Doing something foolish

I spend a lot of my time foolishly. Sometimes I wish I could stop, but it seems to come from deep within me. Most people don’t understand why I give so much energy to it. Sometimes it even causes me pain. I’d love to stop, but it’s a part of my DNA, maybe even my “calling”.

I am a preacher.

I’m not alone in my assessment of preaching. Those outside the church see it as a royal waste of time at best, and at worst, a way to manipulate by shoveling guilt on mindless listeners. Even those in the church make jokes about the sermon. “If all the people who feel asleep listening to sermons were laid end to end…they’d be a lot more comfortable!”

You’d think the one place I could find support would be among my own, but even many of my colleagues question the validity of what we do. Some are calling it a thing of the past. They see the sermon as a relic that is best put on the shelf. Keep it polished and dusted so that people can appreciate it, but it really has no practical use. They keep saying that there is no value in one person speaking to the multitudes. All spiritual journeys are different. How can one man speak with any authority in the spiritual lives of others? We need to journey together and that means that no one gets to talk more than anyone else, right? Anything else would be foolish.

The Apostle Paul used an interesting word for what we do – “foolishness”. (I Cor. 1:18). But he was quick to clarify, It’s foolish, but not to those who actually hear it. Not to those whose lives are transformed. And maybe that’s the heart of the problem. We see a lot of preaching in North America, but we’re not so overwhelmed by the transformation. If anything, preaching is more accessible than ever, thanks to the TV, internet, IPODs, etc. Moral character and Christ-likeness, however, seem to be in short supply. One of the reasons many have given up on preaching is that it seems to be so ineffective. We’ve all spent time listening to a great orator motivate us to be what we all really want to be, but something happens on Tuesday afternoon, when the words and emotions of Sunday seem so far away. If preaching is valuable, and I believe it is, then it needs to do more than just talk. It needs to transform. Lives need to change. And that’s a tall order. (I have some thoughts about how that transformation happens, but I save them for a later post.)

For now let's just say, contrary to much popular opinion, it's something that I still believe is worth giving my life to.

I found a good quote this week (thanks to Unashamed Workman) that was obviously written by a person who understands this weird thing that preachers do.

“The pulpit calls those who are appointed to it like the sea calls its sailor; and like the sea, it batters and bruises, and it does not rest….To preach, to really preach, is to die naked a little at a time, and to know that each time you do it, that you must do it again.” (Bruce Thielmann)

So I'll keep at it. And love it. Even when nobody understands why.