, who

"feel the existence of the sacred, but who think that particular religions are just cultural artifacts built on top of universal human traits."

Where do we learn that behind our experience of the transcendent stands a personal God who has revealed himself concretely in the person of Jesus Christ? Where do we learn what the will of this personal God is? Where do we discover the objective means to experiencing a subjective relationship with this God? We don't learn it from our experience, our aesthetics, or our social engagement. We learn it from Scripture, which alone is "able to make us wise unto salvation." (2 Tim 3:14-16) If in the midst of the cultural shift which this new scientific revolution is precipitating we abandon the Bible, then we will discover that we have lost the battle before it's even been engaged.

On the last day of the T4G conference in Louisville I greeted John Piper at the speaker area on the floor of the auditorium. Here's how part of our conversation went:

Matt: Would you like water on the platform for your talk?

John: Too late.

Matt: I'm sorry?

John: It's too late. I learned a long time ago that taking in water while you're preaching doesn't do any good; you have to take it in before you preach. I take in as much water as I can one hour before I preach.

Matt: Would you like to know where the restroom is? (OK, I didn't say this last line, but I really wanted to!)

I had never heard this, but it made a lot of sense so I thought I'd pass it on to all you preachers.

Another hint about water and speaking? In one of Ronald Reagan's last interviews while still in the White House he was asked what contributed to his success as the "Great Communicator"? Reagan, unlike other speakers who had cold water at their side, always had warm water at his side to loosen and relax his throat.

I now am officially tapped out on all I know about preaching and water.

I was very encouraged today by the Spurgeon quote that's been ringing in my ears since T4G. Spurgeon, speaking of Wesley and Whitefield, said something to the effect of "they may preach the gospel better, but they cannot preach a better gospel". In his sermon "All of Grace", Spurgeon attributes the quote to his grandfather.

I found great encouragement in knowing that though I am by no means the best preacher, I have the privilege of preaching the best gospel.

1. "Soft preaching makes for hard people."
2. "Preachers are the only ones in the world who can take no credit for everything we do (except the mistakes)."
3. "It's not about how cool you are, but how clear you are."

I highly recommend listening to all of Dr. MacArthur's talk entitled "The Sinner Neither Able Nor Willing".

Wright is quite a speaker. He had my attention with the introduction when he described the painting of a woman sitting on top of the world but giving an illusion of power. An illusion of power gives way to the reality of pain, he said. Before he transitioned to the text, he transitioned to the application, "Isn't that the way it is with so many of us?"

He didn't presume that everyone there would connect with the contradiction between power and pain--he allowed some listeners to keep their distance from his rhetoric--for now. The woman in the painting, the person in the pew, and Hannah from I Samuel all share "a living hell."

Wright made his point clearly:

The real lesson that Hannah gives us from this chapter, the most important word God would have us here is how to hope when the love of God is not plainly evident. Now it’s easy to hope when the evidence is all around you of how good God is but to have the audacity to hope when the love of God is not evident . . . that is the true test of a Hannah type faith . . . even though you can’t see what God is going to do, that’s the real word God would have us here . . .

However, I'm not sure he ever told us "how to hope." If his answer is "hope is what saves us" he is just wrong. If he meant to say "hope in Christ" he left the most important point unsaid. Thabiti, Mike, and Jonathan have all made it clear: Hope does not save us, Christ saves us. Hannah trusted in the promise-keeping God. Those promises are kept in Christ, those promises sustained Paul through trials. Wright mentioned Paul enduring trials but never mentioned the Christ as the one that sustained Paul through his trials and the Christ Paul proclaimed.

Finally, I share Jonathan's concern about Wright's use of "hell." Hell is worse than a spouse that leaves you, it is worse than a broken home. These things are really, really bad and ought not to made light of and must be dealt with, but they are not hell.

Thabiti, thanks for sending us the link . . . let's do it again.

Thanks for setting the scene Thabiti. My memories of those times consist largely of trying to follow the Sunday Night Football game using the internet on Ryan Townsend's cell phone. Fortunately, Ryan's sermon critiques were usually about 20 minutes long, so he never noticed I was running up his bill.

I'll admit, this wasn't at all what I expected. Given the recent media coverage, I was not prepared for how... well, winsome and warm Rev. Wright was in this sermon. The message was really easy to listen to, very literate, and even inspiring at points.

Things I appreciated:

1. He is obviously outraged at sin in the world. He is bold in speaking against institutionalized injustice and racism. He decries a world which cares about more bombs for the enemy than it does about bread for the hungry. A world that is still more concerned about the color of skin than it is about the content of character. A world more finicky about the texture of hair or what is on the outside of your head than it is about the quality of education or what is on the inside of one’s head.

