Archive for the 'preaching' Category

My Special Pass

Published
by
Mike
on September 29, 2006
in Church and preaching
. 50 Comments

I have a special pass. The kind that gets some people into every athletic event for their school or that permits some people to park wherever they want.

Only my pass allows me to enter into the holy places of lives.

I’m a minister. I’m one who speaks the Word of God, one who shapes worldviews, one who challenges, chastises, encourages, teaches, forms, unforms, and guides. And because of that — ill-formed though my life often seems to me (dogged by doubts and shortcomings) and ill-prepared though I’ve always felt (despite those many years of Greek!) — I’m given a pass that permits me to walk into sacred places.

Places where vows are made. Places where last words are spoken by best friends before walking out to make vows. Places where grieving widows or widowers say one last word at the casket after everyone else is gone. Places where parents hold their breath and beg God, waiting for the latest MRI to come back. Places where people speak their secrets, needing reassurance that God still loves them. Places of grief, relief, sorrow, joy, fear, and ecstasy.

What would I say to a young person who’s considering ministry?

Well, let’s be honest. It isn’t always easy. (What job is?)

But it’s a privilege, a blessing beyond blessings. My pass lets me weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. And when that happens, I feel fully alive. Even with those hidden doubts and shortcomings.

The Live Current

Published
by
Mike
on April 23, 2006
in preaching
. 20 Comments

“Every preacher has a different routine for preparing a sermon. My own begins with a long sitting spell with an open Bible on my lap, as I read and read and read the text. What I am hunting for is the God in it, God for me and for my congregation at this particular moment in time. I am waiting to be addressed by the text by my own name, to be called out by it so that I look back at my human situation and see it from a new perspective, one that is more like God’s. I am hoping for a moment of revelation I can share with those who will listen to me and I am jittery, because I never know what it may show me. I am not in control of the process. It is a process of discovery, in which I run the charged rod of God’s word over the body of my own experience and wait to see where the sparks will fly. Sometimes the live current is harder to find than others but I keep at it, knowing that if there is no electricity for me, there will be none for the congregation either.”

(Barbara Brown Taylor, The Preaching Life, p. 80)

Killing Superpastor

Published
by
Mike
on April 10, 2006
in General and preaching
. 50 Comments

Yesterday between our assemblies, because my lungs were holding half the dust of West Texas and my voice was threatening to go on strike after just a few more deep, painful coughs, I got a nice big steroid shot.

I’m feeling better. And wired!!!

It’s after 3:00 AM and my body hasn’t even considered the possibility of sleep.

But it’s been such a blessing. I’ve been up, it’s quiet, and I’m not tired. Plus, for some reason my creative juices have been flowing as I’ve read thoughtfully and prayerfully.

After a couple weeks of travel, writing articles and a foreword, teaching, and preaching, this has been so restorative (until I crash at noon!). I just went and pulled out a passage from Rob Bell’s Velvet Elvis that connected with me when I first read it. He’s just told about how he nearly crashed and burned when, at the age of 28, he planted a church that grew so quickly. He tried to be all things for all people — superpastor! — even in those areas that depleted him quickly.

“I had this person I knew I was made to be, yet it was mixed in with all of these other . . . people. As the lights were turned on, I saw I had all of this guilt and shame because I wasn’t measuring up to the image of the perfect person I had in my head. I had this idea of a superpastor — all of these messages I had been sent over the years that I had received and internalized.

“Superpastor is always available to everyone and accomplishes great things but always has time to stop and talk and never misses anyone’s birthday and if you are sick he’s at the hospital and you can call him at home whenever you need advice and he loves meetings and spends hours studying and praying and yet you can interrupt him if you need something — did I mention he always put his family first?

“Now you are starting to see some of my issues.

“I am not superpastor.

“I don’t do well in an office nine to five.

“I jump out of my skin if I am in meetings too long.

“I am institutionally challenged.

“But I am not defined by what I am not. And understanding this truth is a huge part of becoming whole. I had to stop living in reaction and start letting a vision for what lies ahead pull me forward.

“I began to sort out with those around me what God did make me to do. What kept coming up was that my life work is fundamentally creative in nature. And creating has its own rhythms, its own pace. Inspiration comes at strange times when you create. And inspiration comes because of discipline. And discipline comes when you organize your life in specific, intentional ways. It means saying yes to certain things and no to other things. And then sticking to it.

“I had this false sense of guilt and subsequent shame because I believed deep down that I wasn’t working ahrd enough. And I believed the not-working-hard-enough lie because I didn’t function like superpastor, who isn’t real anyway.

