What Not to Preach, Reconsidered

A further thought on some previous posts (such as “What Is The Purpose of Preaching?”, “What Should We Preach?”, and “Preaching Jesus”) …

“Yet when I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!” ~ 1 Corinthians 9:16

I can’t believe that in all those posts, I missed quoting this perspective from Paul. The context is his right to receive financial support from those who heard the gospel from him, and his refusal to exercise it in order to preserve his integrity as a preacher and apostle.

I find this a poignant extension of his expressed resolve:

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” ~ 1 Corinthians 2:2.

A good rule of thumb.

So my answer to the question “What is the purpose of preaching?” would be phrased like this, I think:

To draw people closer to God through Jesus Christ.

There might well be a dozen better ways to phrase it, but for me this is the essence. Teaching is important, but if it doesn’t lead people closer to God through Christ, it doesn’t really qualify as good news (news, maybe) or gospel (because if it doesn’t involve Christ, it isn’t gospel), or preaching (because if it doesn’t involve gospel, it isn’t preaching).

I understand that this is a tedious and one-sided definition, and we can wheedle each other about it all we want to – but when all is said and nothing’s done, it’s what I strongly and deeply believe is the commonly understood definition of “preaching” among the believing proclaimers of century one.

What they preached and proclaimed was Christ, and Him crucified and risen – plus what I tend to think of as “the ongoing Story of Christ”: the effect of His gospel on the lives of His followers. That, too, is gospel (Acts 11; 15:12; 21:10-20).

I think they would have viewed the spending of too much proclamation and preaching time on anything else was not a worthwhile use of it. Some might well have thought time spent that way would have been too close to sharing men’s teachings, philosophy, controversy, genealogies, useless talk, and what is falsely called “knowledge.”

Heretics of that time were those who taught something other than the gospel, as nearly as I can tell.

So if I’m ever asked to preach again, I believe my rule of thumb about what not to preach will be: anything that is not – in one way or any other – the gospel.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

What do you think?

Possibility vs. Promise

Who among us would be willing to admit that they really, really want to believe in a Jesus who says, “If you have never heard of me – no matter how kind and loving and generous you are – if you have never heard of me, I will see to it that you fry in hell forever”?

I do, in fact, believe in Him; that He is the Son of God. But I do not believe His Word reveals Him to have said any such thing — either in His life here, or through the writers inspired by His Holy Spirit.

Yet many believers insist that this is what He means … placing an unbearably heavy burden on both the hearer to speak and convert, and upon the willing listener to hear where no one has spoken. What He says is that all come to the Father by Him, will be judged by Them, according to what they have said and done.

Belief in Him is never listed as some sort of prerequisite for those who have never heard of Him. It is, however, described as the naturally-expected response of those who have.

And for the believer, there is a promise of reconciliation with God and unending life that is never described as an impossibility for those who have never heard. That’s where the importance of the gospel resides: in transforming what’s possible to what’s promised.

I don’t know of anyone who would not exchange the possibility of receiving a treasure of immeasurable value for the promise of receiving it from Someone who lives and believes in them to spend it wisely and well.

Once they hear about it.

I think it’s time to put to rest the twin but oppositional misconceptions lies of universalism and the damnation of all souls who have never heard of Him.

One leads to an unhealthy disregard for the importance of living to please God and win others’ hearts with Christ’s love.

The other leads to an unhealthy arrogance about one’s salvation and an unhealthy presentation of God’s nature as uncaring toward those He does not choose to bless with messengers of His promise.

Both can sabotage the purity of that message as stated in scripture and its effectiveness, and I am convinced that Satan likes nothing better than doing so by distorting the Word through extremes of interpretation arrived at by great flaws of logic.

What God Wants/Doesn’t Want For Us

Those of us who believe in God often believe ourselves into one of two categories of faith: that God is perpetually angry and predominantly just or that God is constantly loving and always mercifully forgiving everything.

