A couple weeks ago, I contributed an article on preaching for The Keller Center and why it’s important for pastors to “find the edge” in their sermon preparation. Finding the edge means asking these questions: How does this biblical text—its world of assumptions, attitudes, and application—cut against the grain of what passes for “common sense” in our world? Where’s the encounter or confrontation of this text with worldly ways of thinking and living? Where’s the sharp point of contradiction?
Finding the edge helps us hold the interest of our congregations instead of settling for overly long and often boring sermons.
Whenever I start talking about sermons being deeply engaging, or the need to find the edge, some will protest that this is the road to compromise because it means I must deliver a message on the terms set by my congregation’s interests. Won’t this force us into caring too much about what people want to hear instead of what they need to hear? Won’t we start basing our sermons on people’s “felt needs,” or shave off the rough edges of Scripture so we can be “seeker sensitive,” or sacrifice our convictions because we’re trying to be “attractive”?
We shouldn’t dismiss these concerns. Even in New Testament times, we see the temptation for pastors to satisfy itching ears. It’s possible to captivate the interest of your congregation in unhealthy ways, by sidelining the Scriptures in favor of the stories you want to tell, by rallying your people for the political or social cause that revs them up, or by giving good advice disconnected from the good news. If the preacher’s sermons are inclined toward winning a popularity contest, then we can expect shallow and superficial engagement with the text of Scripture.
Still, there’s no reason for solid, biblical preaching to bore people. Crafting a sermon well, with intention, and being passionate in your delivery so your tone reflects the seriousness of the substance, isn’t something new. This has been and remains a perennial concern of Christian exegetes.
Augustine on Eloquence
In On Christian Doctrine, Augustine wrote,
[Speech] was not instituted by human beings that an expression of charity should win over a listener . . . or that the variety of discourse should keep listeners attentive without annoyance. . . . That which moves minds to long for or to avoid something is not invented but discovered.
In his essay “The Sweetness of the Word,” John Cavadini sums up Augustine’s approach:
The primary aim . . . is not only to teach what he has learned but also to present it in such a way that it will “move minds.” “Healthful teaching” is of no avail if it has no power to delight those to whom it is presented. It is not enough simply to speak the truth; in fact, if one’s teaching is “wise” or “healthful,” it is all the more crucial that it be eloquent.
What’s the point of a speech if not persuasion? What’s the point of a workout if it doesn’t leave us stronger, or a meal if the plate remains half full, or a prescription if the bitter taste keeps the patient from receiving the right dosage? Augustine leans on the medicinal metaphor:
For one who speaks eloquently speaks sweetly; one who speaks wisely, speaks healthfully. . . . But what is better than a sweetness with the power of healing, or a power of healing that is sweet? The more eagerly the sweetness is desired, the more readily the power of healing avails.
Augustine’s commendation of eloquence isn’t motivated by pride, as if our sermons would be designed for people to walk away saying, “Isn’t that preacher amazing?” It’s based in the desire for people to experience the awesomeness of God. They appreciate the message because it helped them tap into the beauty of the Christian faith, to fall more in love with the Truth.
Relentlessly Interesting
I love to preach. A few years ago, I served as the primary teaching pastor at my church. Since 2021, I’ve stepped into two interim pastorate positions and provided weekly messages, and I get the opportunity to preach in different churches or at conferences and universities around the country.
One of my main goals, no matter where I’m preaching, is to be relentlessly interesting. I want it to be hard for a listener not to pay attention, because the sermon is so interesting it continues to pull them back toward the text. The preaching is relentless in that way. I want it to be harder to tune out than to tune in.
I don’t always do well at this, which is one reason I usually don’t preach lengthy messages. I think I do OK at achieving that goal for about 25 to 30 minutes (and even then, it takes a lot of effort), but I have a harder time once I’ve surpassed the 35-minute mark. I remember my preaching professor, when asked how long a sermon should be, telling us, “There’s no set length. Preach as long as you can keep most everyone with you. Just remember: most preachers think they can keep people about 15 minutes longer than they actually can!”
One of the best things a preacher can do is request and receive critical feedback from a few trusted sources. Without this feedback, it’s hard to get better. It’s hard to know how the congregation is experiencing your messages. It’s hard to know if you’re holding the attention of your people or not.
Encounter with God
Your content and delivery matter because preaching aims to lead people to encounter God. John Stott writes of the aspiration of every preacher:
The most moving experience a preacher can ever have is when, in the middle of the sermon, a strange hush descends upon the congregation. The sleepers have woken up, the coughers have stopped coughing, and the fidgeters are sitting still. No eyes or minds are wandering. Everybody is listening, but not to the preacher. The preacher is forgotten, and the people are face to face with the living God, listening to his still, small voice.
Tim Keller said something similar—a sermon should be full of insights worth writing down, but by the end, the sermon will have failed if there’s not a point at which the pen and notepad are set aside and the hearer is left in awe of God and his accomplishment of our salvation. Ray Ortlund reminds us,
Hearing a sermon is not like hearing a lecture. It is your meeting with the living Christ. It is you seeing his glory, so that you can feel it and be changed by it. Let’s pay attention to him and what he means a sermon to be, lest we miss him.
An unengaging message won’t cut it, not if we want people to encounter Christ. Seeing glory is glorious. Let’s preach like it is.
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