“So I had one choice — I had to kill superpastor.”

Buffett and Books

Published
by
Mike
on January 12, 2006
in Books, music and preaching
. 22 Comments

My name is Mike, and I’m a Parrothead. All right, maybe not a fullblown Parrothead. But I do like Buffett’s music. (I have one of my elders to blame.)

You’ve heard “Margaritaville” and “Cheeseburger in Paradise,” of course–along with “Come Monday.” Yeah, yeah. Probably even “Fins” and “Volcano.”

But how about “Tin Cup Chalice,” “One Particular Harbor,” “Migration,” “School Boy Heart” and “I Love the Now”? Maybe “Meet Me in Memphis” or Jimmy’s version of “Brown-Eyed Girl,” “Mexico,” or “Southern Cross”?

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One of my best reads last year was Gilead by Marilynne Robinson. The novel is a long letter from a 76-year-old minister to his 6-year-old son. John Ames married when he was young, but his wife died in childbirth (along with the daughter she was giving birth to). He remained single–and at the same church–for four decades, when he married a woman thirty years younger.

Near the end of his life, he writes to his son to tell him who he is (was) and to let the boy know about his grandfather and great grandfather, also pastors–one a big war-promoter and the other a pacifist.

There are so many things I love about this novel, but one of the most significant things to me was her insight about sermon preparation, about preaching, and about ministry. How could someone write this who hasn’t been a minister herself?

Here’s a sample:

“Your mother is respectful of my hours up here in the study. She’s proud of my books. She was the one who actually called my attentionn to the number of boxes I have filled with my sermons and my prayers. Say, fifty sermons a year for forty-five years, not counting funerals and so on, of which there have been a great many. Two thousand two hundred and fifty. If they average thirty pages, that’s sixty-seven thousand five hundred pages. Can that be right? I guess it is. I write in a small hand, too, as you know by now. Say three hundred pages make a volume. Then I’ve written two hundred twenty-five books, which puts me up there with Augustine and Calvin for quantity. That’s amazing. I wrote almost all of it in the deepest hope and conviction. Sifting my thoughts and choosing my words. Trying to say what was true. And I’ll tell you frankly, that was wonderful.”

And then this:

“I suppose it’s natural to think about those old boxes of sermons upstairs. They are a record of my life, after all, a sort of foretaste of the Last Judgment, really, so how can I not be curious? Here I was a pastor of souls, hundreds and hundreds of them over all those years, and I hope I was speaking to them, not only to myself, as it seems to me sometimes when I look back. I still wake up at night, thinking, That’s what I should have said! or That’s what he meant! remembering conversations I had with people years ago, some of them long gone from the world, past any thought of my putting things right with them. And then I do wonder where my attention was. If that is even the question.”

One more:

“A good sermon is one side of a passionate conversation. It has to be heard in that way. There are three parties to it, of course, but so are there even to the most private thought–the self that yields the thought, the self that acknowledges and in some way responds to the thought, and the Lord. That is a remarkable thing to consider.”

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And speaking of sermons, just a moment for preacher geek. I just finished Paul Scott Wilson’s Preaching and Homiletical Theory. I had already worked through his books God Sense: Reading the Bible for Preaching and The Four Pages of the Sermon, but I enjoyed this one much more. If you haven’t had a chance to catch up on works on homiletics for a while, this will provide a lot of help. The opening section on the Bible (with chapters entitled “Biblical Preaching,” “Exegesis for Preaching,” and “Homileticians and the Bible”) is excellent.

The Baby Who Proved Scripture Is Right

Published
by
Mike
on January 1, 2006
in Highland and preaching
. 20 Comments

My preaching year hasn’t begun very well.

This morning we’re having everyone come to the front for communion. We do this about four times a year, and most people love the experience. So often when we take communion, we never interact with one another. It’s as if we were in cubicles. It’s more of an altar rather than a table (to borrow from the wonderful insights of John Mark Hicks in Come to the Table).

On these Sundays, we’re able to sing more, we actually see each other, pray for each other, greet each other, and bless each other. That’s hard to pull off in such a large church, but I think most are deeply blessed.

Anyway, to bring us to the table, I’m speaking on the image of pregnancy and childbirth. To get a glimpse of where this might go, read John 16:22, 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11, and Romans 8:22.

A couple weeks ago I asked my assistant to find me a “really pregnant woman.” “How pregnant?” Gina wanted to know. “REAL pregnant.” So Gina talked to WK, who is due the second week of January with her first child.