God number one just gives us laws, and if we don’t deduce them correctly and obey every one of them to the letter, we are eternally-conscious ash on the funeral pyre of hell. He expresses what He wants from us; what He wants for us to do.

God number two wants everyone to be saved, so no matter what we do and how heinous it is He will just mushy-hug us all into His heavenly home anyway. He expresses preferences for us rather than commands, and in the end it doesn’t matter whether we’ve lived up to them or not.

These naive extremes result from the logical fallacy that since these concepts of God seem oppositional to us, only one can be true. Nuh-uh. They could both be false. They could both have roots in truth. They might not be oppositional at all – and they aren’t.

I believe God is both merciful and just — and I’ve blogged about the reasons and the scriptures enough that I’m not going back over than road again here. I believe that what He expresses toward us are not merely commands or preferences … but the loving instructions and promises of what He wants for us.

What He tells us to be and do is what is ultimately best for us, and He tells us because He is righteous (it’s simply the right thing for a parent to do!) and because He loves us.

Angi and I have raised our kids well into teen-age now. If we’ve done our treasured job well, Matt and Laura will continue to make wise decisions that build their future and their relationships with others. The time for mere commandments is over; those were necessary when they were little and unable to make wise decisions yet for lack of experience. We rewarded obedience; we punished disobedience. Now that is becoming unnecessary; as they increasingly shoulder the responsibilities of life, life itself applies discipline. We do not intervene to remove the consequences of their choices because we love them and want them to grow in the directions that they choose.

Let’s pretend.

Let’s pretend that Angi and I had also been the parents of an older child and she had been our first. This child had helped us care for and nurture and teach the younger two, loved them as surely as we did, and in an unfortunate incident whose portent the younger children could not fully understand — a dare, perhaps — she had rescued the two of them from certain death … yet lost her own life in the effort.

What would we want for our remaining children from then on?

I think I’d want them to remember their older sister fondly. I’d want them to understand and appreciate how much she had loved them and was willing to give up for them. I want them to know that I still loved them as dearly as ever; that I did not blame them for her death.

I would want for them to live their own lives reflecting a growing love toward others, love that gives and never looks back. I would want them to be willing to tell stories about her to others; repeat stories that she had told them when they played school and she was their teacher.

I would want them to get to know her friends better and spend some time with them so they would know more about her; to sing her favorite songs when they got together to remember her. I’d want them to know everything I believe about where she is now and how and why.

I would still want them to grow up, find a mate for life they can love, bless, and be blessed by as much as I have and have been with their mom. It’d be great if they had their own kids, too!

There are all kinds of things that I would not want for them; things that would warp and distort and could yet destroy their lives, even after being rescued once before. Every parent knows what those things are.

And, of course, I would want / not want these things for them because I believe they are the things God wants and does not want for His children. He expresses His relationship to us as “Father,” and He did so through His Son. The comparison between the perfectly merciful and just God and the fatally-flawed person that is me is infinitely distant, I know.

But as I have confessed many times, I am an unabashedly simple-minded person. And an analogy like this “let’s pretend” helps me understand a little better His nature, His love, His righteousness, His justice, His mercy.

It helps me understand who He is, and what He wants – and doesn’t want – for me.

What is the Purpose of Preaching?

That’s it. Just a question. It’s a question that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard posed, or answered. So although I have some thoughts, they are germinal rather than terminal. I have no agenda other than curiosity: I really want to know what you think.

What is the purpose of preaching?

When Is A Sermon Not A Sermon?

I am not normally this combative. In fact, I’ve taken a bit of a sabbatical from blogging because the combative nature of the comments section has become increasingly repulsive and seductive to me. I can’t explain the contradiction; it’s just there.

But yesterday I managed to get myself in up to my neck on the microblogging platform Facebook. There, a simple question from Wade Hodges turned into a bit of a go-round.

Wade just asked:

True or False: Cutting 5 minutes of content from most sermons would improve them greatly.

