There are very few masterful preachers these days, and some of the best are so arrogant they smell up the church.

When I think of the great sermons I've heard, there are about five masterpieces. They are all full of rhythms and stories. They are not especially controversial. They don't all talk a lot about Jesus. But they are all based solidly on the Bible.

The best preachers get in a groove, and early in the sermon they are fired up and marching toward glory. You can actually hear the rhythms in their words. You could send an army of foot soldiers into war on the cadence. That's very comfortable for listeners for a short time. But then the rhythm has to slow down to a pause.

That's when the best preachers jump back in with a story -- a real, honest-to-goodness story that will illustrate the text. Here's where the ceilings open and God hovers above the congregation. You can almost see the hosts of heaven as the preacher explains the mysteries of life.

When it comes to stories, the best ones are authentic. You can fool the people once in a while with a manufactured tale. But if the preacher gets in the habit of writing bogus short stories, the people will soon understand they have a bogus preacher. Because when we write about imaginary people, we tend to exaggerate, and that will get a pretty good preacher in trouble every time.

One of the things that experts are saying about Generation X people is they are after authenticity, in the preacher, the sermon and the entire worship experience. So, when you go to a Generation X church, you will see young preachers talking about themselves, particularly their shortcomings.

So maybe a preacher is having trouble with a devoted prayer life. It's OK to talk about that. A preacher wouldn't want to admit that the mind wanders into pornographic images, but to confess a difficulty in spending long periods in prayer is acceptable.

So after a spirited rhythmic passage, a preacher winds down a bit and pauses. Then says something like this.

"Yes, I want to admit to you -- even confess, I suppose -- that in the last couple of months I've really been struggling with my prayer life. I can't seem to concentrate on the issues. I know some of you deeply need my prayer. So that's where I start, by holding your names before the Almighty, especially those of you who have special needs.

"But then I really struggle. You know how it is when you go to the grocery store and you have five items to buy and you forget one. And you go home and your spouse says, 'Where is the peanut butter?' Then you slap your forehead, get back in the car and head out again.

"I had a friend once who went to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping, and he was a musician -- always had great symphonies running through his head. So, he did all the shopping and went home. When he opened the trunk, all the groceries were thrown loose into the trunk -- not a sack, not a box. He realized he hadn't paid for the food. So, he got back in the car, drove to the grocery store, paid the cashier, sacked up the food, and went home.

"That's how my prayer life has been lately -- all these issues lying loose in the trunk -- nothing is organized, and I'm always veering off to fringe topics."

Then the preacher can get in the groove again and go hurtling down the road toward glory. It doesn't hurt if the truck dives into a ditch now and then, as long as it gets back on the road and doesn't collide with a tree. But that rhythm is important because it keeps people listening. And the stories are crucial to the formula because they give the parishioners a chance to rest and, at the same time, they will get some insight about life.

Another thing Generation X people like is experience. Rather than having a talking head in the pulpit remembering how Jesus fished in the Sea of Galilee, they want experience. They want to hear about other people's experiences and they want to share their own on some kind of personal level. So, instead of sermons, some Generation X churches have discussions where people can share their lives.

Does this mean the sermon as we know it is on the way out?

It will never disappear as long as clergy strive to communicate the faith.

Clark D. Morphew