WHY WE PREACH

This I wrote and posted in two parts back in 2008 entitled "Preaching: Why we do it" Parts 1 & 2. Here it is combined and re-posted.

"For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect. For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God."

- I Corinthians 1:17, 18

"If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God."

- I Peter 4:11

I know that some priests consider preaching to be a necessary evil, straining to get through a mere seven-minute homily. One priest asked me how I felt about preaching (why are we Americans so obsessed with how we feel anyway?), and I told him how much I feel at home and in my element when in the pulpit. Like Jeremiah, the word of God is a fire in my bones, and I simply have to proclaim it. He shook his head, and he told me how it was with him: "I try to play it down, so it doesn't get in the way of the sacrament." I told him I was not buying it. The word of God and the sacraments of his Church are never in competition, and without sound preaching, how do we prepare people to receive the body and blood of the Lord? I did not say, but thought later, that of all the excuses for dereliction of duty, a sanctimonious one has to be the most odious. Recall that last part of the Imperative Prayer in the Ordinal: "And be thou a faithful Dispenser of the Word of God, and of his holy Sacraments; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Before I make my major point, I want to ask why it is that any priest has trouble thinking of what to say in a sermon? For crying out loud, we have the greatest writers of all behind us. Moses, David, Isaiah, James, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, along with Peter and Paul, to name a few. Everything they wrote came straight from the Holy Spirit. As the papal document Dominus Iesus put it so well about the books of scripture: "These books have God as their author." Just lean back into the scriptures, pray for the power of the Holy Spirit, and let the truth flow out like living water. You have it in you: The part that is knowledge by diligence, and power and charisma through the laying on of the bishop's hands.

Is the sermon merely a little instruction, something mild and short and tasteful? Too many Anglo-Catholics have decided that good preaching is a Protestant sort of thing; so, to prove what good Catholics they are, they aspire to be lousy preachers. All too often they accomplish their goal. Have they never heard of the great Catholic preachers in the ancient Church? Was Chrysostom so named (Golden-Tongued) because he offered forgettable seven-minute homilies? Furthermore, why do we preach at all? And, for that poor clergyman who feared that he might compete with the sacrament, it is because of the sacrament that your preaching must be excellent.

I believe we ought to take a good look at where the sermon is placed in our Liturgy (yes, in our Liturgy, not as an extra tacked onto it). It is followed directly (in the BCP we use) by the Offertory, and prayer. But this leads to the General Confession. What is this all about? The General Confession is a prayer of cleansing, followed by a General Absolution that only a priest may say, which rubric itself shows that the act is sacramental, not merely ceremonial. Unless it is intended as a real Absolution it would not be reserved to the priesthood. Look at the words which preceded it:

"YE who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways; Draw near with faith, and take this holy Sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to Almighty God, devoutly kneeling."

In good Evangelical terms, we may call this an "Altar Call." The difference is, "we have an altar"1 unlike many others. The call goes out to the people that in order to approach in a few minutes, to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, their hearts must be cleansed, their consciences must be healed from sin. This is the laver, and it is the fountain of cleansing in Christ's blood.

After the General Confession, note what is said by the priest, with the rubric itself included here for your attention:

"¶ Then shall the Priest (the Bishop if he be present) stand up, and turning to the People, say,

ALMIGHTY God, our heavenly Father, who of his great mercy hath promised forgiveness of sins to all those who with hearty repentance and true faith turn unto him; Have mercy upon you; pardon and deliver you from all your sins; confirm and strengthen you in all goodness; and bring you to everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Look at both the call to confession and the Absolution, and notice the conditional nature of both. It is no small matter that the 1979 so-called Prayer Book, in its Rite II, removed the conditions, and made the whole thing a matter of mere priestcraft and magic. The General Confession must be accompanied by the sincerity of true repentance, a condition that is always necessary for the efficacy of the sacrament of Absolution, whether General or private.

The call to Confession is conditional as well, a reminder before the confession is made that "hearty repentance and true faith" must be present at this point. To replace this Call with something else, such as I have heard among even Continuing Anglicans, is a grave mistake. I have heard it replaced often with this insufficient and disappointing formula: "Let us pray for the whole state of Christ's Church, beginning with the words of the General Confession." Then the Prayer for the Whole State of Christ's Church is skipped, and the Confession is said without this eloquent invitation that our Anglican fathers had the wisdom to provide.

Consider the importance of this: The people are about to come forward for the Food and Drink of Eternal Life. 2 They are about to receive one of those two sacraments that are "generally necessary to salvation."3 The sermon that precedes this must have an aim not unlike the best preaching of some of the finest Protestant Evangelists, such as Billy Graham. These men see the purpose of their preaching as no less than the salvation of souls, the difference between something far more important than life and death. The difference, as I said, is that "we have an altar" and on that altar the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, "the food and drink of eternal life." Our altar call has this substantial reality that theirs lacks. All the more reason, because the people come forward to eat and drink Christ, and they are in a state that is either worthy or unworthy. They must first have their consciences cleansed, their souls washed by a sincere confession "with hearty repentance and true faith," so that the priestly Absolution is received into the good ground of a believing heart. So, they come, they eat and drink, and they live forever.

Preach as though the souls of those who hear you depend on what you say. Endeavor to bring them, by your words face to face with Jesus Christ. For, indeed, "in so doing thou mayest save thyself and them that hear thee."4

PART II

Let us now focus on the rhyme and reason for entering the pulpit in the first place. These are practical items.