And I answered:

I think if the objective is a better sermon, then the greatest improvement to most sermons would be to draw them to a close on the subject of Jesus, the Christ. I don’t really care if there’s an altar call/invitation or not – if the message doesn’t have some pertinent connection to Christ, it’s not a sermon; it’s just another lecture. And the speaker has wasted his/her own time and that of the audience.

Another reader responded:

There is more to preaching than just Christ…. as silly as that sounds. What about teaching? What if a sermon was on the 3rd person of the Godhead? Do you conclude talking about Christ? Some things can be taught separate from Christ to give perspective on the matter. Other things, (Adam/Eve, Grace, Life, and redemption) cannot be explain completely without Christ. But to explain sin and the ramification of sin, I wouldn’t have to talk about Christ.

I answered,

Respectfully, H—–, I disagree. If you talk about sin, you must talk about grace and redemption, and you can’t really talk about grace and redemption without talking about Jesus. If you talk about the Godhead, you can’t avoid talking about Jesus. If you talk about the first Adam, there’s no good reason you should leave out the last Adam. If the purpose of preaching is to bring others closer to God through Christ, you cannot leave out Christ.

He returned with:

W. Keith Brenton- I could preach a 2 hour sermon on the origins of sin, without any fluff whatsoever, and never say a word about Christ. Moses knew a LOT abo…ut sin, but knew nothing of the Christ (very little that was foretold, but nothing specific- just the promises) So I am confident in saying that I you do not always have to go back to Christ.

I posed this question:

Again, respectfully, H—–: How would that be different from ant lecture that a Jewish history professor might deliver at Hebrew University?

Another reader, K——- added:

You make some good points Howard but I’ve got to agree with W Keith here. Any sermon without Christ is just a lecture, better suited for a class you can take if you’re interested in the subject. As his disciples we are to imitate him and …make new disciples “teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (somehow we tend to neglect this second part of Jesus’ command and see conversion/baptism as the end of the process–different conversation) The church is to be about making new disciples and you can’t do that if you don’t talk about him often and with obvious love for him and passion for his glory so we come to love what he loves. This should be expressed from the pulpit. “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or rulers or authorities–all things were created through him and for him. And he is above all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross” How can you not preach him, sing him, talk about him, think about him!

Still another, B—, had this to say:

Jesus’ sermons rarely talked about Jesus.

I responded:

Well, if I were Jesus, I could teach with authority and wouldn’t need to quote him. In fact, I could do miracles and would live sinlessly. I would talk about God and, oh, I’d say things like “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day” and “Whoever lives and believes in me will never die.” I’m sorry; what was the point you were making, B—?

Wade tried to defuse my antagonism:

Wow. I guess sermons aren’t the only things that sometimes go a bit longer than necessary. 🙂

B— responded:

Keith, my point, though I love to preach about Jesus, is that you are overstating your case. I think we get your point, but not all sermons have to be about Jesus to be connected to Him or to point people to Him. It’s all connected to Him because it’s from Him. But according to your statements here, the sermon on the mount was a waste of time for Jesus and His hearers.

Unfortunately, I could not let that pass unanswered:

Forgive me, Wade, for chewing up more pixels, but Brad’s charges demand a response. I never said every sermon has to be about Jesus to point people to Him. But you can’t make His name known among those listening who may not know it by failing to even mention it. Virtually all of scripture points to Him. The evangelist’s challenge is to uncover how for his/her listeners; go a little deeper. Second, no twist of logic can make what I’ve said mean that the sermon on the mount was a waste of time. It was all about Jesus: who He was and what He did and how we can be like Him. I guess what’s really shocking to me is that folks are defending the right to preach a Jesus-free sermon. What’s the blinkin’ point of that, except to leave the audience blinkin’ and wonderin’ why they came to listen to it? I confess I am frankly jealous of people who have more opportunities to speak. I’m on the ministry support staff of a good-sized church (about 2,000). I’ve been asked to speak twice in the last five years. Every chance I get, I’m going to preach Christ and Him crucified – either directly or indirectly – because people who don’t know Him need to and people who know Him should never tire of hearing more about Him. The length of that message will depend entirely on what needs to be communicated about Him. I’m not going to squander any opportunity. People I listen to who have a burning in their bones about Him — I don’t tire of listening to them. That, I think, was what I was originally trying to say in response to Wade’s question.

