Great storytelling weaves ways to alter lives
I remember a preacher who gave me so many good thoughts from the pulpit that I would not be able to thank him in 1,000 lifetimes.
For one thing, about once a year he would preach his demon rum sermon in which he would denounce sippers, imbibers, drinkers and drunkards in the same breath and with the same intensity. I realize now that he wanted to leave his parishioners no choice but to be completely alcohol-free forever.
I was thinking about him the other day, remembering how I would sit alone in my little church listening to him preach and marvel at the things he knew. I was just a wee lad but he awakened in me a curiosity about the world, especially about religion, that has never left me.
A wonderful gift to give a boy, wouldn't you say?
The thing about preachers that we must understand is this: They don't know how important they are.
Weeks go by and they will not have heard an intelligent word said about any of their sermons. Sure, they get the "Good sermon, Pastor" at the door from about 80 percent of parishioners. But seldom does a person pick up the telephone or stop by the office with a question or a point to discuss.
Preachers dont know whom they have inspired or how many have gone home with a new insight. When I was a teen-ager and my life was being assaulted by my appetites, it was the preacher who encouraged me to hold things in check. Because I was not always successful, I approached church apologetically.
Guilt was my occasional visitor, but this preacher, this man of letters, always encouraged me to move on with integrity. Yes, he preached the thou-shalt-not passages with fervor. He never let me believe that my justifications were real excuses. I was usually convicted of my sin.
But he also convinced me that a force of grace was available to me. He managed to tell me that my mistakes, if they didnt kill me, would make me a better person. The best preachers are always preparing a sermon. They play with ideas in their heads. They digest biblical texts during idle moments. They sing hymns silently in their minds. They search for stories that will illuminate our faith. They watch for trends, observe the emotions of people and listen for eloquent language that may make us smile or weep.
The best preachers are storytellers. They remember stories that will open the holy precepts of the book. And when they sit down to prepare a sermon, those stories come popping to the surface. They think backward, from this moment to all the past, which we know is filled with stories.
The best preachers are more human than holy. They see their nature as a gift to embrace rather than a curse to flee. If they are truly in touch with themselves, they understand when
others fail. When they preach, it is for stirring people rather than impressing the angels.
The best preachers aren't thinking about numbers: how many people in church, baptisms in a single year, teen-agers on a hayride, or how much money for the church coffers. They're thinking literature, stories, songs the best ideas humankind has ever created.
Into that mix of thought, they place the people they know best, those sitting in the pews who have shared so much of their lives and trusted this woman or man to treat them fairly and gently.
The best preachers will surprise their listeners. They'll be speeding down a highway heading in a familiar direction. Then suddenly they will turn a sharp corner and youll be coughing in the dust of a dirt road. Then up through a ditch and back on the highway again. If you always know where the sermon is headed, you might as well go home and tend the beef roast.
There was a time when preaching constituted some of the best literature produced in Western civilization. Today, great preaching is a rarity, a lost art struggling to survive in spite of ignorance, laziness, disinterest and avoid of cultivation.
That's why it should be our duty to cherish those who preach well. They are valuable beyond words.
Clark D. Morphew
1-31-98
