Truth and the art of preaching

I searched for an image of a pulpit, and found this photo of a cliff in Norway called The Pulpit. I like it.
“It’s a writer’s job to tell the truth,” John Updike once said in an interview.
I think one might say the same thing about preaching. I have been spending a good deal of time and energy recently learning how to preach. My experiences in the pulpit, as well as in a homiletics class I recently completed at the Aquinas Institute, have encouraged me to see preaching as more than something I do. Instead, I am learning to see it as part of who I am. I suppose it’s similar to the distinction between a career and a vocation. And in the process I’m coming to believe that the most important part of preaching is witness–that is, telling the truth as I have experienced it.
There is an interesting tension in preaching circles around the subject of witness. Some experts find it indispensable, the very heart of what preaching is. Others believe it is distracting, for instance, to speak in the first person during a sermon, and advise against anything that draws too much attention to the preacher. Many experts warn–very wisely, I think–against saying anything from the pulpit that smacks of confession or therapy. But given the centuries of commentators and scholars who have come before us, those of us who are called to proclaim the Gospel to our community sometimes just have to stop and ask: what do we really have to offer besides our own experience, joys, and struggles? In other words, what more can we give than our selves? And do we dare give anything less?
The paradox in writing and preaching is that sometimes the more concrete and even personal we are in our choice of stories and examples the more broadly our work resonates. When people are offered specifics and details, even ones that seem a little idiosyncratic, some mysterious alchemy allows the listeners or readers to relate their own life, their own story, to what they’re hearing. Eloquence isn’t really the issue: authenticity is. So, for example, when I wanted a recent sermon to convey the importance of letting go and relinquishing the illusion of control as a necessary part of faith, I told a story about a child learning how to swim–an event I actually witnessed and that was deeply moving to me. I received in response a number of comments along the lines of “I know exactly how that feels!” And when someone said to me later, “It’s so hard to let go of the edge of the pool,” we both knew that we were talking about more than swimming.
It’s tricky, though. I don’t want my writing or my preaching to become myopic or self-obsessed, but conversely when I use examples involving other people I have to be awfully careful not to reveal too much, not to violate any confidences or trespass upon friendship and intimacy. When I make myself the object of ethical scrutiny or humorous self-disparagement, at least I know that nobody else will feel exposed.
Updike spoke of the “impersonal egoism” a writer needs in order to write autobiographically, whether in fiction, poetry, or memoir. It takes a certain ego, in the popular sense of the word, to focus on one’s self as a subject. But the “impersonal” part is just as important–one has to stand outside one’s self a bit, to be able to have perspective, in order for autobiographical writing to be accessible and inviting to others. Egoism, then, but not egocentricity.
In terms of preaching, I like to play with Updike’s phrase and ponder the idea of “personal transparency” or selflessness. A friend of mine who is a Eucharistic minister says that when she gives people communion she feels invisible, but it is a wonderful kind of invisibility that allows the person receiving communion to focus on God, not on her. She becomes a conduit, I suppose you could say, or a vessel. Oddly, she has to become very present, very engaged, in order for this to occur. Preaching can be like that, too. The more faithfully I risk sharing both my own vulnerability, weakness, or brokenness and the tremendous gift of God’s presence in my life, the less the sermon is about me. And that’s how it should be.
In his recent visit to Concordia Seminary here in St. Louis, Walter Wangerin spoke encouraging words to the preachers and preaching students in his audience. He is a magnicently gifted storyteller and preacher himself, and embodies the way the two arts are ideally combined. He reminded those gathered that the story of the Gospels is a means of interpreting our own lives, not the other way around. And he sounded this call for all who would hear it: “Ride the wave of human experience; be the chronicler of your congregation! You are the poet who writes their epic.” What an awesome responsibility and privilege.



Pamela Dolan is on staff at Emmanuel Episcopal Church in Webster Groves and is a Candidate for Holy Orders. After high school in Hawaii and college in California, she earned a master's degree in theology from Harvard before spending several years in New York studying medieval religion and literature. Pamela is married with two children.
One of your best written blogs Pam.
As long as a preacher doesn’t get stuck in a rut and mixes it up, I don’t think there is any one method or view of preaching that is better than another.
