Where Do Sermons Go?

There is a recent article in the Christian Century questioning the importance and effectiveness of preaching. Where Do Sermons Go? is the title. It is an interesting question that I really had not given much thought to, mainly because I do not hear a lot of sermons - I simply give them. However, after reading this article I had a chilling feeling that perhaps all of the work I put into a Sunday morning could be for naught. I do not get a huge response each Sunday even though this past week I did get an email from someone saying that that Sunday’s sermon was excellent. Perhaps I should frame it or perhaps I should hire someone to take a video of the congregation while I am preaching. Could some be writing their grocery list or sleeping with their eyes open as their faces look a bit glazed over, or could people just be distracted by children making noises and moving around?

What really happens as people listen? I like to think that their lives are transformed, their hearts opened to new possibilities for loving others, and their minds stimulated to such a degree that endorphins are shooting off. Unfortunately, I know better.

People laugh and tell me, “Can’t you use an old one? No one will know.” Actually, when I look into the files and read an old sermon, I sometimes cannot remember I wrote it and, of course, I am almost shocked by what I wrote then. I have moved on…

Luther said, “We need a living voice of the Gospel”, or in Latin, viva vox. By this he meant the Gospel needs to be proclaimed from the heart. It is not something to be read from the Bible, it is to be proclaimed. I still have trouble sleeping the night before Sunday morning, and writing a sermon is always agony. I remain hopeful, however; I cannot worry about how effective I am. That is up to the Holy Spirit and to God. I am simply called to be faithful to this task, offering up the highest level of sincerity and effort as I open my mouth and words start to come out. My favorite quote on preaching is:

The preacher pulls the little chord that turns on the lectern light and deals out his note cards like a riverboat gambler. Two minutes from now he may have lost his listerners completely to their own thoughts, but at this minute he has them in the palm of his hand. (…) In the front pew the old ladies turn up their hearing aids, and the young lady slips her six-year-old a Lifesaver and a Magic Marker. A college sophomore, home for vacation, who is there because he was dragged there, slumps forward with his chin in his hand. The vice president of a bank who twice that week has seriously contemplated suicide places his hymnal in the rack. A pregnant girl feels the life stir inside of her. A high-school math teacher, who for twenty years has managed to keep his homosexuality a secret for the most part even from himself, creases his order of service down the center with his thumbnail and tucks it under his knee. (…) The stakes have never been higher. (From: Telling the Truth; The Gospel As Tragedy, Comedy & Fairy Tale by Frederick Buechner).