1. Preaching must be pastoral.

A good sermon need not be the most clever, the finest writing, nor a brilliant display of theater or performing arts. On the other hand, it must not become merely a ceremonial routine, something to get through because, well, there it is in the rubrics. A good sermon must come from a pastoral heart, and be delivered by a father who loves his congregation and wants to feed them. It must come from a physician who wants to heal wounds, diagnose illness, and provide a cure. This is why I advise you who preach, not to look at the ceiling, the door to the church, or any other fixed point, but to move your eyes across the congregation, engaging people face to face, while you speak to their minds and hearts. This is about feeding them, curing their souls, helping them to know the Father and Jesus Christ whom he has sent (John 17:3). It must never become anything less, and it is your responsibility to see that it does not.

2. Preaching must be theological

By "theological" I do not mean academic, since the challenge in preaching is not to speak to scholars and theologians, but to communicate to everyone. That, far more than academic speaking, is the more difficult. By "theological" I mean that it must be based on the revelation of God in scripture, and it must bring out the true meaning.

Believe it or not, people really do want to understand their Faith. Some clergy think that people will choke on theology, and that it is best not to present it to them. The people have just said the great Creed of our Faith, a creed filled with the most profound words that summarize the whole Bible, and therefore contain the height and depth of Divine revelation. It is a literary puzzle also, jumping from metaphor to direct statement of fact; for example: "...light of light, very God of very God..." If they can say these words, they deserve some explanation. And, it is your responsibility and office to teach them.

The Incarnation, which includes the entirety of the Gospel, is theology- real theology as revealed by God. In order to meet the needs of the people, in line with point number one above, this is the medicine, and the food.

3. Preaching must be Biblical

You are called and ordained to preach the Word of God, not your own ideas; not even your own good ideas. The scriptures have been read to the whole congregation, and you have no need to find anything else for your material. Furthermore, you must not draw from any other material as your main text and direction. You must draw out the meaning of the scriptures.

At the risk of looking egotistical, I will quote another earlier post:

"While walking the earth, the Son of God proclaimed that the Old Testament scriptures were, in fact, actually testifying about Him. After His resurrection He expounded on the meaning of all the scriptures as the things concerning Himself, and opened the minds of His disciples to understand them.

"So, too, the New Testament is rich with the reports of Christ’s actions, His words, His life, His death and His resurrection. They tell us, also, who He is: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God… And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. (John 1:1,2, 14).” It goes on to tell us how His Incarnation is extended in this world through time and space by His Church, founded by Him and indwelt by His Spirit. The doctrines of that Church are forever enshrined in the Epistles, and our hope made firm by the last prophetic Revelation.

"This is the hammer that breaks the rock in pieces, a fire that bursts forth and blazes, consuming everything, and making new life. It is a power that transcends every natural force, and every embellishment of those forces, electric or atomic. “The voice of the Lord is mighty in operation; the voice of the LORD is a glorious voice…the voice of the LORD shaketh the wilderness (Psalm 29: 4, 7 BCP).” The scriptures kill and make alive, meeting the truest and deepest needs of man. And yet, many clergymen struggle very hard, trying to think of something to say. Why?

"Every seminary everywhere ought to teach a very important principle: It is not the duty of the clergy to blunt the sharpness, to soften the hammer, or to quench the fire. Woe to the preacher who protects the people from the word that kills, because he protects them also from being made alive- truly and forever alive. Woe to the preacher who acts as a buffer, deflecting the force of the scriptures to soften the blow, because in protecting from the stroke, he prevents the healing. If his labors in the pulpit amount to a lifetime of standing between the people and the word of God, reducing its effect, taming it and making it polite, presentable and harmless, he will have nothing to show for it in the end but wood, hay and stubble instead of gold, silver and precious stones.

"It far easier to preach if a man will ride the scriptures like a wave, letting them make their own point, and arrive at their own destination (informed by the Tradition of the Church). If the passages that have been read speak of life and death, then elaborate on life and death. If they speak of repentance then preach that men should repent. When they encourage faith, proclaim faith. When they warn of Hell and the judgment to come, then blow the trumpet as a faithful watchman on the walls. When they comfort, speak as a pastor who feeds the sheep. Let the meaning of the scriptures be expounded to their full effect, proclaiming from them the truth that affects the eternal destiny of the souls in your care."

There it is: 1. Pastoral 2.Theological 3. Scriptural.

One last word of advice: If all this seems a bit too much for a mere man, all the better. Pray earnestly for the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit, both in giving you grace and power to preach, and to the people the grace to hear and receive. None of us can afford anything less than prayerful dependence on the Holy Spirit.

1. Hebrews 13:10

2. John 6: 53-58

3. Anglican Catechism: "Question. How many Sacraments hath Christ ordained in his Church?

Answer. Two only, as generally necessary to salvation; that is to say, Baptism, and the Supper of the Lord."

4. I Timothy 4:16

Lex Credendi

It is a favorite expression of many, Lex Orandi Lex Credendi. Literally, it translates "The law of prayer is the law of belief." It means, in practical terms, that as people pray, so they believe. At its best it supports the idea that the Book of Common Prayer is a Formulary, and that by liturgical prayer the Church passes on its teaching through practice. This is why our service of Holy Communion is one of the best evangelistic and catechetical tools we have. It teaches the whole Gospel every time it is celebrated. Every part of it, the Creed, the Canon of Consecration, etc., is at one time prayer, worship, evangelism and catechesis. The offices of Daily Morning and Evening Prayer also instruct as they are practiced.