Pamela, ultimately, all we have to share in or out of the pulpit is ourselves. I participate in a tradition that holds that the Pulpit is free. What is said there is understood to be between the person doing the talking and God. Many preachers say that the proof of any sermon is found in how the people respond to it.
This statement of yours hit so close to home when you stated:
“It’s tricky, though. I don’t want my writing or my preaching to become myopic or self-obsessed, but conversely when I use examples involving other people I have to be awfully careful not to reveal too much, not to violate any confidences or trespass upon friendship and intimacy. When I make myself the object of ethical scrutiny or humorous self-disparagement, at least I know that nobody else will feel exposed.”
Even when some make themselves the object of exposure there are many, many times when this also can involve others who would be affected by such exposure where they are not ready to handle such exposure. There have been many, many times where I have found it appropriate to share something but could not because of the exposure to someone else it would expose also who are too young to be exposed or either not at a place in their life where they are comfortable with being exposed.
Today I can deal with anything and everything where it concerns me personally and have no fears about anything concerning exposure or what others think but I remember a time in my life where such was not true and where I wore masks hiding because such exposure I could not cope with.
Today even though I don’t worry about myself nor any of the my experiences and past mistakes in my life, I do however feel the need to protect others who are part of testimonies that I could share with others.
Sometimes you just feel as though you will burst open with all the things you want to share with others to maybe help them along but where it is more important to protect someone else’s emotions and mental state even at times when it make you appear that you are hiding something and are being disingenuous. This is what I find difficult especially knowing that some may look upon it as hiding things from them when they have opened up to you about something where you are keeping quiet about something that could possibly comfort and help them.
I find that the only thing you can do concerning situations such as this is to pray to God daily that those who are not there yet emotionally or who are too young to be so exposed, that God will bring them to that place of comfort and strength where they will be okay and ready for such exposure when it can be used to help someone else. After writing this, and again seeking God’s guidance, I am now truly okay with it because it just dawned in my spirit that this child is more important and that this story must not be shared until we know that this child is okay and this child will be with as long as God’s guidance is continued to be sought in raising this child alone the way. In some of my personal stories concerning other adults I am very protective of who I share such testimonies with but where I would never exposed even certain adults in a public type forums without them being okay with it.
Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address is probably one of the best models for giving a sermon - poignant and brief. If the congregation is not sleeping, they are probably day dreaming. Lincoln, too, had the ability to put himself outside himself when he gave a speech. If you try it on those high pulpits, please be careful, it could be a long way down.
But then, what do I know about preaching? I have never given a sermon in my life. Disregard everything I have just keyed in.
Davel,
You state:
I have never given a sermon in my life.
**** But every Christian has a testimony to share with others to uplift someone else, it is every Christians duty. In time, every obedient God loving Christian will come to that point in their life.
In homiletical terms, Pam, this is a great “inductive” post. You took us on the journey. In that regard, I continue to find insight in Fred Craddock’s “As One Without Authority.” Or anything by Tom Long. Or, of course, Walt Wangerin. Seems to me that truly incarnational preaching is always walking that fine line between the personal and the propositional, never completely at home in either.
What I have gotten from what you have shared that is new again for me is God is vulnerable, and that this is available to me also. Thank you.
Thanks for the several kind comments; I’m particularly touched by what “Another” wrote (it’s wonderful when the comments open up an aspect of a post I hadn’t been entirely aware of in writing it).
I have to agree with D. Walker that we’re all called to “preach,” in some sense; it is part of being a Christian to proclaim the Good News, although I think it’s clear that God has a lot of different ways in mind for us to do that and everyone has to find his/her own voice and method.
Travis, you can’t go wrong with any of the preachers you mention. Fred Craddock still reigns supreme, IMHO. If anyone knows how to get reasonably priced CDs of his sermons, let me know. I’d listen to him preach any day (and reading his stuff is just NOT the same).
All of that being said, I appreciate davel’s candor and humor. My mom recently sent me a quote from George Burns that said something like: The secret to an excellent sermon is to have a strong beginning and a strong ending and as little as possible in between. Sounds good to me!
Wait, preachers tell the truth? When? The whole premise of religion is a lie anyway
religion–noun 1. a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.
To keep the integrity of the word in place, religion is a set of chosen beliefs and by definition can not be a lie.
It can exist contrary to fact.
Someone may attempt to lie about the existence of God, but it can only be revealed in fact.
This is a conundrum for those who want to be right.