Repaying an Old Debt

Dr. Lloyd Perry was my homiletics professor at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in the late '60s and early '70s. As I relate in the letter below, he used to drive me crazy with his obsession with how sermons should be written — and his requirement that every sermon written or preached in class follow precisely his prescribed forms.

However, years later — again as I describe in the letter — I realized what Dr. Perry was really up to: he was giving us a strong foundation for sermon construction that I am sure he knew we would gradually shape for ourselves. But at least we would know how to put a well-crafted sermon together. When that "revelation" hit me, I determined to write Dr. Perry and thank him for how much he had influenced my life as a preacher. Sadly, before I got around to doing that, Dr. Perry died, and I felt sad that I had never thanked him.

But today I met someone who not only knew Dr. Perry but knows his widow well (she's 95), and he gave me her address. So I just wrote her the following letter:

Dear Mrs. Perry,

I was a student of your husband’s at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in 1969 and 1970. And, I must tell you in all honesty, he drove me crazy. As you know, he was extremely meticulous in how he wanted us to construct our sermons; and while I never had the courage to tell him this personally, I thought he was forcing us into some sort of artificial sermonic straitjacket! And, for a while after I graduated and was pastoring my first church, I rather prided myself in NOT preaching “Perry Sermons!” 

But as time went on, and my sermonic preparation (and humility!) improved, I was somewhat shocked to realize that, more often than not, my sermons were beginning more or less to follow the approach that Dr. Perry had taught us. But more than that, I began to understand that what he had been doing was not inflicting on us a not-to-be-tinkered-with absolute system of sermon construction, but rather he was giving us this wonderful tool for approaching the Biblical text that he expected us to take and shape and make our own. 

At that point, I decided I needed to write Dr. Perry and thank him for the amazing foundation for preaching that he had so patiently instilled in me (and maybe even apologize for all those thoughts I’d had as a very young and inexperienced student, way too proud for his own good!). But, sadly, in the busyness of that time in my life, I never got around to it. And when I saw the notice of his death in the Trinity newsletter, I felt terrible that I had never written him. 

I am in his debt for so many aspects of my pastoral ministry, not just preaching. To this day, I tell young pastors not to make any changes in their church during the first year of their ministry and to figure out who the “church boss” in their congregation is (I found mine within hours of my arrival at my congregation — fortunately a good man who didn’t abuse the power that people had conferred on him. But I knew I needed to make him my friend if I wanted to get anything done). By contrast, every time I don’t  wear a white dress shirt on Sunday morning, I think of Dr. Perry and wonder if he’s frowning! And it took me years ... years before I would wear anything but a formal suit on Sunday morning. I still wear a suit or sports coat — I can’t imagine what he would say if I tried to get away with what some are wearing in the pulpit these days. And you will be pleased to know that I never step into the pulpit with unshined shoes! I say all this, of course, with such warm feelings for my old mentor, and am consoled by the thought that from his present perch he is able to laugh with me — or, more likely, to be so distracted by his conversations with Jesus and others that he scarcely has time to think of his former students or life at TEDS. But I still felt badly that I had never taken the time to actually thank him for what he had meant to me all these years.

So when, by “chance” I met Dan this afternoon, and he asked me what seminary I had gone to, and I mentioned TEDS, he said, “Did you ever know a Dr. Perry?” I exploded with memories, as I’ve shared with you, and told him that I’d always regretted not sending that letter of thanks to him. And then when Dan related that he had known Dr. Perry and you — and knew your address — you can’t imagine how excited I was! 

Your husband was and is such a formative part of my pastoral life, that when I retired earlier this year after 42 years of ministry, including 37 years at my last church, his book on sermon construction was one of a very few that I kept. (Tears are coming as I think of him even now.)Most of the other books — about 3/4 of them — I gave away or sold. But two books, one by your husband and a signed copy of a Romans commentary by Richard Longenecker, I kept soley because I cherished the memories of those fine and influential men and so appreciate their effect on my personal and pastoral life.