Nonetheless, it is not wise for clergy to depend so heavily on this concept that they fail to teach diligently. The Canon Law of the ACC requires, in full consistency with the practice of the Church from earliest times, that at the very least every Sunday the priest shall preach, or cause to be preached, a sermon in the church. This is the minimum standard for carrying out his work as a minister of God's word, not the maximum. A sermon is not a seven minute homily carried out as a necessary evil; it is the preaching of God's word with preparation and prayer, carried out with diligence, produced by true work of the most responsible kind. Yes, the truth is well expressed in the liturgy, but somehow the human mind cannot comprehend it without teaching and preaching. 

Repetition has both an advantage and a disadvantage. The advantage is that it enters the long term memory and stays there. Every priest who visits the elderly in nursing homes to bring Communion to them, when dealing with those who are barely able to speak and whose eyes can no longer read, sees that people raised on the Book of Common Prayer are joining in, praying from memory, moving their lips. It works. 

But, the disadvantage is that people who recite the words can shut out the meaning. One elderly woman, greeting a rector after a service in the Episcopal Church in 1980, unhappy with their 1979 book, complained: "If Jesus could hear that new book, he would roll over in his grave." She had said the words, "On the third day he rose again" thousands of times; but, somehow, she had ceased to hear those words. Lex Orandi is not enough, by itself, to produce Lex Credendi; the teaching and preaching ministry remains a chief responsibility of all priests.

Finally, at its worst, Lex Orandi Lex Credendi can be misused in theological debate. Individuals may insist that they can raise pious opinion to the level of dogma, or perhaps even argue erroneous opinion, by treating all approved or allowed prayers as if they were equal to the Canon of Scripture; though the latter may involve twisting the meaning of prayers or failing to think them through. This approach does not work, however, on orthodox theologians. 

For me, the slogan is more accurate if we reverse it: Lex Credendi Lex Orandi: As I believe, so I pray. After years of reading and studying the word of God, by which I mean the holy Scriptures, I am able to pray only according to my convictions. Eventually, for every student of theology, this must become the case. And, this too is a strength of our Book of Common Prayer tradition. Those who really know the Scriptures have no qualms about saying "amen" to the prayers in that book. C.S. Lewis pointed out that this is an advantage to having a proper liturgy instead of public prayers composed by a minister or improvised: No one fears to say "amen." Our Book of Common Prayer is so good and sound, that the more we know the Bible the more easily and readily we use our liturgy, and the more readily we say "amen" to it.

What Anglican clergy can learn from Billy Graham

God proved His love on the Cross. When Christ hung, and bled, and died, it was God saying to the world, "I love you." -Billy Graham

...And be thou a faithful Dispenser of the Word of God, and of his holy Sacraments; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
-From The Form and Manner of Ordering Priests, Ordinal.

Many "televangelists" have a bad name, as well many of them have deserved. Some have no scandals attached to them, but they come across as clowns, entertainers or as hustlers for money (robbing churches of the rightful pledges of their members). Some are trendy, or just plain weird. Billy Graham has never been like them; in fact his televised "crusades" were old-fashioned Baptist revival services; and that authenticity and genuine approach has come across with dignity that others have lacked.

Despite the obvious differences...

Yes, we know that our ministry, as Anglican priests, includes the east side of the rail, that is the sacraments; we do not wear Baptist vestments (suit and tie), and we know all of the things that create a gulf between us and them-not any specific "them," just, them. But, lately I discovered that a cable channel has been showing old videos of Billy Graham preaching in stadiums, some of which sermons I distinctly remember having seen, most likely before some of you were born. Despite the obvious differences between my Anglican ways, and the Baptist ways of Billy Graham, I recognize Someone else who was almost visibly present in Graham's Christ-centered preaching. That is, the Holy Ghost who Himself bears witness to Jesus Christ in power, animating any preacher who is not afraid to call "all men everywhere to repent."

It seems funny that Baptists and other revivalists have an "altar call," inasmuch as they have no altar. This really comes from us, however, because in every Holy Communion service we issue the true Altar Call, or the Invitation:

Ye who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways; Draw near with faith, and take this holy Sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to Almighty God, devoutly kneeling.

Yes, we are able to follow up with the Absolution, as priests, for those who confess with "hearty repentance and true faith." But, have we actually taken care in our sermons to speak directly and seriously so as to give genuine weight to the words of the Invitation before the General Confession? I believe our preaching should always be part of "the ministry of reconciliation." (II Cor. 5:18) To that end I suggest learning a few things about effective preaching from a world larger than merely our own ethos. Assuming we all have the maturity to appreciate the good things of wisdom, even from those who are not of our fold, I want to point out a few things that can be learned from Billy Graham. These relate only to one part of our ministry, but an important part, namely preaching.

1. Speak directly

No flowery language, no attempt to impress anybody with sophisticated and fashionable trends. And, please, no inspirational messages or sentimental rambling from personal anecdotes. Speak directly to the real need of people, in terms they appreciate and understand.

2. Speak with authority

Constantly, Billy Graham would say, "the Bible says..." Certainly, Anglicans can say that too, and we should say it often. In the pulpit we are supposed to present God's word, not our own ideas, not even our best ideas.

3. Speak with passion

Not feigned or false passion; but certainly with an inner fire that comes from within by the Holy Spirit.

