The Mondays. Sometimes they even creep into Sunday nights.
Various physical, emotional, and even spiritual letdowns often follow pouring yourself out in the pulpit. Lows that inevitably come after the highs of corporate worship. Regrets about what I didn’t say, or didn’t say quite right, or said and should not have. Even when “it went well” from all the preacher can tell, we feel an emotional deficit because of all it takes to prepare and deliver a sermon.
Maybe the most underrated aspect of the Mondays isn’t what’s now past, but what’s still ahead: next Sunday. Another week of preparation. Another seven days to shoulder the burden. Another week of pondering what to say, and the often harder work of what not to say. Another week of waiting on God to provide a word from his word to again feed and preserve the people.
Good Christian preaching and teaching requires regular, and at times enormous, self-sacrifice. In the preparation. In the moment. And outside the pulpit. It’s often a quiet, private, behind-the-scenes mantle the preacher’s wife and children see, but the congregation does not. It is not heavy lifting physically, but it can be unusually taxing spiritually and emotionally. It is a burden good preachers gladly bear, and yet it is a blessed burden.
Various physical, emotional, and even spiritual letdowns often follow pouring yourself out in the pulpit. Lows that inevitably come after the highs of corporate worship. Regrets about what I didn’t say, or didn’t say quite right, or said and should not have. Even when “it went well” from all the preacher can tell, we feel an emotional deficit because of all it takes to prepare and deliver a sermon.
Maybe the most underrated aspect of the Mondays isn’t what’s now past, but what’s still ahead: next Sunday. Another week of preparation. Another seven days to shoulder the burden. Another week of pondering what to say, and the often harder work of what not to say. Another week of waiting on God to provide a word from his word to again feed and preserve the people.
Good Christian preaching and teaching requires regular, and at times enormous, self-sacrifice. In the preparation. In the moment. And outside the pulpit. It’s often a quiet, private, behind-the-scenes mantle the preacher’s wife and children see, but the congregation does not. It is not heavy lifting physically, but it can be unusually taxing spiritually and emotionally. It is a burden good preachers gladly bear, and yet it is a blessed burden.
Mid-Sermon Mirage- Every Christian knows what it’s like to hear a sermon, but very few know the personal costs involved in faithfully giving one. Hearing a sermon takes half an hour or so. Giving one takes days, if not weeks, and in some sense a lifetime. How easy it would be for a listener to sit comfortably in the pew thinking, I could do this, and better. It’s simple to see what he’s doing wrong. It would be a quick fix if he just asked for our help, right?
One of preaching’s many paradoxes is the disparity between how hard it is to stand up and preach well, and how easy it is to sit there and take it lightly.
Wouldn’t it be great if I were up there and telling people what I think? Wouldn’t it be nice to have all these people listen to my thoughts? All with little to no consideration of the actual pressure, the demands and deadlines, the dying to one’s own perfectionism and putting yourself forward to be misunderstood and criticized. Pride in some of us dreams of ourselves up front as the center of attention. Pride in others terrifies us from saying anything firm to so many, especially in public, face-to-face with a crowd of potential critics. Pride will not only jump to speak when it’s puffed up, but button the lip when insecure. Preaching bids a man come and die to both.