2. He obviously cares deeply for his people. He is sensitive and pastoral in his sympathetic acknowledgment of his congregation's pain.

3. He encourages his people to trust in God and his love and care.

4. As Thabiti mentioned, Rev. Wright had an outstanding summary of the problem the text is dealing with: how do you continue to hope when the love of God is not plainly evident. That's both a sharp analysis and a well turned phrase.

I agree with everything Thabiti said in terms of a critique. This was a "synagogue sermon", as they say. It could have been preached in a synagogue because there was no mention of the cross or the gospel. Nothing made it a uniquely Christian sermon.

I was also surprised by the lack of a clear doctrine of sin in the sermon. As I mentioned, Rev. Wright clearly identifies institutionalized sin. He even mentions the slings and arrows that come to us from people like Peninnah. But there's no sense that the problems we face are the result of sin and the curse. Even more importantly, there is no encouragement for the listener to see (and repent of) his own sin, both in the way he responds to sin and the way he sins against others. As a result, it's never clear how God will save us or what that salvation will be like. We're just told to "hope".

OK, who's up next?

and he has just turned the volume down on his Bob Marley's greatest hits cd.  The interns are there, sitting too close for comfort on the futon.  Micahel looks comfortable with a cup of English tea, sitting in the big cush chair.  Mark has his typical perch, a rocker strategically positioned to exit into the main part of the house if needed, to grab Owen or Sibbes from a shelf to his right, or to pull the hair on an intern's leg if he's falling asleep.  Mike Law is in the black office chair, spinning around in circles gleefully whistling, "Whheeeee!" like Opie Taylor.  I look at him with mild disdain.  "Little hockey man."

Mark opens us in prayer... and the sermon review begins.  Each person takes a turn commenting on the sermon, what they appreciated, what was helpful to their own souls, what was unclear, mannerisms that were helpful or distracting, including fashion foibles best exhibited in the privacy of one's own home, helpful advice "for the next time you preach this sermon," constructive feedback on outlines, applications, illustrations and the like. 

Thus begins sermon review with visiting preacher, Dr. Jeremiah Wright.

Text: 1 Sam. 1:1-18

Time: 18 minutes

Introduction (6 min 50 seconds).  Wright began with something of a critique of Watts' painting "Hope."  I don't know that I've ever listened to a sermon that opened with a critique of a picture.  I appreciated his use of it as a foil for his treatment of Hannah's situation in 1 Samuel.  "The illusion of power gives way to the reality of pain."  I also appreciated that Wright brought this home in the introduction by pointing to some cases of people "living in a quiet hell" (wife living with the unfaithful husband; divorced families having their dreams "blown to bits;" college students who seem to have everything but are empty, shallow, hurting and lonely).  Just painting these contemporary faces onto the premise helped stage the main applications.

I'm guessing that if there was an outline to the sermon it was "Hannah experienced the pain of (I) a bitter woman to contend with (v. 7); and (II) a barren womb."  Did anyone catch a clearer outline?

Other things I appreciated: Wright's use of language, very vivid and easy to remember with the alliteration at points.  I appreciated the exhortatoin to keep on praying.  He said the real lesson was "How to hope when the love of God is not plainly evident."  Hannah was "barren in her womb, but fertile in spirit."  That's a pastorally helpful idea, but apart from the simple exhortation to keep praying, he didn't at all unpack how to hope when the love of God is not evident.  Would've been helpful to do so, I think.  Last, I appreciated the touch of traditional African American songs at the end of the sermon. 

Main critiques:

1.  No gospel.  He pointed out that "hope is what saves us" but didn't point to the Object of Hope, Christ Jesus or define "hope" in any biblical categories.  No cross, atonement, repentance, faith, etc. in the appeal.

2.  I appreciated the references to other women suffering the pain of barrenness (2 Kings 4; Gen. 16; Luke 1) and the couple of references to Paul, but I would have appreciated closer attention to 1 Sam. 1 and it's meaning in context and in redemptive history.  I gathered some helpful pastoral themes from the sermon, but I don't think I came away better understanding the actual text.

Thanks for encouraging us to hope. 

Mark reclines in his chair, which given that his proportions are roughly similar to my own, must be made of reinforced titanium... or he is secretly bringing in new but identical chairs each Sunday night.  He has been pretending to listen thoughtfully as I spoke... slighly furrowed brow, nibbling on one corner of the morning's service bulletin the way people with glasses sometimes put the tip of one arm of their glasses into their mouths.  "Thank you, Thabiti," he says in a tone just shy of rushed, clearly signaling that it's now someone else's turn.