4. Speak with urgency

If we are calling people to a serious encounter with God, (which, by the way, receiving the Sacrament always is, even to those who do not know the weight of it), we should have as much urgency in our sermons as Graham exhibited in his evangelistic preaching. "For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the day of salvation have I succored thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation." (II Cor.6:2) The message must be, as it has always been in Graham's sermons, Be reconciled to God through his Son right now-there is no later. We must take care that no one, especially those who hear us week after week, depart this life without real preparation. Have we presented both a sober warning and the mercy of God in Christ? If we preach to someone every Sunday for years, as he sits in a pew, and he dies unprepared, how will we answer for what we did with all that time, all those opportunities?

5. Call sin, sin.

And do not hesitate to go against the grain, against the zeitgeist. Do not fear, at times, to mention actual sins by name if need be, and to denounce their destructive and dangerous end.

6. Call death, death

Don't fail to remind everyone that we are all mortal. Not only was this characteristic of Billy Graham's preaching, strange as that was in modern times. This was characteristic of all Christian preaching through the ages until now. It is really the Catholic Tradition to preach with this reminder of the inevitable placed before all hearers. Today, however, we are afraid to spoil the fun. We do not want to ruin, by mention of death and dying, the warm fuzzies, as if church is about a nice cozy feeling; even though death is certain, and even though we know the remedy to it.

7. Stick to the main point

Do not get sidetracked in your sermons with anything that distracts people's attention from their greatest need, that is to be always reconciled to God, to know God, and to serve God; and do not distract from the central message of Jesus Christ. The pulpit is not the place for side issues. There is no sermon time to waste on the things of this world that passes away. This is the only way, by the way, for our sermons to be in true harmony with our liturgy-or have you not noticed?

So, these are things to learn from one of the finest preachers in modern history, a master orator, and certainly a Christian man who has earned the respect of all.

Here is one example, from 1959.

Preaching, why we do it Part II

Following up on an earlier post, I want to offer a brief and simple overview to keep those of us who preach focused on the rhyme and reason for entering the pulpit in the first place. These are practical items.

1. Preaching must be pastoral.

A good sermon need not be the most clever, the finest writing, nor a brilliant display of theater or performing arts. On the other hand, it must not become merely a ceremonial routine, something to get through because, well, there it is in the rubrics. A good sermon must come from a pastoral heart, and be delivered by a father who loves his congregation and wants to feed them. It must come from a physician who wants to heal wounds, diagnose illness, and provide a cure. This is why I advise you who preach, not to look at the ceiling, the door to the church, or any other fixed point, but to move your eyes across the congregation, engaging people face to face, while you speak to their minds and hearts. This is about feeding them, curing their souls, helping them to know the Father and Jesus Christ whom he has sent (John 17:3). It must never become anything less, and it is your responsibility to see that it does not.

2. Preaching must be theological

By "theological" I do not mean academic, since the challenge in preaching is not to speak to scholars and theologians, but to communicate to everyone. That, far more than academic speaking, is the more difficult. By "theological" I mean that it must be based on the revelation of God in scripture, and it must bring out the true meaning.

Believe it or not, people really do want to understand their Faith. Some clergy think that people will choke on theology, and that it is best not to present it to them. The people have just said the great Creed of our Faith, a creed filled with the most profound words that summarize the whole Bible, and therefore contain the height and depth of Divine revelation. It is a literary puzzle also, jumping from metaphor to direct statement of fact; for example: "...light of light, very God of very God..." If they can say these words, they deserve some explanation. And, it is your responsibility and office to teach them.

The Incarnation, which includes the entirety of the Gospel, is theology- real theology as revealed by God. In order to meet the needs of the people, in line with point number one above, this is the medicine, and the food.

3. Preaching must be Biblical

You are called and ordained to preach the Word of God, not your own ideas; not even your own good ideas. The scriptures have been read to the whole congregation, and you have no need to find anything else for your material. Furthermore, you must not draw from any other material as your main text and direction. You must draw out the meaning of the scriptures.

At the risk of looking egotistical, I will quote another earlier post:

"While walking the earth, the Son of God proclaimed that the Old Testament scriptures were, in fact, actually testifying about Him. After His resurrection He expounded on the meaning of all the scriptures as the things concerning Himself, and opened the minds of His disciples to understand them.

"So, too, the New Testament is rich with the reports of Christ’s actions, His words, His life, His death and His resurrection. They tell us, also, who He is: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God… And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. (John 1:1,2, 14).” It goes on to tell us how His Incarnation is extended in this world through time and space by His Church, founded by Him and indwelt by His Spirit. The doctrines of that Church are forever enshrined in the Epistles, and our hope made firm by the last prophetic Revelation.

"This is the hammer that breaks the rock in pieces, a fire that bursts forth and blazes, consuming everything, and making new life. It is a power that transcends every natural force, and every embellishment of those forces, electric or atomic. “The voice of the Lord is mighty in operation; the voice of the LORD is a glorious voice…the voice of the LORD shaketh the wilderness (Psalm 29: 4, 7 BCP).” The scriptures kill and make alive, meeting the truest and deepest needs of man. And yet, many clergymen struggle very hard, trying to think of something to say. Why?