Then I crafted a sermon around an interaction on Sunday morning with WK. She came in Friday and we went through the Q & A part. As she left, I jokingly said, “You’ll still be around Sunday, won’t you?” She laughed and said, “Oh, yes. I just saw the doctor and he said there’s no way I’ll go into labor for another week.”

Then I went back to preparing my sermon on the suddenness and unpredictability of childbirth.

You’re way ahead of me, aren’t you? Last night, just before a houseful of people came over, I got a call to tell me that WK was in labor and that she and her husband had gone to the hospital.

So this morning I get to encourage people to receive the body and blood of Jesus in a spirit of watchful anticipation, knowing that the Lord could appear at any time. My sermon is in a bit of disarray, however, since I didn’t pay enough attention to what the text had been saying all along! You don’t know!

I hope my attentiveness to scripture improves this year.

Blessings on you in 2006.

And for now, we welcome Highland’s newest member: Casen Matthew K., who was born at 12:25 this morning.

Lost Secrets Revealed!

Published
by
Mike
on October 28, 2005
in preaching
. 43 Comments

The DaVinci Code has been popular partly because it’s so well written. But another big factor is that it gives many the (false) sense that they’re being let in on some long lost secrets that have now been recovered that make everything plain.

Wade Hodges and I visited recently about a great preacher we enjoy hearing (from another tribe) who is always peppering his sermons with insights that NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD BEFORE–obscure material from rabbinic teaching that makes everything clear. The problem is, the stuff probably isn’t true, at least not as background material for scripture. It is probably from writings that come centuries later. But people soak it up because we love the idea of being in on lost secrets now recovered that explain everything. If scripture can just be made less mysterious and obscure, we’ll take it! Remember hearing the old interpretation about how there is a spot in Jerusalem called “eye of the needle” that was so low a camel could barely get under it? And remember how exciting it was to finally make sense of Jesus saying that a rich person going to heaven is comparable to a camel going through the eye of a needle? One problem: there is absolutely no evidence of such a spot.

Several people have shared with me their joy in watching some video series a guy has done that supposedly reveals what NO ONE HAS EVER HEARD BEFORE from backgrounds that seemingly only he has discovered. Again, it makes scripture so much clearer. But again, it’s just probably not right. But we love being in on lost secrets.

- - - -

Some members of this blog community have started another blog focuses on glimpses of grace all around us. Check it out at www.ourgracenotes.blogspot.com. And while you’re at it, try the new Wineskins site at www.wineskins.org.

- - - -

Tonight is the big AHS-Cooper football game. I’m speaking this morning at Richland Hills at a gathering of Church of Christ and Christian Church leaders, and then I’ll head back so that we’re in our seats on the 50 yard line well before kickoff. How many high school games have over 15,000 in attendance?

Returning to Twenty

Published
by
Mike
on September 16, 2005
in Highland, memories and preaching
. 13 Comments

I met this morning with “my group of elders.” I can’t tell you what a blessing it is. They’re there to encourage me and to support me.

I remember an experience from another time in life when “my group of elders” was often upset. It was a scolding session. One time one of them barked at me, “When are we going to get back to preaching about the gospel?” I was preaching a long series on the cross. And he wanted to know when we were going to talk about the gospel. The frightening thing is that this man had been in many places of spiritual leadership.

It’s so nice to have trust for the 40 brothers who serve as our elders. At times I miss a meeting and find out decisions that have been made. Even when I don’t understand, I have no doubts about the prayer and spiritual discernment that went into it. If it doesn’t sound right to me, my assumption is that there is something I don’t know. For that I’m very thankful.

But most meetings don’t center on decisions, anyway. They center on prayer, affirmation, commissioning, and encouragement. Especially, prayer. I’m a better man for being allowed to peek in these past fourteen-plus years.

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Yesterday I sat next to my buddy Eddie Sharp, one of the world’s great ministers, during the ACU Preacher’s Workshop (or whatever it’s called). As I listened to Paul Scott Wilson — author of The Four Pages of the Sermon, God Sense, Broken Words, and Preaching and Homiletical Theory – I was transported back to when I was 20. It was like a wave falling over me as I was swept up in remembering how eager I had been to preach. I was all of a sudden in the Harding library reading my Greek New Testament. I was listening to Jim Woodroof preach at the College Church. I was bug-eyed listening to the passion of Terry Smith and Landon Saunders. I was underlining in my first NIV New Testament. I was soaking up the words of Neale Pryor and Jimmy Allen, Tom Eddins and Jerry Jones. I was sitting in chapel listening to the powerful words of faith from Cliff Ganus.

