I used to be a preacher. My week was dominated by the sermon. I’d study for it on Tuesday. Make notes about on Wednesday. Write it out on Thursday. Revise it on Friday. Get nervous about it on Saturday. Preach it Sunday. Question it on Monday. Then start it all over again.
I followed that cycle for twelve years, until about four months ago. Since then I’ve only preached four times. My life is not dominated by the sermon anymore. This is a good thing. As a church launcher (I prefer this term over church “planter”), I’m spending more time with people and no time with the sermon. This may seem like an odd thing for a preacher to say, but you might be surprised how easy it is for a preacher to use the sermon as an excuse to duck people, especially if your sermons are pretty good. Most Christians will cut their preacher a lot of relational slack if it means they don’t have to listen to a boring sermon on Sunday. If you’re not a very good preacher, then you better be a good minister to people though. That’s the trade off in most churches I know.
I’ve always been a better preacher to people than a minister to people and I’ve gotten away with it because I don’t usually preach boring sermons. In my new life as a church launcher, no one in Austin cares what kind of preacher I am. The quality of my ministry right now is measured solely by the quality of my relationships with people who haven’t heard me preach. I’m finding it to be a wonderful experience. Set free from feeling the pressure to be a good preacher, I’m learning to be a good friend, neighbor, and workout partner to the people around me.
I miss preaching. I miss the times of study filled with curiosity and discovery. I miss the “aha” moments when I am given a creative way to make a point. I miss standing before a crowd on Sundays and sharing the fruit of my study, thinking, praying, and creativity. I don’t miss the nervous Saturday nights though. Saturday night has always been my least favorite part of being a preacher. I think it may be a sign that I’ve always taken myself too seriously as a preacher.
I hope and believe that someday I’ll stand before a crowd of people here in Austin and use my teaching gifts once again. I look forward to that day. Until then, I’m going to let God continue to teach me what I’ve been so slow to learn so far. The people were not created for the sermon, the sermon was created for the people. I love preaching sermons. I’m learning to love people!
Telling Stories, Asking Questions, Learning Lessons
Yes, I’ve known ministers who were not good at producing and delivering sermons but who were good “people persons” and were appreciated for that quality. Your comment about curiosity and the joy of discovery applies to preparation for teaching class too. Sometimes, when I get to choose the material, I’ll select something to teach for which I don’t know much about and want to learn more.
Great post, Wade. I appreciated your honest insight. Thanks for the encouragment today to focus on what really matters.
Jay
Thanks for putting some things into perspective for others to consider.
I appreciated your thoughts and the heart of the matter. One day though, I suspect you will indeed stand again every Sunday in the pulpit of a church in Austin. As the Lord prepares for that I pray that you be granted the ability to be able to prepare a meaty meal for the flock and also care for flock throughout the week. I don’t know any of us (preachers) who don’t wrestle with this to some degree.
In the past few months I have read “Preaching on Your Feet” by Fred Lybrand, which offered a more flexible routine for sermon preparation. Although much of his work conflicts with some of the homiletical principles I practice and teach my students, I found a few of his comments helpful particularly as it relates to the postmodern path of faith which you have been reading about and presenting the message to them.
Ouch, this hurts a bit. You’re stepping on some toes here. I love your line about the people were not created for the sermon, but the sermon was created for people. This was a painfully good reminder. Thanks Wade.
Many, many, many, many preachers/ministers need to read this. It goes back to that old, tired, but very true proverb that people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.
Hi, Wade. Hope all’s going well in Austin.
I think (hope) that as I’ve gotten older and more experienced in ministry, balancing the two areas you mentioned has become easier.
You can do both – preach effective sermons and love people one on one. Jesus did. So did Paul.
Encouraging post.
I can tolerate a lot of weak preaching by a preacher who cares about people much longer than I can tolerate an excellent preacher who cares about his sermons.
Wade, you are also a very good teacher. I had to put on my Wade Hodges thinking hat several times these past three weeks in China while ministering to a group of masters level biology grad students. You teachings on the Kingdom of Heaven your first few months at Garnett came flooding back to mind as I allowed the Holy Spirit to use me to bridge the gap between their science backgroung and His story of passionate and redemptive love.
Throwing the heat. This blog post came at me like a 102 mph fastball, high and tight.
I feel the tension every week. I can no longer write sermons from my office. I want to write sermons from lived-experiences. I spend time in a text–praying over it, wrestling with it, reading about it, and trying to understand the context and purpose. But I’m trying to form practices of hearing the text outside of the building. I want to see passages of Scripture come to life. I’m eager to write sermons “in” the world…literally; from coffee houses and soup kitchens and college campuses and AIDS clinics and burial places where infants are buried. I don’t just want to write from safe places surrounded by commentaries and scholarly work (though this stuff is helpful). I’m on a journey of learning to write sermons from the margins…among people…engaged in the world.
Thanks for the post!
Thanks so much for this post, Wade. Jonathan’s right – This was a painful reality check for us preachers. I especially appreciate your line, “set free from feeling the pressure to be a good preacher.” I want to be set free from that pressure, too.
What a great wakeup call for all of us to try to smell more like sheep, Shepherd Wade!
I’ve tried to share some similar thinking with close friends recently, but coming from the opposite side of the pulpit, the comments can too easily be interpreted as anti-pastor.
Isn’t it a shame that its usually the body’s inappropriate expectation that the majority of a pastor’s responsibility is the preaching–the seminary sure seems to hammer in the same message. Imagine how freeing it could be for a pastor to not have the 16+ hours per week in preparation for a 45 minutes of inspiration/conviction/encouragement/instruction/reproof/humor…all wrapped into one message. I keep going back to Paul’s admonition to let two or three speak…along with our singing and prayer.
(BTW, the online sermons I heard show your study and preparation certainly weren’t, and still arent’, wasted!)
This is why my church has four preachers who rotate weekly. I only have to prepare for one sermon a month and the occasional speaking gig somewhere else. 🙂
Wade- Great words. I am in the “business” world after 14 years of “paid ministry”- 6 of them preaching. It has been refreshing experiencing much of what you write here. Also some good “identity” formation. Just taught a series at Central in Amarillo on Wednesday nights last December and it was refreshing to teach again… my approach has changed much… like you mentioned. May God continue to bless you in this season.