Tuning In - Tuning Out?

Dear Listening Friends:

From the age of 13, my mother attended the same church until she was the longest continuous member, with nearly 85 years on the rolls. When she first attended, her aunt, my Great-Aunt Betty, was the church secretary to the founding pastor, the Reverend Dr. R.R. Brown. A fiery preacher in the style of Billy Sunday, Dr. Brown was an early radio preacher whose voice dominated the airwaves through station WOW. At the height of his broadcast in the early 1930s, he boasted nearly a half million weekly listeners.

My mother used to tell the story of listening to one of Dr. Brown’s sermons when she was in high school. Deeply moved by the message, she waited in line to shake his hand and tell him she believed it was one of the best sermons he had ever given. Dr. Brown thanked her, saying it wasn’t his best, but clearly the one she needed to hear. Dr. Brown was famous for his ability to humblebrag.

I remember my mom telling this story on the rare occasion that someone compliments one of my sermons (see what I did there?). Preaching, like so many crafts, is only as good as its reception. Frederick Buechner pointed out that the best sermon is the one the Holy Spirit preaches to your heart while the minister happens to be talking. I used to tell my preaching students at the University of Chicago Divinity School that they shouldn’t inquire too deeply about what their parishioners learned from their sermons; sometimes it’s a long way from what they thought they were teaching. One Sunday I was told that my sermon was exactly what Joel Osteen had preached on television earlier that morning. I spent the afternoon questioning nearly every aspect of my ministry.

There are so many communication inflection points on any given Sunday. There are the words in my notes, the words I speak, the words people hear and the message people retain. That’s why every sermon begins with prayer. From the silence, the preacher pleas with God to repair their deficiencies so that the sermon may improve through translation. 

Like all communication, preaching does not take place in a vacuum. The quality of the relationship speaks more loudly than the words being proclaimed. Occasionally someone shares a recorded sermon that deeply moved them. If I respect the preacher, I am inclined to agree. If, on the other hand, I have little regard for the character of the speaker, I am quick to wonder how such drivel could merit any positive review. Again, I coached my preaching students to work harder on their relationships than on their sermons. It’s amazing how good you sound to the people who appreciate your pastoral care.

In Judges 15 we read how God through Samson overcame 1,000 Philistines with the jawbone of an ass. Scrolling through online sermons, I cynically fear we preachers may be accomplishing similar outcomes with the same tool. But I am encouraged. It often seems that a miracle happens between the speaking and the recalling. After preaching, I am sometimes reminded of Mark Twain’s quip about Wagnerian opera, “It’s much better than it sounds.”

Thankful for what you thought you heard, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor

Next
Next

A Time to Grieve