You know, far more than I, what a gracious and caring man your husband was. He was not just a brilliant scholar and teacher but a warm Christian gentleman who wished that his students bring a measure of “class” to their pastoral work. I shall always be grateful that he was my teacher, and I am so thankful to be able to share my memories of him with you.

I pray that our great God will continue to bless you in abundance!

Long Term Becomes Short Term!

After 6 months of stress-free living, I have accepted a position as an intentional interim at a church very similar (at least in many ways) to the one I retired from. The scary thing is that I feel reasonably competent to do this job (in distinction to my normal Moses mode — "Here am I, Lord, send Aaron, because this is more than I can handle.") Hopefully, that's a sign of maturity not hubris! I've met a number of people and feel very comfortable with them, and they seem to be equally comfortable with me; so we'll see how it goes. Sunday will be my first preaching experience here which doesn't bother me in the least, but we're having communion this week, and the choreography is fairly demanding. Complicating it all is my preference to do most of the communion liturgy from memory. I'm praying for a calm heart and a clear mind!

The new Adventure begins....

Back in the Saddle!

So it's been four months since I retired, and I recently received an invitation to serve as fill-in preacher at a local church. I accepted with the idea that I would simply dust off an old sermon (after all, I have lots!) and re-preach it. Simple and painless.

But then, as I was worshiping at another church this past weekend, the pastor read a passage from 2 Kings and my mind took off. I don't remember much of what he said, because my mind was racing in other directions as I thought about the implications of that text for my "new" church later this month.

All of which is to say I spent today working through that text for myself and coming up with a new sermon for my fill-in opportunity. I guess I hadn't realized how much this wonderful process of listening to the text so I can explain it to my people has been burned into my bones! Second hand is just not good enough.

(On the other hand, I still have no regrets about my decision to retire! This is fun — literally — not work!)

One Month Into Retirement

I've been retired for one month, and while additional time may bring different perspectives, I am thoroughly enjoying my new life! That tells me a couple of things:

1) It was time. Retired friends had always said to me, "You'll know when it's time." And I did!

2) The ease with which I've been able to let go has surprised me. A retired colleague attending my retirement party cautioned me that not only would the church family grieve, but I would especially grieve. "One day you're this important figure in all these people's lives, and the next day you wake up and you're a nobody," he said. It takes a while for a pastor to work though that transition. Well, maybe; but I haven't felt that way yet! (I certainly went through some grieving in the months following my announcement, and perhaps that anticipatory grief prepared the way for how I feel now.)

All this confirms for me a truth I have always felt deep in my soul — that despite my extended tenure there, I never thought of it as my church. People often called it, "your church," and I probably even called it, "my church" from time to time, but I never felt possessive; I never felt it really was mine. So, while I wish the best for "my people" that I've left behind, I do not in the least feel a need to keep my fingers in the pot, nor am I threatened by the inevitable changes that will come.

It's Jesus' church, and He'll take care of it and me just fine.

Early Post-Retirement Thoughts

A friend encouraged me to enlarge on some comments I made to the congregation at our retirement celebration.

Some have asked — as they saw the books in my office grow fewer and fewer — if it was a hard process for me to clean out my office. While I had a few sad moments, I found it all surprisingly enjoyable. Almost immediately after announcing my retirement plans last November, I began to cull out books that I intended to give away, throw away, or sell. That only took a few days, because even though you accumulate lots of books, you only need a few. (A lesson I had learned years ago, during a building program in which I had to store nearly all my books for almost a year. I thought it would be unbearable, but I made it through the year with just one bookcase and, as a result, ended up giving away about half of my collection. From that point on, I deliberately limited the book space in my office, giving away, selling, or throwing away an old book before adding a new one.)

