Introspection: A Personal Challenge

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

A Personal Challenge

Therefore, don't be afraid of those people because nothing is hidden that won't be revealed, and nothing secret that won't be brought out into the open.  What I say to you in the darkness, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, announce from the rooftops.

Matthew 10:26-27 (CEB)

Say it like it is
Say it like you mean it
Words are strong enough to say you care
Say it like it is
Say it like you mean it
Words are strong enough to make you swear

From "Say" by Nemesea

If you've been following this blog for a while, then you probably know that I am a Lay Speaker in the United Methodist Church.  In other words, I've been certified to fill in at churches in the denomination when their pastors are on vacation or are otherwise unable to be present.  Effectively, I am a "substitute preacher."  Due to various reasons, I haven't had very many opportunities to preach in the last few years.  Until last November, I had not preached in nearly a year and a half.  Recently a pastor who is a friend of mine asked me to fill in for her on two Sundays within the last few weeks.

When I write sermons, I typically follow the Revised Common Lectionary, a three-year cycle of assigned weekly Bible readings used my many churches.  A week's readings typically consist of a reading from one of the Gospels, another reading from the New Testament, a reading from the Psalms, and another reading from the Old Testament.¹  I usually base my sermons on the Gospel readings.  When I started preaching, I made it a practice to preach on readings from the Lectionary, because I wanted to know if I could preach on any given Sunday.  Sometimes, when I'm asked to preach, I find that I've already preached on one of the passages for the week or a similar passage, and I am able to revise a sermon I've delivered previously.

When I was asked to preach on the third Sunday in June, I found that I already had a sermon based on the Epistle reading for the week.  For some reason, I just didn't want to deliver that sermon again.  The previous three times I preached, I revised sermons I had delivered previously, and I think I just wanted to write something new.

It's also worth noting that the reason I had a sermon based on the Epistle reading for the week was that I previously did not want to preach on the Gospel reading.  In that particular passage, Jesus says a number of things that are challenging and even downright frightening.  For example, He seems to threaten His hearers with eternal damnation when He says, "Don't be afraid of those who kill the body but can't kill the soul.  Instead, be afraid of the one who can destroy both body and soul in hell."²  Jesus seems to threaten His hearers yet again when He says, "Everyone who denies me before people, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven."³  Finally, Jesus says, "Don't think that I've come to bring peace to the earth.  I haven't come to bring peace but a sword."⁴  This is a rather strange statement for the One who is called the Prince of Peace to make.

I decided to take a second look at that dreadful passage, and, when I read it within its context, I gained a new appreciation for it.  The passage is part of a larger section of the Gospel of Matthew that is sometimes called the Mission Discourse.⁵  In it, Jesus commissions the Disciples to go out and the same things He has been doing in His ministry, and He warns them that they will face the same hostility He has started to face.⁶  When Jesus makes His frightening and hopefully hyperbolic statements, He is acknowledging the often disruptive nature of His work and challenging the Disciples to be courageous in the face of hostility.

For about three weeks, the Mission Discourse and the sermon I was writing about it occupied my thoughts.  Because I've been confronted with my own cowardice more than once this year, the Gospel passage I once found scary became a personal challenge.  I felt that, like the Disciples, I too was being challenged to be courageous.

As I wrote my sermon bit by bit, I found myself venturing into subject matter that I thought would be controversial at the churches where I would be preaching.  I touched on things that I consider problematic about Christianity in America.  I wondered how my sermon would be received.  I expected that I would be stepping on people's toes, so to speak.  I told some members of my Sunday school class that I thought the sermon I was preparing was "a bit much" and joked that I would probably be burned at the stake for it.

As people who call ourselves disciples of Jesus, we must consider honestly what we are doing.  Are we trying to liberate people, as Jesus did when He freed people from their demons and diseases, or are we trying to keep people in their places?  Are we offering people hope, or are we misusing Jesus' name to instill fear and shame into people?  Are we heralding the heavenly Kingdom that Jesus announced, or are we serving some earthly kingdom instead?  Jesus once used these words from the Book of Isaiah to describe what He was doing: "The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor..."  Do the poor, the oppressed, the disadvantaged, and other such "lost sheep" hear good news from us, or, in their eyes, have we joined the "wolves" who prey upon them?

Excerpted from my sermon "Sheep Among Wolves"

I thought I was acting courageously by preaching a potentially controversial sermon about a Bible passage I found challenging.  If anyone at either of the two churches where I preached that morning found anything I said offensive, they didn't tell me.  All of the feedback I received was positive.  Maybe the people to whom I preached weren't listening.  Maybe they just heard what they wanted to hear.  Maybe I used such vague language nobody really understood what I was trying to say.  Maybe I didn't actually say anything controversial at all.

At least I can say that I tried to be courageous, I guess.  If nothing else, I can hope that God heard and answered the prayer I prayed before I started preaching that Sunday, that each of us who were present would hear whatever God wanted us to hear.


Notes:

1. Wikipedia: "Revised Common Lectionary"
2. Matthew 10:28 (CEB)
3. Matthew 10:33 (CEB)
4. Matthew 10:34 (CEB)
5. Wikipedia: "Matthew 10"
6. Matthew 10:1-25

The photograph featured in this introspection has been released to the public domain.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.

Introspection: To Preach, or Not to Preach?