I guess it’s just not negotiable with me. A sermon isn’t a sermon if it doesn’t come around to the subject of Jesus Christ. I may well be guilty of overstatement. I don’t think so. I don’t think that Paul, or Peter, or Stephen would think so. But I have no way of knowing that for certain.

So I ask you:

When is a sermon not a sermon?

Granny-Driving

Okay, I admit it. I have become a shameless granny-driver.

I blame it on The Egg, my Prius hybrid.

Toyota put a heads-up readout on the dashboard that you can set to display your estimated MPG as you drive. It’s like a challenge, and it’s a challenge that I am not too wimpy to back down from.

When I drive, I try to make that readout go as high as I can.

Sometimes, that means some granny-driving. You know: 35 m.p.h. in a 35 m.p.h. zone (because the battery-powered EM mode can get you going that fast). Full stops at stop signs (so the gas motor will cut off). Coasting down hills willy-nilly and braking at speed bumps (it charges the battery array). Slow acceleration to speed rather than jackrabbit starts and anticipating stop signs and red lights by backing off the accelerator immediately (which will improve gas mileage in any car, hybrid or not).

I generally granny-drive on my way to work and on my way home. I take a little-used route through a pleasant housing development with low m.p.h. signage anyway. My route features a nicely-landscaped country club golf course, lots of private gardens, lovely homes, friendly joggers and walkers. I enjoy the drive. I don’t rush. I leave in plenty of time, and I don’t need to rush.

I don’t granny-drive all the time. I don’t granny-drive when there’s traffic pushing from behind. (Oh, all right, maybe the odd Jaguar or Hummer.) And I don’t granny-drive to be obnoxious. (Usually. Hey, there are two lanes, and no center lines!)

I granny-drive to get good mileage. And I succeed!

Coming back to work from lunch today, the readout was 63.5 MPG.

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Your results may vary.

Reality Bites

I don’t mean to be flippant with this title, but there are moments in life when reality hits you between the eyes — sometimes between the lips — and those moments often impact me during communion.

When that morsel of bread contacts the tongue, yields to being pierced and broken and crushed, the reality of what it represents can be almost too much to bear.

Then it goes inside and becomes a part of us, giving energy and life … it’s bread, the staff of life, you know … and it gives us life to remind us that Jesus wants to live within us and give us life. Not just stingy morsels of life, but abundant life; eternal life. Life to be fully lived, by turning it over to Him.

He serves us this bread, which is Himself. He reminds us that to live life fully, abundantly, you serve others and you serve them yourself.

Then He pours out His blood for us, and we remember it in small measure through the cup. It courses through us and becomes a part of us. It gives us that life, just as it gave Him life when it coursed through His veins, in a way we’ll perhaps never fully understand in this life. But the measure is enough for us to understand that in serving others and serving them ourselves, a small measure may be all we can give but it is never enough; to be like Him, it must be all or nothing at all.

All the body must be given over to service to others; all the blood in the heart; all the will of the mind; all the devotion of the soul. And when we have fed even the least of these, we have fed Him.

It is a reality that bites and gnaws and yearns for us wholly in the tiny morsels of bread and sips from the cup.

But it is His reality.

And it outlasts, outloves and outlives any other.

Almighty God, Traffic Cop

Yesterday, I read an essay defending the proposition that all who have not heard the gospel are automatically lost and condemned to hell. Its main “Aha!” was the metaphor that God is merely a traffic cop enforcing law, and ignorance of the law is no excuse.

How insulting to the divine nature of the omnipotent, omniscient, loving God, who gave law for the benefit of His creation, then supplanted it with the grace of Christ when we proved ourselves unworthy and incapable of obeying it and treating each other well!