Next, I turned to cleaning out my file cabinet. Because I had been collecting materials since my high school days, I assumed this would be a weeks-long process, but it took perhaps an afternoon and a half as I tossed file after file into the recycling bin (finally they would be put to good use!) and came across the occasional serendipitous find (like my candidating sermon from 1978 that I re-preached in my final service at the church).

There was for me something cleansing about getting rid of all these old files that I no longer needed (and probably, for the most part, never did) and those old books that had outlived their usefulness. And then it dawned on me why this whole process had not been that difficult: ministry is not about books and files and plaques on the wall, it's about people. I used books, but I don't love my books. Like tools, I used some of those files, but I never cherished them. Rather, as I told our folks that Sunday afternoon, "It's you I love, and it's you I will miss."

The End of the Term!

After 36 1/2 years at the same church and 42 years in pastoral ministry, I have retired. And I must say I am enjoying it! I know that some believe pastors should never retire, but I was ready. I no longer have the energy to cheer-lead the growth and change that need to come, and I didn't want to be the one about whom people said, "Too bad he didn't leave a year or two sooner!" 

When I was younger I worried about burning out; now I discover that I have worn out! I am sure, after a bit of R & R, that I will do something — fill pulpits, work as an interim, maybe push carts at Walmart (!) — one needs a reason to get up in the morning. But, for now, I am quite content to putter around our home and cottage and wake up in the morning with no particular place to go.

I am so grateful to our people who made my retirement celebration such a joy — as they have made my ministry a joy for so many years. Their cards and notes made us laugh and cry and reminded me that we touched lives in ways we had never imagined.

But now it's time for the next stage of God's great plan for us. This term — as long as wonderful as it has been — is over, and a new term begins. As one of my colleagues reminded me recently, I had said I wanted to finish well — to complete my ministry here, still loving Jesus and my wife. That I have done! But, God willing, I still have some years left in this world, and I want to finish those just as well.

So the adventure begins ....

On my final Sunday at the church, I gave our people a collection of answers to questions (about theology, the Bible, life) they had asked me over the years. Here's the last answer in that collection:

If you could go back and talk to your 26-year old self (when you began in pastoral ministry), what would you tell him? 

I’d tell him that life and ministry are going to be incredibly more difficult than he could ever imagine — that the essence of ministry is suffering — but to relax and enjoy the ride, because God is incredibly more gracious and patient than he could possibly believe. I’d tell him to exchange his fear for faith and his self-reliance for humility — to trust in God’s power and plan. I’d tell him not to be so dependent on success nor discouraged by failures, because the one is a fleeting vapor and the other a constant companion, and above both stand the sovereign purposes of God that none of us will fully figure out in our lifetimes. I’d tell him to rest every day on God’s incredible grace.

I’d tell him not to work so hard (even though I know he wouldn’t listen) and to slow down and enjoy God’s good earth — to plant a tree and watch it grow (which, fortunately, he would manage to do on many occasions) — and to enjoy God’s good people who will be all around him, loving him and cheering him on. (And I’d tell him to pay less attention to those who don’t!) I’d tell him to trust his gut more and not worry so much about what others think — to be the person and pastor God had made rather than trying to be a clone of someone else or someone else’s vision of what a husband/father/pastor should be. I’d tell him to get out of the office and into the community (which I think he would do reasonably well) so non-church members could see that a pastor is actually a fairly normal person. 

I’d also tell him that during the span of his ministerial career, dozens of Christian “fads” (“models” is probably a kinder word) will cross his path — relational theology, WWJD, Body Life, Evangelism Explosion, lifestyle evangelism, Promise Keepers, spiritual warfare, second coming fever, church growth, small groups, Purpose Driven Church, spiritual disciplines, Sonship ministry, the worship wars, the culture wars — to name a few. I’d tell him to take whatever good he can from any of these but to see none of them as the answer. They will pass, and the next generation will introduce its own suite of programs, but the Word of God transcends fads and programs and generations; and so more than anything else, he needs to major on the Word. I’d tell him (as Dick Lucas would put it) to “hold the line." 

