Some Reflections On Preaching the Word
I never realized how profound and hefty a responsibility being a preacher is until God called me to become one.
I just preached my third sermon on Sunday, and let me tell you: the experience of speaking and revealing the truth of Scripture to a congregation that is listening intently to your words is unlike any other.
I stood up in front of the church with a mic clipped to my shirt and with my notes in front of me after multiple weeks of preparation. I opened my mouth and spoke about the Word of God and the surrender that a life in the Spirit requires of us. I moved back and forth on the platform, teaching the text and encouraging the people to love God above all else and give up the things that put distance between Him and them. I spoke for forty-five minutes (fifteen minutes longer than I’d planned to), and I can only hope that the message God gave me will make a difference in the lives of those who heard me.
I grew up in the church, so I can’t count the number of sermons I’ve heard in my life. Many, I’ve forgotten. Others I can’t forget because they brought me to my knees in tears, worship, and/or repentance as the Lord moved my spirit.
But until the last few years, I never truly appreciated the significance of being the one to speak the words from the pulpit that, when filled by the Holy Spirit, stir the Body of Christ into action. To study the Word so deeply that its message fills you, to understand it and respond to it deeply and personally before you can truly let it flow out of you to the people of God…it’s a great and terrifying privilege. After all, who am I that the Lord should tap me on the shoulder and say, “Go, use the voice I gave you to speak my words to my people”?
In my chronological Bible reading plan this past week, I landed on the story of Moses and the burning bush. Multiple times, God commissions Moses to go and be His voice to Pharaoh and the people of Israel. Multiple times, Moses fearfully makes excuses as to why he is not fit for the duty. Finally, God makes a provision that Moses can speak through Aaron, who would eventually become the first High Priest of Israel. God appointed these two men to represent Him to the people. They both messed up many times. But they also both served faithfully until their deaths, despite the ups and downs of leading the nation of Israel through the wilderness.
I, too, have been afraid of this calling. I didn’t expect it to happen—in fact, I was convinced I wasn’t called to pastoral ministry. I’m challenged by what the calling of a preacher entails, speaking truth in love according to the guidance of Scripture and the Holy Spirit without fear of what people may think of me. I’m challenged by the level of dedication to the Father that being a leader in His Church requires of me.
Preaching the Word of God has many facets. In one way, preaching is teaching, explaining and revealing the mysteries and profound truths of Scripture to the faithful. In another way, preaching is a form of prophecy, proclaiming God’s truth with conviction and courage despite opposition from the Devil, the secular world, and even sometimes the Church itself. And in yet another way, preaching is like being a vessel, being emptied of self and filled to overflowing with the Holy Spirit.
There’s a good reason why Scripture talks so thoroughly about the high standard of conduct being a pastor includes. There is power in speaking the words of Jesus, and this power can easily be corrupted and turned into blasphemy and deception. Scripture can be twisted to suit a narrative that is not of God. Many pastors in our nation, instead of preaching about the Kingdom of God, preach about allegiance to a political party as a determining factor in salvation, “us vs. them” narratives, false promises of faith-claimed physical prosperity, and flawed ideas of holiness. That, or they are themselves deceived into believing that the words they speak are of God even if they’re unloving and unbiblical.
I don’t want to lead people astray in my preaching ministry. The Bible says some very explicit things that condemn the person who points people down the wrong path. Jesus’ illustration of millstones around the neck being a better alternative to leading a child astray comes to mind.
I also know that many pastors are put on pedestals by the people who follow their leadership. I’ve done this in the past myself. But that scares me too—I don’t like the idea of being elevated in people’s minds, even if it’s unconscious. Precious few people are privy to the details of the spiritual storm I feel living in me many days, the ongoing fight between loving humility and pride, idolatry, and fear. I feel like the closer I get to God and the more spiritual responsibility He calls me to, the harder the devil tries to disrupt my life with distraction and fear and cast doubt and discouragement into my soul.
Pastors fall from grace all the time these days. Caught in adultery or pornography or substance abuse. Caught in violent and abusive words or deeds. Caught in all manner of sin that disqualifies them, whether temporarily or permanently, from standing in the pulpit. I don’t intend for that to happen to me. But I doubt any pastor does.
When I stand there with my notes in front of me, ready to speak, I can’t help but hope that the Lord gently places me to the side and stands there in my place. Two of my biggest fears about preaching are that I will not say what God wants me to say, whether because I forget or because I’m not tuned in to His Spirit, and that I will say something He doesn’t want me to say because I want to say it, in which case the words are better off forgotten.
And anytime someone compliments me or thanks me for what I said, I feel like an impostor, because I know that I’m not the one who deserves the praise.
I’m a decent public speaker, so I also have to watch my attitude towards the pulpit. I don’t want to get too comfortable with standing in front of my brothers and sisters, as if I belonged there according to my own merit. No, I intentionally have to pray that the Lord will remind me of my weakness so my pride in the quality or quantity of my public words doesn’t overcome the humility I ask for each time.
Please, pray for your pastors, elders, and deacons. Most people don’t see the difficulties they experience in doing ministry, because the truth is, every one of them is a regular person with faults and strengths—and I’ve barely scratched the surface of understanding that fact.
For anyone who would like to watch the sermon I gave on Sunday, here’s the link to the recording: https://youtu.be/HxM0j-gCcsg?si=qGQiPgHTbgLf5_2y