The Argument

There’s quite an argument going on in the comments of one of my previous posts.

I can’t tell you that I have been carefully monitoring it, eager to jump in with just the right “AHA!” that will prove how gloriously intelligent and inspired and above-all-else RIGHT I am.

If you believe that my salvation or yours hangs on being a perfect and omniscient blog moderator on all matters biblical and spiritual, then I am sorry to disappoint you, but certain I am not the first (nor will I be the last) to do so.

Hey, the argument isn’t even about what I posted.

But it does an en exceptionally good job of illustrating the point I had hoped to make.

Both of my beloved arguing brothers is utterly convinced that his interpretation of a number of scriptures supporting his point of view is so inarguably RIGHT and so self-evidently clear and so vitally crucial to the salvation of everyone on this planet that no one who disagrees with it can share in the fellowship of Christ.

The two points of view are different, so they cannot possibly agree and therefore one of them must be wrong and the other must be RIGHT.

The problem with that is that they can be different and still agree; and both could be right (at least to a degree) and both could be totally wrong (by being wrong in part).

And of course, since the nature of God is at issue, the probability of error is extremely high when one point of view is deemed to be wrong because with God nothing is impossible.

If we stuck to scripture without interpreting it, we would all agree that it says Jesus is the Christ and Son of God, who rewards those who diligently seek him, and the things that scripture says about Him are sufficient to lead anyone into a closer relationship with Him and into a life that reflects His glory and story.

But we all interpret. What happens when we start to believe that our interpretations are just as important as scripture – or perhaps even ARE scripture – is the fallacy of self above God, opinion above truth, creed above scripture, arrogance above humility, self-righteousness above grauce, RIGHTness above righteousness, winning above loving.

That is when we fall into the seductive snare of the argument.

And you rarely if ever see anyone emerge victorious by winning a soul over to God’s side … though perhaps you might sometimes see someone who has cowed his adversary over to his own side.

Because we hardly ever argue about what God actually says, but over what we think we know that He meant.

Can good come of an argument?

Sure. When it’s pursued in love, humility and a recognition of the difference between truth and perception; God’s word and man’s doctrine. I think God knows we’re all different and perceive things differently — He did create us this way, after all — and He expects us to disagree and even argue.

I think He expects us to argue like believers, though — and not like those to whom His love is a foreign concept.

Healthy, respectful argument helps bring the Word alive in our minds and hearts, challenging us to dig deep, read, listen and respond in love.

Jesus, John says, came to us full of grace AND truth. Not one or the other, but both, and in perfect balance. He argued — and sometimes strongly, harshly — but He was and is the Son of God. We are not, save through His blood and His righteousness.

And the folks with whom He argued most reprovingly were the ones who were absolutely convinced of their own infallible RIGHTness.

The Wicked Wretch is Dead

I am glad Osama bin Laden is dead and I am not sorry to say so.

I am sorry he did not repent, but his actions would lead one to believe that he was among those people whose consciences are seared; who call good “evil” and evil “good.” I fear that it is almost impossible for someone to repent who cannot distinguish good from evil. And he recruited thousands to swear their allegiance to his inability to discern good from evil and murder thousands more at his command, believing that to be right and good.

That, as I’ve blogged before, is what (I believe) comprises the sin which cannot be forgiven – the sin of calling good “evil” and evil “good.” (See The Sin That Cannot Be Forgiven.)

I completely trust God to judge Osama bin Laden justly and mercifully, and I completely trust Him to do the same for me.

But Osama is not around anymore to do his part in leading others toward the sin of intentional mis-discernment and on to mayhem and mass murder and suicide – which any right-thinking individual in any culture should recognize as selfish, immoral, unlawful, wrong, evil, and wicked.

And I cannot be sorry about that. I can be reminded to be careful what I call “good” and “evil” by the way I live. Mistaking them for each other begins so easily when self comes first.

So ring the bell if you must.

Ding. Dong.

But ring it quietly for Osama.

Remember that the judgment bell tolls for thee and me – and not just he.