Tom Ascol has served as a pastor for 35 years, the past 28 with the same congregation. In a recent blog post he recounted what he has learned. While I would probably use slightly different words, I found myself nodding in agreement over most of his points:

Thirty-five years ago this month I began serving my first church as pastor. The Rock Prairie Baptist Church in College Station, Texas took a major risk on a senior Texas A&M student by issuing me a call to be their pastor. It was my happy privilege to serve them for nearly two years before being called to the Spring Valley Baptist Church in Dallas. I am currently in my twenty-eighth year of serving Grace Baptist Church in Cape Coral, Florida.

As I recently reflected on the last thirty-five years I wrote down some lessons learned and convictions I’ve come to or continued to hold. Here are thirty-five of them.

1. Long-term perspective helps you to endure and to think wisely about immediate problems.
2. The kingdom of God does not—and will not—skip a beat when I am sidelined.
3. The church is more important than I thought when I started.
4. Some of my words and actions to which I am most oblivious can be hurtful to people.
5. Pastoral ministry is indeed, as John Newton puts it, “a bitter full of sweet” and “a sorrow full of joy.”
6. Christians are the greatest people in the world.
7. Christians are capable of the most wicked actions in the world.
8. My greatest challenge at the beginning of my ministry continues to be dealing with my own heart.
9. An excellent wife is the greatest earthly gift I have, and she is more excellent than I ever could have imagined.
10. True friends are rare and invaluable.
11. Some of the most outwardly religious people can be the biggest hypocrites.
12. It is nearly impossible for a man who marries poorly to make it in the ministry.
13. Some of the most humble, unassuming saints provide the greatest encouragement to pastors.
14. Some of the most effective pastoral ministry I have ever had has come through my presence more than my words.
15. Some words I have spoken incidentally have ministered God’s grace more powerfully than others over which I labored and prepared for hours.
16. Preaching really is a divinely ordained, foolish activity.
17. Every conversion to Christ is a miracle of grace involving intricate acts and provisions that have been divinely orchestrated.
18. Having the right books is far more important than have many books.
19. God’s grace has shined brightest through the suffering of His people.
20. Justification by faith is a bottomless well of grace.
21. The complete humanity and spotless righteousness of Jesus has become more amazing to me.
22. There is no easy way to do a hard task and ministry is full of hard tasks.
23. The propitiatory work of Jesus on the cross amazes me more and more.
24. The relationship of God’s law to His gospel has implications for every biblical doctrine.
25. Some of the greatest pastors are men who live, serve and die in relative obscurity.
26. Incremental progress is real progress and should not be dismissed.
27. God is far more patient than I could have ever imagined.
28. Forgiveness is one of the sweetest graces both in its giving and receiving.
29. Though I’ve stayed in one place a long time, I have served at least 4 different churches during that time and my people have had at least that many different pastors in the same man.
30. Wherever you see a long pastorate you can be sure there is an abundance of grace in the congregation.
31. Godly widows and widowers are worthy heroes.
32. The advance of the gospel and the spread of God’s kingdom is a testimony to power of His grace.
33. Raising children is one of the greatest privileges and challenges in human experience.
34. Having adult children is a greater joy and blessing than I ever imagined it would be.
35. Grandchildren rock!

Well said!
http://tomascol.com/35-lessons-from-35-years-as-a-pastor/

Remembering Sermons

Adrian Reynolds has this great comment on whether or not it's important that people remember my sermons:

I've just spent a wonderful hour with a dear Australian brother who has given his lifetime to preaching the gospel and teaching others to do so (no name dropping here!). He made an observation, almost in passing, that really grabbed my attention. "It doesn't matter", he said, "if people don't remember your sermons. Preaching is about making actions instinctive, not giving you more head knowledge." He went on to say that he's a good reader, but doesn't remember being taught to read. He can play the piano but remembers very little about his tuition. He knows how to ride a bike, but can't recall the moment when the stabilisers were taken off.