"Every seminary everywhere ought to teach a very important principle: It is not the duty of the clergy to blunt the sharpness, to soften the hammer, or to quench the fire. Woe to the preacher who protects the people from the word that kills, because he protects them also from being made alive- truly and forever alive. Woe to the preacher who acts as a buffer, deflecting the force of the scriptures to soften the blow, because in protecting from the stroke, he prevents the healing. If his labors in the pulpit amount to a lifetime of standing between the people and the word of God, reducing its effect, taming it and making it polite, presentable and harmless, he will have nothing to show for it in the end but wood, hay and stubble instead of gold, silver and precious stones.

"It far easier to preach if a man will ride the scriptures like a wave, letting them make their own point, and arrive at their own destination (informed by the Tradition of the Church). If the passages that have been read speak of life and death, then elaborate on life and death. If they speak of repentance then preach that men should repent. When they encourage faith, proclaim faith. When they warn of Hell and the judgment to come, then blow the trumpet as a faithful watchman on the walls. When they comfort, speak as a pastor who feeds the sheep. Let the meaning of the scriptures be expounded to their full effect, proclaiming from them the truth that affects the eternal destiny of the souls in your care."

There it is: 1. Pastoral 2.Theological 3. Scriptural.

One last word of advice: If all this seems a bit too much for a mere man, all the better. Pray earnestly for the guidance and power of the Holy Spirit, both in giving you grace and power to preach, and to the people the grace to hear and receive. None of us can afford anything less than prayerful dependence on the Holy Spirit.

Preaching: Why do we do it?

"For Christ sent me not to baptize, but to preach the gospel: not with wisdom of words, lest the cross of Christ should be made of none effect. For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the power of God."
I Corinthians 1:17, 18
"If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God."
I Peter 4:11

I know that some priests consider preaching to be a necessary evil, straining to get through a mere seven-minute homily. One priest asked me how I felt about preaching (why are we Americans so obsessed with how we feel anyway?), and I told him how much I feel at home and in my element when in the pulpit. Like Jeremiah, the word of God is a fire in my bones, and I simply have to proclaim it. He shook his head, and he told me how it was with him: "I try to play it down, so it doesn't get in the way of the sacrament." I told him I was not buying it. The word of God and the sacraments of his Church are never in competition, and without sound preaching, how do we prepare people to receive the body and blood of the Lord? I did not say, but thought later, that of all the excuses for dereliction of duty, a sanctimonious one has to be the most odious. Recall that last part of the Imperative Prayer in the Ordinal: "And be thou a faithful Dispenser of the Word of God, and of his holy Sacraments; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Before I make my major point, I want to ask why it is that any priest has trouble thinking of what to say in a sermon? For crying out loud, we have the greatest writers of all behind us. Moses, David, Isaiah, James, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, along with Peter and Paul, to name a few. Everything they wrote came straight from the Holy Spirit. As the papal document Dominus Iesus put it so well about the books of scripture: "These books have God as their author." Just lean back into the scriptures, pray for the power of the Holy Spirit, and let the truth flow out like living water. You have it in you: The part that is knowledge by diligence, and power and charisma through the laying on of the bishop's hands.
Is the sermon merely a little instruction, something mild and short and tasteful? Too many Anglo-Catholics have decided that good preaching is a Protestant sort of thing; so, to prove what good Catholics they are, they aspire to be lousy preachers. All too often they accomplish their goal. Have they never heard of the great Catholic preachers in the ancient Church? Was Chrysostom so named (Golden-Tongued) because he offered forgettable seven-minute homilies? Furthermore, why do we preach at all? And, for that poor clergyman who feared that he might compete with the sacrament, it is because of the sacrament that your preaching must be excellent.

I believe we ought to take a good look at where the sermon is placed in our Liturgy (yes, in our Liturgy, not as an extra tacked onto it). It is followed directly (in the BCP we use) by the Offertory, and prayer. But this leads to the General Confession. What is this all about? The General Confession is a prayer of cleansing, followed by a General Absolution that only a priest may say, which rubric itself shows that the act is sacramental, not merely ceremonial. Unless it is intended as a real Absolution it would not be reserved to the priesthood. Look at the words which preceded it:

"YE who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and are in love and charity with your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and walking from henceforth in his holy ways; Draw near with faith, and take this holy Sacrament to your comfort; and make your humble confession to Almighty God, devoutly kneeling."

In good Evangelical terms, we may call this an "Altar Call." The difference is, "we have an altar"1 unlike many others. The call goes out to the people that in order to approach in a few minutes, to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, their hearts must be cleansed, their consciences must be healed from sin. This is the laver, and it is the fountain of cleansing in Christ's blood.

After the General Confession, note what is said by the priest, with the rubric itself included here for your attention:

"¶ Then shall the Priest (the Bishop if he be present) stand up, and turning to the People, say,

ALMIGHTY God, our heavenly Father, who of his great mercy hath promised forgiveness of sins to all those who with hearty repentance and true faith turn unto him; Have mercy upon you; pardon and deliver you from all your sins; confirm and strengthen you in all goodness; and bring you to everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Look at both the call to confession and the Absolution, and notice the conditional nature of both. It is no small matter that the 1979 so-called Prayer Book, in its Rite II, removed the conditions, and made the whole thing a matter of mere priestcraft and magic. The General Confession must be accompanied by the sincerity of true repentance, a condition that is always necessary for the efficacy of the sacrament of Absolution, whether General or private.