I share these thoughts hoping they are of help to someone else.
Comments are always welcomed.
If you find these thoughts helpful, please share.

To Preach, or Not to Preach?

Some certainly preach Christ with jealous and competitive motives, but others preach with good motives...

What do I think about this?  Just this: since Christ is proclaimed in every possible way, whether from dishonest or true motives, I'm glad and I'll continue to be glad.

Philippians 1:15, 18 (CEB)

For years and years
I chased their cheers
The crazy speed of always needing more
But when I stop
And see you here
I remember who all this was for

From "From Now On" by Pasek and Paul

If you know me personally or if you have been following this blog for a while, then you might know that I am a certified Lay Speaker in my denomination.  In other words, I am certified to fill in for pastors on Sunday mornings when needed.  One could say that I am essentially a "substitute preacher."  Earlier this year, during the season of Eastertide, I went on a short "preaching tour."  For the three Sundays after Easter, I delivered three different sermons at three different churches, starting with the church I regularly attend.

I enjoy preparing sermons, preaching, and visiting different churches, but, after preaching for three Sundays in a row, I was ready to take a break.  Additional opportunities to preach came up, but, for a number of reasons, I wasn't very eager to accept them.  As I've already noted, I needed a break.  Preparing sermons takes time, and, since I already have a full-time job, it can be rather costly for me.  Also, during the summer months, I opted to work four ten-hour workdays per week so that I could take Fridays off, and I didn't really want to spend my days off preparing sermons.  I've also been rather angry about certain things going on within my denomination.

All that said, there were some other reasons that I was hesitant to preach again.

During my "preaching tour" this spring, I noticed something about myself, specifically that I tend to that I tend to use a lot of showbusiness language in reference to my preaching.  I tend to refer to the times I'm scheduled to preach as "gigs."  When one pastor asked me to preach on a particular Sunday, I told him that I was already "booked."  I've even caught myself thinking about the time a church service starts as "showtime."

It might also be worth noting that, to psyche myself up before I preach, I listen to songs from The Greatest Showman on the way to the church.

Basically, I started to wonder if I really am a preacher or if I'm really just a performer.

As I noted a few years ago, I sometimes experience a sense of trepidation before I preach or at least some cognitive dissonance.  Sometimes I feel like I am not the right person to do the things I do in the church.  I'm painfully aware that I am not the Christian exemplar one would expect the person behind the preacher's podium to be.  Sometimes I doubt the messages I deliver.  For example, early in the morning before I delivered the sermon at my home church, I lay in bed wondering why I ever thought the clustercuss of a sermon I had written was a good idea.  Sometimes I wonder if I really preach from my heart or if I just happen to know the right things to say.  I want to offer people hope when I preach, but I often find that I am not living with the kind of hope I want to offer people.

One day back in the spring, I remembered that, when I was a little boy, my grandfather built a small podium for me.  I asked my mother if the reason he built me the podium was because I wanted to be a preacher even then.  She reminded me that back then I wanted to be a game show host.  It seems that I've always wanted to be some sort of performer or public figure.  Maybe preaching and leading worship is the only way I've found to perform for an audience.

One of the sermons I preached during Eastertide was based on the story of the apostle Peter, who at one point denied knowing Jesus.  The main point of the sermon was that we must not allow ourselves to give into the temptation to give up when we've failed.  I began this sermon with a story about the founder of my particular branch of Christianity.  In the 1730s, John Wesley, a priest in the Church of England, traveled to the Georgia colony in order to be a minister to the colonists and a missionary to the natives.  He later returned to England as an utter failure.¹

One day, Wesley told his friend Peter Boehler, a Moravian priest, that he was going to quit preaching because he wasn't sure he had any faith left.  Boehler replied, "Preach faith till you have it; then, because you have it, you will preach faith."²

Even though I did not share any personal stories in this sermon, I still considered it a very personal one, because I've come to understand the stories of Peter and Wesley in light of my own past temptations to give up when I felt like I failed God.  I also happen to take comfort in Boehler's advice to Wesley regarding preaching.  Though I struggle to live like I believe the things I preach, my sermons are not empty words, for I do aspire to live like I believe them.  I might not always feel that I personally possess the hope I want to offer people, especially after the last couple of years, but, if I keep offering people hope through my sermons, I might someday find myself living with that hope.

In mid July, I finally accepted another opportunity to preach.  I suspect that I might be the go-to guy for one of the pastors in my area when he needs someone to fill in for him, and I wanted to continue being the person he calls.  As I prepared my sermon, the Scripture passage I had chosen did a number on me.  I saw myself in a very foolish individual in one of Jesus' parables, and I was forced to reconsider how I've been living my life.

I have decided that I will keep preaching, despite my trepidations.  I'll keep preaching because, even if I am more of a performer than a preacher, I might as well perform for a higher purpose.  I'll keep preaching because, if God does indeed give me messages to share with others, I had better share them.  I'll keep preaching because, if I keep sharing hopeful messages with others, I just might become a more hopeful person.  I'll keep preaching because someone out there just might need to hear the sermons I write as much as I need to hear them.


Notes:

1. Adam Hamilton.  Revival: Faith as Wesley Lived It.  2014, Abingdon Press.  pp. 62-67
2. Hamilton, p. 69

The photograph of the lectern was taken by Ib Rasmussen, who has released it to the public domain.  The photographer is in no way affiliated with this blog.