How true and how liberating! We are tempted, I would suggest, to measure our ministry in terms of how much people can remember of it. And when people say to us "I remember your three points" we get a inward glow. But in fact, the measure of God's word preached is whether people change and if spiritual habits that were unnatural become the norm, become instinctive. We need to pray that our preaching would be effective and not so much that it would be memorable. 

It doesn't matter if people don't remember your sermons. 

Long-Term from a Business Viewpoint

While not all of this will apply to the pastorate, I thought this note from the Harvard Business Review blogs was suggestive of why it's worth it to stay in one place for a while:

http://blogs.hbr.org/cs/2012/10/10_reason_to_stay_in_a_job_for.html

Angry Pastors

From Dan Bouchelle at "Confessions of a Former Preacher:"

While I don’t fully understand my anger, here is my current best shot at explaining it. I am angry because I couldn’t force the church to live up to my image of what it should be even when they implemented most of the changes I wanted. I am angry because I thought I had a contract with God: if I did ministry the right way, he would make me feel successful and fulfilled. I am angry because I could not shake the feeling of failure when I was doing everything I knew to do and I could not get the church to post the measurables I needed to validate my ministry. I am angry because the church I was building was too much a figment of my imagination detached from sustainable reality. I loved the people in my church and I enjoyed ministry with them. But, as a congregation—which is an abstraction in many ways—I could not reconcile what was with what should be. I am angry because other preachers who used what I thought were inferior approaches to serve inferior visions saw their churches grow while mine was plateaued or declining. I am angry because I could not solve the problem of church, as if churches are problems to be solved instead of people to be loved and developed. I am angry because I looked to my ministry for self-validation instead of modeling self-denial. I am angry because I wasn’t willing to obey what I heard God calling me to do and trust the outcomes to him instead of expecting something specific in return.

No wonder I have wanted to deny my anger. It is ugly. But there it is. Why say it out loud? Why reveal this online? Am I now an exhibitionist? Am I trying to get attention in some sick way? Perhaps. I hope not. I just think it needs to be said. I think those of us who have gotten seduced into being career minded, if only in part, even when we wouldn’t admit it to God or ourselves, need to repent and fess up. I think we need to stop blaming the church for our immature emotional issues. The church does not need to face enemies within when it has a huge challenge without.  I also want to warn other preachers to avoid a path that can lead to their undoing. Watch your expectations. We are called to a cross, not a crown. We are called to serve the Lord through the church. The church isn’t here to take care of our emotional needs.

So you are angry? Well, you might want to do something about that. That road goes to a bad place.

http://danbouchelle.blogspot.com/2012/05/so-you-are-angry.html

Memories

This week I spoke with a woman who wishes she could erase some memories and a man whose mind is beginning to erase his. Both are living in tragedy.

The sad reality of sin is that even though God forgives our sin — indeed, He forgives us — yet we have trouble forgiving ourselves and even more trouble forgetting many of those sins. Like an old scar on our head left over from a youthful fall, some sins engrave themselves almost indelibly on our souls. Or so it seems.

Then there's my friend whose problem is not forgetting but remembering. It is so hard to see this smart, sharp professional slowly becoming a caricature of himself. Without even realizing it. And, even at this early stage, I am imagining the pain that his family — especially his wife — will be going through in the years to come.

Memory is a gift. And I am convinced that even bad memories, with a large dose of time and an even larger one of grace, can change, even if they don't go away. Our goal is not necessarily to forgive and forget (though it's great when we can!) but to forgive and move on. And to cherish our forgiveness.

How Pastors Go the Distance

Tim Peters has a helpful article at http://blog.pastors.com/blogs/pcom/how-pastors-go-the-distance/.