For just a brief moment, I got to be twenty again.

Missional Training

Published
by
Mike
on February 25, 2005
in Church, missional and preaching
. 56 Comments

On the 17th I blogged about the change in how ministers are trained. When I went through my training, the focus was on S-T-U-D-Y. Now there is a greater focus on practical theology and internships.

But now here’s my question: Where are we going to send our young, devoted ministers-in-training to do those internships? Where can they go to do grassroots training on how to have a missional impact in those hidden nooks and crannies of society?

Most churches are in chaplaincy mode — taking care of the long-time converted, managing everyone’s selfish preferences, reshuffling committees, making sure the nursery is adequately staffed, etc. Most churches are ill-equiped to reach the places that these young ministers are interested in.

Most churches seem to have a circle-the-wagons mentality, worried to death about liberals, Democrats, gays, etc.

But many of the young ministry students I know are more interested in loving the world and serving the world than in condemning the world. They seem, remarkably enough, to want to follow the lead of Jesus who was in the world but not of the world.

They envision churches that minister to people who struggle with same-sex attraction, who drink a bit too much, and sometimes sleep around. They imagine helping those who have lost their way, those who can’t grasp any absolutes, those who have failed royally. They don’t want people to be known (as I heard Don McGlothlin say this week) for their worst moments.

And we want to send them on internships where they learn how to conduct staff meetings and how to calm people who greatly value being “comfortable” with all that’s happening in worship? We want them to learn from Abilene churches — where there is a weekly exchange of members who became uncomfortable someplace else and where “church growth” is defined as a new class that brings in more university students?

There are places out there where they can learn a lot. But they may look VERY different! They may look like Central Dallas Ministries. Or the Impact Church. Or any number of places where the majority of our members just wouldn’t be comfortable. (Again, our obsession with being comfortable. If I hear one more lecture on helping people become COMFORTABLE with what’s happening, I’m going to scream. There’s real discipleship: take up your cross, become comfortable, and follow me.)

Here’s what Randy Harris was asking Wed PM at the ACU lectureship: Are we willing to support them in pursuing these missional dreams — even when it means they’re going to be in a place where WE might not be comfortable?

Much is at stake in how we answer that question.

George Burns on Preaching

Published
by
Mike
on September 4, 2004
in General and preaching
. 2 Comments

Wise words passed on to me by my mom. (Mom, are you sure this is from George Burns and not from Dad?): “The secret of a good sermon is to have a good beginning and a good ending; and to have the two as close together as possible.” ~George Burns

Secret Whispers of Inadequacy

Published
by
Mike
on August 20, 2004
in preaching
. 19 Comments

I wonder: how many people feel secretly inadequate? Inside they are afraid that others will find out that they don’t know nearly as much as people think.

Happens to me all the time. I mentioned yesterday all those wonderful teachers. Well, most of them go here! They listen to me preach. I always feel like I don’t know enough about the New Homiletic, about advances in exegesis, about ministry skills, etc. Despite all I read, I feel like I’m a decade behind in my reading. And my audience includes lots of M. Div. students who are getting training I’d kill to receive.

An inner voice whispers: they know more than you!! (And it’s true. All of my old school colleagues will tell you: we learned almost NOTHING about ministry in seven years–4 undergrad and 3 grad. I learned almost nothing useful or insightful about evangelism, discipling, mentoring, leading, resolving conflicts, working with elders, or counseling. Nothing. Nada. Zippo. I did have wonderful teaching in basic homiletics, Greek, Hebrew, Restoration history, and exegesis. What does that tell you?)

Preaching in Abilene may be like being a 48-year-old family doctor in Houston. You have two med schools around you, a world-class medical complex, some of the brightest minds in the medical field. And you’re saying, “Stick out your tongue and cough.” Hey, someone has to do it. Dr. DeBakey doesn’t do sore throats.

I think I’m the guy that says, “Stick out your tongue and cough.”

One blessing I have (that others in similar situations haven’t enjoyed) is that most of these “experts” are very encouraging. Many of them have been there in local ministry. They know what it’s like to plug along year-after-year. (My 14th year just began.)

My guess is that this inner voice isn’t very healthy or helpful. Maybe at times it’s good for humility. But too often it comes from a desire to impress and wow. It worries too much about comparisons.

I like the idea of playing to an audience of one (God). But that’s easier to say than do . . . don’t you think?