The call to Confession is conditional as well, a reminder before the confession is made that "hearty repentance and true faith" must be present at this point. To replace this Call with something else, such as I have heard among even Continuing Anglicans, is a grave mistake. I have heard it replaced often with this insufficient and disappointing formula: "Let us pray for the whole state of Christ's Church, beginning with the words of the General Confession." Then the Prayer for the Whole State of Christ's Church is skipped, and the Confession is said without this eloquent invitation that our Anglican fathers had the wisdom to provide.

Consider the importance of this: The people are about to come forward for the Food and Drink of Eternal Life. 2 They are about to receive one of those two sacraments that are "generally necessary to salvation."3 The sermon that precedes this must have an aim not unlike the best preaching of some of the finest Protestant Evangelists, such as Billy Graham. These men see the purpose of their preaching as no less than the salvation of souls, the difference between something far more important than life and death. The difference, as I said, is that "we have an altar" and on that altar the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, "the food and drink of eternal life." Our altar call has this substantial reality that theirs lacks. All the more reason, because the people come forward to eat and drink Christ, and they are in a state that is either worthy or unworthy. They must first have their consciences cleansed, their souls washed by a sincere confession "with hearty repentance and true faith," so that the priestly Absolution is received into the good ground of a believing heart. So, they come, they eat and drink, and they live forever.

Preach as though the souls of those who hear you depend on what you say. Endeavor to bring them, by your words face to face with Jesus Christ. For, indeed, "in so doing thou mayest save thyself and them that hear thee."4

1. Hebrews 13:10
2. John 6: 53-58
3. Anglican Catechism: "Question. How many Sacraments hath Christ ordained in his Church?
Answer. Two only, as generally necessary to salvation; that is to say, Baptism, and the Supper of the Lord."
4. I Timothy 4:16

Irrelevant Relevance

"You are in the village."

An advantage to being young, to being twelve years old in fact, was that I could see through the silliness of a very up to date priest trying, despite his quadragenerian years, to make the service of Holy Communion seem hip, cool and, dare I say it, relevant to the young. It was 1970, and just as flower children were becoming a thing of the past, their style and message were being noticed by East Coast Episcopal clergy and liturgists.

So it was that at the Summer camp of the Claggett Diocesan Center, a gathering of kids ages twelve to fifteen from all over the Episcopal Churches of Maryland for a week’s fun in the sun, the priest who was in charge that year began the service in a colorful, painted tee-shirt with a weird rainbow stole, while a camp counselor played George Harrison’s Here Comes the Sun for our opening hymn. "Little darlin’, it’s been a long and lonely winter...here comes the sun..."

Then suddenly we were using those familiar words of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer (American). Even at age twelve it struck me that Cranmer and the Beatles make a very superficial combination. Do not misunderstand me; I liked the Beatles and had every record that a twelve year-old boy could afford; but, I also knew when my leg was being pulled, and an adult was making a fool out of himself. I am glad he did not see Hair or he might have looked sillier. Of course, he would have worn his stole, or so I assume.

I would not have worded it this way back then; but, it all comes of trying to be relevant. In fact, it comes of trying to make Christianity relevant to the times, instead of being faithful to the timelessness of its eternal verity. Only in its timeless and unchanging truth do we see that Christ’s light in this world is always and everywhere relevant because of its nature. Attempts to make it relevant only put it a bit beyond reach, and rob it of its force. They also expose a certain disingenuousness.

This is because the all too familiar issues of the day get in the way, and crowd out the genuine relevance of the Gospel. Why is it assumed that the beauty and meaning of traditional liturgy, the words of scripture, and the classic hymns must undergo a mutation, and be encumbered by all of the trappings of secular culture and entertainment? Not to mention the oft distressing news headlines from which a few minutes respite can be therapy in itself.

Perhaps without the dilution of perceived relevance, the true relevance is too disturbing. The words of the liturgy and the scripture pierce the heart, and bring us face to face with the greatest reality of all. "Men loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil..." When the light hurts the eyes, perhaps blinding them as the eyes of St. Paul at his conversion, a bit of today’s news, some meaningless- or at least less meaningful- chatter can provide comfort and protection.

A lot of noise is quite useful in helping the mind not to think. The Village, from the 60s television series The Prisoner, was a place in which thinking was discouraged in every possible way. The brain child of a life long Catholic, Patrick McGoohan, the series portrayed the horrors of life as it would be in a secularist’s paradise. A motto known to every villager was "Questions are a burden to others, answers a burden to oneself." The most effective remedy for an overly inquisitive mind was a frontal lobotomy, though used only in extreme cases.

In the world of today no one needs a lobotomy; the constant intrusion of rollicking, bumping "music" is quite sufficient for the same purpose. I have found that I cannot use a grocery store, shopping mall or even a restaurant without the intrusion of constant noise. A lover of Bach myself, I would have it very differently were I running these places. Real music stimulates the mind, or as Bach put it, alluding to St. Paul’s Epistle to the Romans, it "renews the mind."

But, when I must eat out, in an affordable spot for lunch, I often carry a book with me, or perhaps the latest Touchstone, wishing to read and engage my mind. Reading with a plate of Szechuan chicken seems very pleasant in the early afternoon. But, who can read when thudding and imbecilic music is suddenly attacking the mind, competing with the thoughts of writers, and demanding attention (as also with conversation; how often do we have to shout our conversations to the people sitting next to us in these places?)? Shopkeepers and restaurant managers used to know better. Oh, to find a quiet place.