Based on his experience of running an actual marathon, his suggestions for pastors who want to go the distance are

1. Run at a healthy pace

2. Run with no excess baggage

3. Run with a team

4. Run with frequent re-fueling

Thom Rainer on the Lifecycle of Pastors

Southern Baptist researcher Thom Rainer comments on the various lifecycles of pastors on his blog at http://www.christianpost.com/news/the-lifecycle-of-pastors-60613/.


The honeymoon lasts a year. After that, through year three, the "crisis" of both pastor and congregation is discovering their mutual humanity. Most pastors leave during this time. Years three to five are a period of "realignment," during which dissidents leave and new people arrive. "Growth," if it's going to occur, comes in years five to ten.


But here's what I found most interesting: he calls the years beyond ten "Mystery," because, "There are relatively few pastors and congregations that continue their relationships beyond a period of one decade. Thus any perspective I have of long-term pastorates is inconclusive and limited. I am confident, however, that if we see more and more pastors entering their tenth year of ministry and beyond, we will see more productive and fruitful ministries in local churches across the nation."


I found it sad that he had so few models of long-term pastors to be able to draw any conclusions, but encouraging that he finds a certain trend in that direction.

Expository Preaching

Over the past several years, I have suggested that long-term ministry is enhanced and encouraged by expository preaching. Obviously, I'm not the only one who believes this. Check out this post that is strikingly similar to my very first post to this blog (not, by the way, because they plagiarized me but because these are self-evident ideas!):

http://www.thegoodbookblog.com/2011/sep/07/7-reasons-in-support-of-consecutive-exposition-of-/

Short-Term Capitalism

From Seth Godin's Blog of August 22, 2011. The same could be said of short-term pastoring.

Short-term capitalism

There are a few reasons why one might not care what happens in the long run:

• You don't intend to be around
• You're going to make so much money in the short run it doesn't matter
• You figure you won't get caught

Short-term marketing involves using deception to make a quick sale, or using aggressive promises to get a quick hit. Having a price war counts as well. Linkbait is on that list as well.

Short-term architecture means putting up a cheap building, a local eyesore, something that saves money now instead for building something for the long haul. The guys who put up the Pantheon in Rome weren't doing short-term anything. Hard to say that about a big box store.

Short-term manufacturing ignores the side effects of pollution, bad design and worker impact because it's faster money in the short run to merely make the product (and the sale) in the most direct way possible.

Short-term investment banking invests in transactions that are unsustainable and eventually blow up (after commissions are paid).

Short-term sales involve spamming as many people as you can, as fast as you can.

Short-term hiring requires you to hire cheap, train as little as possible and live with turnover.

Bernie Madoff was a short-term capitalist, of course.

Left to their own devices, (particularly during difficult economic times) too many people misunderstand the essence of capitalism, and rationalize a do what it takes mindset that is ultimately self-defeating. The reason we need the SEC, the EPA, transparent operations, a free press that cares about its mission and people willing and able to speak up is that they make it expensive to choose the short-term option.

The short-term capitalist is betting that someone else will clean it up.

One of the worst things you can call a business person, I think, is a short-term capitalist. He selfishly takes for now and fails to contribute in return.

The internet has opened two doors. First, it's easier than ever to do the short-term thing, anonymously if you choose, with a big splash, internet ads, eBay scams and more. On the other hand, since there's a revolution going on, it's also easier than ever to build something that matters, something that lasts.

The thing to remember about the short-term is that we'll almost certainly be around when the long-term shows up.

http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2011/08/short-term-capitalism.html

Other long-termers!

I just came across two fine articles on long-term pastorates from 9Marks. Highly recommended!

One Preacher's "Death Wish" and Staying For the Glory of God

Expository Preaching

I just came across this "Top Ten List" on expository preaching. While I wouldn't word each one the same, it's hard to argue with. It comes from Timothy Witmer's new book, The Shepherd Leader.

