Showing posts with label sermon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sermon. Show all posts

Sunday, 11 October 2015

Secrets of a real life preacher

So, you're a preacher.

When you were a keen lay person, and not yet a minister, perhaps you got the chance to preach once in a while. It was great - you had about 4 weeks notice or more; you read widely, chewed the theme over, made some notes, felt on top of things, felt quite inspired and even a bit holy, wrote out your sermon and practised it in front of the mirror till you were word perfect.

It's a bit different now you're a fully paid up preacher. That sermon comes round far too soon every week. Unless you're one of those preachers who has a large staff to do all the other ministry tasks for you, so that you can spend the elusive 'hour per minute' on your sermon prep, you'll probably have some sympathy for the following two scenarios. Neither is fictional, both are recent, and in each case, I initially plumped for one option when in fact the other was the only one that (in hindsight) worked. 

I wonder which options you would have taken?


SCENARIO 1.
Despite reserving some time in your diary for sermon preparation, it's somehow got eaten into bit by bit till you suddenly arrive at nearly the weekend and you have no sermon. It's late afternoon, you've finally extricated yourself from admin; you tell yourself, 'now is the time, I'll never get round to it unless I do it now'.....it's after lunch and all the blood has gone to your stomach, leaving nothing in your brain. But you MUST write something NOW. But you're so tired............Do you:

1) Sit and stare at the computer screen and spend the next two hours fretting about being unproductive. Afterwards you still have no sermon but you do have a headache, feel grumpy and are too tired to cook the supper properly. 


2) Sleep. 
Somehow you'll wake up feeling a lot better and inspiration will always come along if you have the energy. You'll be amazed how clear your head is now and somehow more minutes will be found that you didn't otherwise envisage. You'll even enjoy putting something down on paper with your renewed energy, maybe between phone calls, cake making and a TV programme, but it'll be good...

SCENARIO 2.
You have to prepare an All Age talk for Harvest on Matthew 6: Jesus' teaching on 'Do not worry'. You don't really know who will be at the all age service because all age congregations are like the 'Marmite' of church life: they're either strangely and inexplicably empty, or encouragingly bang full of lovely people you've never seen before. But you never know which till you process in. This is normal. As far as children are concerned, you're haunted by the time you prepared an 'all age' fun song that involved jumping up and down and generally making a fool of yourself; and no children came. In addition, last night you had a dream where you found yourself at home on a Sunday morning and you suddenly looked at the clock and realised the service had started 2 minutes ago and you're still in your pyjamas. Furthermore in the dream your house was in a terrible mess, all the furniture was upside down and covered in dust sheets, and you couldn't find any of the things you'd prepared for the all age service; neither the music, the talk, the visual aids nor the notice sheets.  Not only could you not move your legs about normally in the dream; you couldn't actually speak either, only moan incoherently: 'please, someone help me'. 

How do you approach this task?

1) Ignore the entire point of the reading and WORRY.

2) Remember that the point of church is to witness to the presence of Jesus and he said 'do not worry' for a reason, and anyway it's bad for your health AND a bad witness; and actually you have no idea of people's lives; if they can come, they'll come; if they can't they won't. But very likely someone will be there, and they will hopefully encounter God there, and that's His work anyway; and we're called to be faithful, not 'successful'. So put something together that can be adapted as need be. Put the dream behind you and enjoy the people who do come. And above all, don't worry.

As it says in the Good Book: 'Physician, heal thyself'.


Saturday, 13 October 2012

Preaching pains

When I started out after Ordination
I didn't think preaching on a weekly basis would affect me in the ways that it has.

I'd probably preached around seven or eight times before my Curacy began and they were isolated sermons; one here, one there, so I'd never got into any rhythm. They were one off occasions and whist I enjoyed them nothing prepared me for  the pressure of having to come up with something spiritually coherent week in week out and the effect it would have on me.

It's like a kind of overshadowing. It starts on Tuesday after I've had a day off Monday.

Monday I don't think about preaching at all. I don't even think about the fact that I'm not thinking about it.

Tuesday I look at the lectionary readings and think 'Oh no.'

Wednesday I get round to printing them out on a sheet entitled 'Sermon for...' in the hope that in 3 years time I might have built up an archive which can be reused.

Thursday. This is the day I start to feel the weight of the reading. How can I possibly presume to preach on this subject?

Money, wealth and possessions. I am guilty of avarice.

Wisdom and taming the tongue. I still say things I wish I hadn't.

Gratitude for the Harvest. Give me supermarkets. I have nothing to do with farm life: I don't even like cows. 

