Five years ago (!) I wrote an article on the sacrament of preaching, drawing on Bonhoeffer's Worldly Preaching lectures. I've come to believe that the sermon on Sunday morning may be one of
the Church's most important evangelistic tools. For a person off the
street, who normally isn't a church-goer but has happened to wander in
to our pews, the worship may be a challenge. We sing music that is very
different from what you hear on the radio. We participate in a liturgy
that is ancient and strange with a ritual meal that probably seems
confusing and awkward. We read from texts that were written thousands of
years ago.
In the midst of all that strangeness, I think the sermon is probably our one chance to really connect with this visitor. It is our one opportunity to bridge the gap between ancients texts and life today and to demonstrate that the Church does have something meaningful (even helpful) to say. It is our moment to bring Good News of healing, hope, and peace, in the midst of a fast-paced chaotic world.
We cannot and must not squander that moment. I think it's important that the Church invest in good preaching as a way of reaching out to those who need to hear God speaking. Already there is great work going on. The Episcopal Preaching has been trying to create future generations of great preachers, and there are even rumors that the once defunct College of Preachers is being reestablished.
At every priest's ordination there comes a moment when the Bishop presents a Bible to the newly ordained with these words, "Receive this Bible as a sign of the authority given to you to preach the Word of God and to administer his holy Sacraments. Do not forget the trust committed to you as a priest of the Church of God".
Although the prayer book frequently makes mention of the ministry of "Word and Sacrament", sadly homiletics -- the craft of preaching -- has not always had as much attention in the Episcopal Church as the sacramental, liturgical side. (Or for that matter, even as much as the social justice, mission and outreach side.)
That's tragic because, like I said, preaching is so important. As I insisted in that article -- and to scores of preaching students I've taught and mentored over the years -- our words are sacramental, too, like the bread and wine and water. They are outward and audible signs of inward and spiritual grace.
I was blessed to have some amazing mentors in preaching over the years. The Rev. Dr. William Cope, the Rev. Dr. Will Willimon, the Rev. Dr. Richard Lischer, the Rev. Dr. Bruce Shields, and the Rev. Dr. Bill Brosend, for whom I served as a teaching assistant in graduate school. They all took preaching very seriously, and taught me to do the same.
Not, of course, that they taught me to take myself seriously. Preachers who are self-conscious cannot preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But they did teach me to take word-care seriously -- a stewardship of what and how I spoke, because those words in preaching are words that proclaim Jesus in the flesh, here and now, or they don't.
Bill Brosend particularly played a significant role in how I think about preaching, and how I preach. Bill frequently reminded us that the goal in every sermon was to answer what he called "the Homiletical Question" (the title of his new book): What is the Holy Spirit saying to the people of God through these readings on this occasion? There is an art and skill to effective preaching, that's true, but one must never underestimate the ability of God's Spirit to take what are plain words strewn together and to make out of them a living message that touches us to the core.
Some years ago I was tasked to teach a course in Oral Communications. It was a course I felt entirely unprepared and unqualified to teach, because it was part of the general education sequence of courses for students. I only had coursework in preaching, so I wasn't sure I was prepared to teach a speech class. But I taught it in large ways the same as I would teach the first part of preaching -- a focus on the rhetorical arts and learning to pay attention to words, the audience and the speaker. The interaction between those three is the context for any good communication. Would that preachers might recover that.
And learn to listen to the Spirit more.
Because our words either embody and proclaim Jesus, or they don't.
In the midst of all that strangeness, I think the sermon is probably our one chance to really connect with this visitor. It is our one opportunity to bridge the gap between ancients texts and life today and to demonstrate that the Church does have something meaningful (even helpful) to say. It is our moment to bring Good News of healing, hope, and peace, in the midst of a fast-paced chaotic world.
We cannot and must not squander that moment. I think it's important that the Church invest in good preaching as a way of reaching out to those who need to hear God speaking. Already there is great work going on. The Episcopal Preaching has been trying to create future generations of great preachers, and there are even rumors that the once defunct College of Preachers is being reestablished.
At every priest's ordination there comes a moment when the Bishop presents a Bible to the newly ordained with these words, "Receive this Bible as a sign of the authority given to you to preach the Word of God and to administer his holy Sacraments. Do not forget the trust committed to you as a priest of the Church of God".
Although the prayer book frequently makes mention of the ministry of "Word and Sacrament", sadly homiletics -- the craft of preaching -- has not always had as much attention in the Episcopal Church as the sacramental, liturgical side. (Or for that matter, even as much as the social justice, mission and outreach side.)
That's tragic because, like I said, preaching is so important. As I insisted in that article -- and to scores of preaching students I've taught and mentored over the years -- our words are sacramental, too, like the bread and wine and water. They are outward and audible signs of inward and spiritual grace.
I was blessed to have some amazing mentors in preaching over the years. The Rev. Dr. William Cope, the Rev. Dr. Will Willimon, the Rev. Dr. Richard Lischer, the Rev. Dr. Bruce Shields, and the Rev. Dr. Bill Brosend, for whom I served as a teaching assistant in graduate school. They all took preaching very seriously, and taught me to do the same.
Not, of course, that they taught me to take myself seriously. Preachers who are self-conscious cannot preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But they did teach me to take word-care seriously -- a stewardship of what and how I spoke, because those words in preaching are words that proclaim Jesus in the flesh, here and now, or they don't.
Bill Brosend particularly played a significant role in how I think about preaching, and how I preach. Bill frequently reminded us that the goal in every sermon was to answer what he called "the Homiletical Question" (the title of his new book): What is the Holy Spirit saying to the people of God through these readings on this occasion? There is an art and skill to effective preaching, that's true, but one must never underestimate the ability of God's Spirit to take what are plain words strewn together and to make out of them a living message that touches us to the core.
Some years ago I was tasked to teach a course in Oral Communications. It was a course I felt entirely unprepared and unqualified to teach, because it was part of the general education sequence of courses for students. I only had coursework in preaching, so I wasn't sure I was prepared to teach a speech class. But I taught it in large ways the same as I would teach the first part of preaching -- a focus on the rhetorical arts and learning to pay attention to words, the audience and the speaker. The interaction between those three is the context for any good communication. Would that preachers might recover that.
And learn to listen to the Spirit more.
Because our words either embody and proclaim Jesus, or they don't.