Expository preaching identifies exactly what is at the heart of the Christian message

Expository preaching requires that the shepherd concern himself with the intent of the Divine Author for every text.

Expository preaching respects the integrity of the textual units given through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit

Expository preaching keeps the pastor from riding his favourite hobby horses.

Expository preaching requires the preacher to preach the difficult or obscure texts and challenging truths of the Bible.

Expository preaching will encourage both pastor and students alike to become students of the Bible.

Expository preaching gives us boldness in preaching for we are not expounding our own fallible views but the Word of God.

Expository preaching gives confidence to the listener that what he is hearing is not the opinion of man but the Word of God.

Expository preaching is of great assistance in sermon planning.

Expository preaching provides the context for a long tenure in a particular place.

Preaching Home Boy!

I came across this entry the other day and could not agree more with the author. I don't mind occasionally preaching in a congregation other than my own, but I never look forward to it. An important part of preaching is knowing your audience, and after 32 years I know mine pretty well!

Why I'm a preaching home-boy

Mon, 2010-11-22 06:30 — Adrian Reynolds

Preached a week ago last Sunday on Zechariah 5-6 and yesterday on Zechariah 7. Hope and pray it went OK. I don't think these are passages I could ever have preached anywhere other than at home church. Sure, I could explain them OK to strangers, but that is not preaching. 

• In difficult apocalyptic literature you need to know people well enough to know what they will understand and won't.
• Knowing people also shapes application sharply, or it should. Sure, the preaching of Zechariah 5-7 got the people building again (see Ezra 5.1-2). But we need sharper application than simply "you get building too...!" Ezra 4 details the opposition that the exiles faced. Zechariah 5-7 needs to be preached in the light of the opposition we face.
• Chief among the "mighty mountains" (Zech 4.17) that God needs to level is indwelling sin (which, I think, is the significance of the woman in the basket in Zechariah 5). Again, knowing people and knowing how that sinfulness manifests itself is key to sharp application. Similarly, false religion rears its ugly head in Zechariah 7. There it is fasting. It may well be fasting for our people today, but if we don't know how we will preach well...?

I'm a preaching home boy. That's where it counts. 

http://www.proctrust.org.uk/blog/2010-11-22/why-im-preaching-home-boy-935

Rick Warren on Longevity

I'm not a great fan of some of Rick Warren's ideas, but his post entitled, "Pastoral 'free agency' hurts churches," is right on target.

Among other things, he says, "The truth is pastoral longevity is one of the untold secrets of church health."


Check it out.

Still More on Preaching

I just finished this week's sermon (and it's only Friday afternoon, not Saturday night! But that's because I know I'll be busy tomorrow night. It's amazing how we can adjust to deadlines!)

I'm preaching through Mark's gospel, and I love it. (Though whatever I'm preaching through tends, at the moment, to be my favorite part of the Bible.) But I was thinking about what hard work it is — the research, the meditating on the text, the conceptualizing of what God is trying to say to me and my people through this particular text — all this is very hard and tiring work. I love it, but it's draining. And I haven't even started the physical preparation of preaching through the sermon (out loud) three or four times. I'll do that late Saturday night and very early Sunday morning.

But for this blog what came to mind is how many pastors are unwilling to invest all that hard work into their preaching. So they either buy their sermons (or download somebody else's work from the internet), or they do some cursory work on their text but find very little new to say. Either way, they are cheating themselves and their people. And, after a while, if you have little new to say, you have to move on to another congregation, because people quickly tire of "the same old thing" every Sunday.

Now, in truth, all we do have is "the same old story" every Sunday; but the Bible is such a rich texture of different presentations of that gospel that we have an almost infinite storehouse from which to draw. It's the same old story, but we have so many ways to tell it. So, for the pastor who is willing to do the hard work, preaching can be fresh each Sunday — for him and for his people. And that's been what has kept me going for over 30 years in the same pulpit!