I recall once going into a well-known restaurant, one of the big chains, to meet a man who needed to see me. The experience was surreal. In every corner a television set was playing some inane soap opera, but at the same time a radio was blaring "music" from ceiling speakers arranged to create equal intrusion into every corner. Obviously, it was assumed that people want to be surrounded by sight and sound, but not to concentrate on anything, just as in McGoohan’s Village it was impossible to turn off the sound system.

My point is that "relevance" does to the liturgy and to the scripture what the noise does to the mind in secular venues. Other methods can be employed as well.

Sermons often become the place for relevance, of the distracting kind, either upon special occasions or when big news has taken place. A very sad piece of news to come to us, only a few years ago, was the destruction of the Columbia as it reentered the earth’s atmosphere, and seven lives were lost. I was scheduled to preach the next day, being Sunday.

I was handed a list of the seven names by a helpful friend, with the suggestion that I carry the list to the pulpit for my sermon. That Sunday was the Feast of the Purification, in which we remember when St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin Mary took our Lord to the temple. The Gospel reading was a selection from the second chapter of St. Luke, including the place where Simeon first prays the Nunc Dimittis, "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation..."

My task was to expound upon the Word of God, and I could think of nothing more relevant to the true need of everyone in the church that day than "a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel." This is the testimony, that light has come into the world; and with all due respect for the astronauts who had died the day before, I could not lessen the relevance of my sermon by the distraction of news (but, of course they were remembered in prayer).

Perhaps, if I were more clever, I could have managed to do both, and I have no doubt that other preachers with more talent than I, did achieve this very goal. But, I could not think of a way, at least without it being forced and awkward. I have a very real fear about dwelling upon current events in the pulpit, not that it is always unwise to address them. Indeed, it can be necessary at times. However, sermons do not need anything but the honest work of exegesis, to accomplish their best purpose. The Word of God is always relevant, far more relevant than today’s headlines, to everything in human life that truly matters. I will not dilute its effect, or weaken its force.

Suggesting that we need to refrain from concentrating upon the less meaningful chatter, the perceived relevance, and that we need to give it no place in the worship of the Church, is a very practical and simple application of basic Christian asceticism. It is consistent with the spirit of St. Benedict, ascetical practice to advance spiritual progress, no less for the layman than for the religious or the cleric. Distracting the people with relevance from the spirit of the age is a very indulgent practice, and obstructs the work of the Holy Spirit upon the human spirit.

For true relevance, it is best neither to assume a persona in accord with the latest fads in popular culture, nor to mimic the talking heads on the News. The truth of the Gospel is only dulled by such efforts. One must instead "put on Christ," especially those who are leading the people in worship, and preaching in the pulpits. The eternal and unchanging light of Christ is sufficiently relevant to lighten every corner where darkness dwells.

Killing the Velveteen Rabbit

Robert Hart +

It was Ash Wednesday many years ago, and my wife Diane was sitting next to me in church (something we got to enjoy before my ordination). The scriptures for the day had been read, powerful and inspiring, moving and challenging, telling us the serious nature of the penitential season of Lent into which we entered. The prophet Joel cried out to us from centuries past, but as if present in the church with us: “Rend your heart and not your garments, and turn unto the LORD your God.” The Lord Jesus Christ told us not to lay up for ourselves treasures on earth, but in Heaven; “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

Weighty words had been spoken, with the power to transform lives, words by which the Holy Spirit convicts the conscience. And at this point in the service, with the freshly read scriptures still having their effect in human hearts, a priest entered the pulpit, said his brief invocation, and proceeded to expound upon the text before him, fully prepared to exegete from it every ounce of meaning that his gifts allowed. But, the text before him was not one of the Bible passages we had heard. No. For the third time within a couple of years, once again a clergyman stood before us to tell us a story so important that it preempted any need to draw from the scriptures. Once again we were to hear, from the pulpit, the story of The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cliché moral of the story- to “get real.”

Frankly, sensing my call to the priesthood in those early years, and feeling quite tired of such feeble sermonettes, it took restraint to remain in my seat rather than charging the pulpit to impress the collar of the clergyman from all directions. Not again, not on Ash Wednesday for heaven’s sake! How tired I was of this velveteen rabbit chap, and of being told to “get real” by some poor inept fellow who, having the scriptures available to study, to “read, mark, learn and inwardly digest”, could not think of anything to say about them. How long would this velveteen rabbit trend remain fashionable anyway? It was time for serious resolve: If ever I were to meet this velveteen rabbit, I decided, I would kill it, and put the little rodent out of my misery.

I thought about the words of the Prophet Jeremiah: “He that hath my word, let him speak my word faithfully. What is The Velveteen Rabbit to the wheat? saith the LORD. Is not my word like as a fire? saith the LORD; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces? (Jeremiah 23: 28, 29).” It is one thing to enter a pulpit and preach heresy, the way that James Pike did just before his retirement as the Episcopal Bishop in San Francisco. In his last service, before presiding at the Holy Communion, he preached his final sermon in order to set everybody straight on why we should not believe in the Virgin Birth, Christ’s miracles, His atoning death or His resurrection (of course, not before leading the people in the “Nicene Creed”). As terrible as such heresy is, pure banality cannot be far behind.

Telling the people to “get real” like the toys in a children’s story is not quite as serious an offense as the last sermon of Pike. But, neither is it the word of God. “For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart (Hebrews 4:12).” The scriptures deal with something even more important than life and death; they speak directly to eternal destiny.