Thursday night. I feel uninspired generally. And unholy. Because what makes a great preacher, according to Phillip Brookes (1835-1893) is not skill, but character.

This is the nub. I thought it would be about knowledge, experience, rhetoric, funny anecdotes.

These things figure, but nothing replaces what a preacher can bring through what he or she is becoming in Christ.

Friday. Sermon writing day. I think about it over breakfast. I have maybe gathered a few bits to feed into it by now. I mull it over and try and make connections with life. Meetings, admin and parish stuff comes and goes through the day. The phone rings. The emails pop in and out. I sit at the desk. I'd like to say that hours later I have a well crafted, scholarly and spiritually insightful offering that I'm delighted with and proud to offer.

But mostly it's just a lesson in how far I fall short, how little time I have for drafting and redrafting something of beauty and how tired I am on Saturday when I finally sit down to finish it off and print it out ready for Sunday.

But in the process I have been obliged to be disciplined whether I felt like engaging with the bible or not. I have sat under it, metaphorically speaking. I have encountered something living. I am not unchanged. I have had to remember that before I can offer it I have to struggle with it; that by grace, week after week, it isn't really just me doing the talking. I'm not crafting it. It's crafting me.

Sunday, 1 July 2012

God's fuzzy boundaries

I'm not too bad at boundaries. I wrote about them last week.
I have quite a few in place - I want to be a Minister for the long haul; don't burn out; protect the family; observe your day off.
I have read a really scary book about clergy burn out called 'The Cracked Pot.'
My boundaries are generally eminently sensible.
But what if they might be a bit too sensible?


For example, I have always protected some time to write my sermon each week.
This week it just didn't work.
A reunion; a funeral; visitors; Regatta; end of term; a late night train trip...I could feel stress rising and control of the diary slipping hopelessly.
It was Saturday evening when I realised the sermon wasn't going to get written.


And then there's wearing the dog collar: I do when I'm being 'Minister'; when I'm shopping, picking up kids, or travelling socially I generally don't. 
But for various reasons I spent all day Saturday in it. 
Across London on the Tube; through a major city; eating at Nando's. The occasion called for it and it seemed right, but again it blurred my boundaries.


After that major day on Saturday I was very late to bed and up early Sunday for two Holy Communions. Not sensible.
So I had no sermon at 9.30am Parish Communion save what was in my head. I hadn't really 'prayed about' either service.
My careful plans to allocate time to important things had been interrupted all week.
So I blundered in. I preached with no notes. It was the least prepared I'd ever been for a Sunday morning.
And yet it was a really great Sunday!
It was joyful. It was enjoyable.
It felt spontaneous and hopeful.

So I'm thinking maybe God is less boundaried than I am.
I'm pondering whether boundaries, those oh so sensible things we have in place (and especially we 'part timers') need to be breached from time to time to remind us the flow comes from the Spirit and He blows where He wills. Some things may be unexpected.




The gospel reading today was about Jesus being hassled and boundaries being breached; the touch of a haemorrhaging woman significantly interrupted his journey to a dying girl. Ritual uncleanness and death.
Jesus didn't hesitate in crossing both boundaries with willing openness.


A little less planning and a little more trusting then.





Sunday, 23 October 2011

aaaaagggggghhhhhhh, the sermon.
















The sermon. 

Long, short, boring or riveting, at some point in an Anglican service the priest is expected to stand up and spout. As an exercise in balancing bible with current events; doctrine with experience, it's pretty challenging. Cardinal sins: too much personal information/too little personal information; too much enthusiasm/too little enthusiasm; for a mother - talking about your children too much, especially if they are unfortunate enough to be in the congregation. Evangelicals like 'em long; middle of the road-ers are happy with 10 minutes; Catholically-minded brethren insist on calling them homilies (?) Increasingly I'm wondering how they sit with education theory and practice which rightly values interactive learning. Didn't Jesus do something along those lines too? I sometimes come home and imagine what would have happened if I had just stood up and asked a whole lot of awkward questions that needed debate, stirred things up a bit. After wanging on for a while and noticing that some are looking at the floor/ceiling/have head in hands (clearly responding in profound repentance so that's okay) I do wonder sometimes....and Anglicans are so polite - you never can gauge a response ('Nice sermon, thank you').
So what are people expecting from a sermon? (Thoughts welcome) and what is the general point of it? (Thoughts welcome) And as for the pulpit - in this egalitarian, de-constructing, post-modern era, is it not a totally anachronistic piece of church architecture? Or am I just stirring things up a bit?