While walking the earth, the Son of God proclaimed that the Old Testament scriptures were, in fact, actually testifying about Him. After His resurrection He expounded on the meaning of all the scriptures as the things concerning Himself, and opened the minds of His disciples to understand them.

So, too, the New Testament is rich with the reports of Christ’s actions, His words, His life, His death and His resurrection. They tell us, also, who He is: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God… And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth. (John 1:1,2, 14).” It goes on to tell us how His Incarnation is extended in this world through time and space by His Church, founded by Him and indwelt by His Spirit. The doctrines of that Church are forever enshrined in the Epistles, and our hope made firm by the last prophetic Revelation.

This is the hammer that breaks the rock in pieces, a fire that bursts forth and blazes, consuming everything, and making new life. It is a power that transcends every natural force, and every embellishment of those forces, electric or atomic. “The voice of the Lord is mighty in operation; the voice of the LORD is a glorious voice…the voice of the LORD shaketh the wilderness (Psalm 29: 4, 7 BCP).” The scriptures kill and make alive, meeting the truest and deepest needs of man. And yet, many clergymen struggle very hard, trying to think of something to say. Why?

Every seminary everywhere ought to teach a very important principle: It is not the duty of the clergy to blunt the sharpness, to soften the hammer, or to quench the fire. Woe to the preacher who protects the people from the word that kills, because he protects them also from being made alive- truly and forever alive. Woe to the preacher who acts as a buffer, deflecting the force of the scriptures to soften the blow, because in protecting from the stroke, he prevents the healing. If his labors in the pulpit amount to a lifetime of standing between the people and the word of God, reducing its effect, taming it and making it polite, presentable and harmless, he will have nothing to show for it in the end but wood, hay and stubble instead of gold, silver and precious stones.

It far easier to preach if a man will ride the scriptures like a wave, letting them make their own point, and arrive at their own destination (informed by the Tradition of the Church). If the passages that have been read speak of life and death, then elaborate on life and death. If they speak of repentance then preach that men should repent. When they encourage faith, proclaim faith. When they warn of Hell and the judgment to come, then blow the trumpet as a faithful watchman on the walls. When they comfort, speak as a pastor who feeds the sheep. Let the meaning of the scriptures be expounded to their full effect, proclaiming from them the truth that affects the eternal destiny of the souls in your care.

Biblical Preaching

Readers of the Continuum are aware that I take the subject of preaching very seriously, and that I consider this to be perfectly consistent with Anglican Catholicism. I want to recommend an article in the March/ April 2007 edition of The Mandate, which is editied by Dr. Peter Toon. It is called The Great Charge, and is written by Rev. William Klock, a vicar in the Reformed Episcopal Church. To view it, you need to click the link, you need to have PDF on your computer, and you must scroll down to page 11.

It seems likely that Rev. Klock would have some differences with us, with our High Church understanding of the centrality of the Eucharist in the regular worship of the Church, and with our sacramental theology. In one point he even takes us to task:

The later fruits of the 19th Century Anglo-Catholic movement have led to an unbalanced emphasis on the Eucharist, which has resulted in a deemphasis on the importance of strong Biblical preaching. The end result has been the well-known ten-minute homily Even those of us distant from either the Liberal or Anglo-Catholic tradition can find it exceptionally easy to become lazy in our preaching.

I disagree with the charge of "an unbalanced emphasis on the Eucharist." But, I think he is not really too far wrong in general. Whereas I reject that specific charge, I agree with the gist of his remarks. But, I believe that we are unbalanced, all too often, not by placing the importance that we do on the Eucharist, but rather that we can be unbalanced by placing too little importance on preaching the Word of God. The "deemphasis on the importance of strong Biblical preaching" is, therefore, from this other angle, a valid criticism.

The problem comes from being reactive instead of proactive, and thereby losing our freedom to set a course based on honest convictions. This problem afflicts too many of us just as it does quite a large number of Roman Catholic priests. Because the Protestant emphasis gives priority to preaching over the sacraments, we feel the need to take the opposite position. In Six Little Books on the Priesthood by Saint John Chrysostom, the golden tongued Father warns us that if we teach strongly against one error we must avoid appearing to endorse the opposite error. For this reason, I think of him as the true father of a useful and practical via media philosophy. Just because the Protestant emphasis devalues the Blessed Sacrament is no reason for us to devalue the ministry of God's word. We do not have to let others set our agenda, even if it is by means of error that provokes a reaction.

Every man who has been ordained to the priesthood has been given both the gift and the charge to be "a faithful Dispenser of the Word of God, and of his holy Sacraments (Ordinal)." We do not live in a tension between these things, but rather with their complementarity. The idea that a powerful and meaningful sermon would, as one man told me, "distract the people from the sacrament," is an excuse for laziness. We are supposed to labor in the word and doctrine, to save both ourselves and those who hear us. "If any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of God; if any man minister, let him do it as of the ability which God giveth: that God in all things may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom be praise and dominion for ever and ever. Amen (I Peter 4:11)."

C.S. Lewis commented (in Surprised by Joy) on the Anglo-Catholic preachers he heard when he was a boy in school, that they made a lasting impression on him because they preached the great truths of the Christian Faith as men who believed it deeply. This is our authentic tradition, and one that we must endeavor to keep alive. It does not distract from the sacrament to preach a powerful sermon. Indeed, it may so convict hearts and minds to "hearty repentance and true faith" that people, who were otherwise minded, might receive the sacrament in a worthy manner.