Luke 4:21-30
Epiphany 4 / Year C
In the 1950’s the Rev. Rufas Womble was rector of the
church I served in Richmond. Still in the
area once he retired, Rufas had a reputation for telling three jokes at the
beginning of every sermon. So, in memory
of him, here we go...
After listening to a long and tedious sermon, a little
boy asks his father about what the minister does for the rest of the week. “Oh, he’s a very busy man,” the father replies. “He takes care of church business, visits the
sick, ministers to the poor, and prepares for next Sunday’s sermon.” Then the father adds, “Talking in public
isn’t an easy job, you know.” The boy thinks
about this for a while and then says, “Well, listening isn’t easy either.”
A pastor preaches a sermon titled, “The Unknown Depths
of God.” After the sermon a member of
the congregation comes up to the pastor and says, “I believe you can go the
deepest, stay the longest, and come up with the least of any preacher I have
ever heard.”
A newly ordained minister was called to be the pastor
of a small, rural congregation. On his
first Sunday he is dismayed to find one of the parishioners brings a dog to the
worship service. The young pastor speaks
politely to the man and asks him kindly to leave the dog outside. The man obliges and then takes his seat. After the service members of the Vestry tell
the new priest the man has been bringing his dog to services for years and it
has never bothered anyone. They fear the
dog’s owner might never come back again.
So that afternoon the priest pays a visit to the man’s house and
apologizes. “Don’t worry about it a
bit,” the man replies, “It all worked out,” he says. “I wouldn’t have wanted my dog to hear that
sermon anyway.”
Like the first joke, most preachers have the
reputation of going on too long. Like
the second, some have a reputation of having nothing much to say. Like the final joke, a few have a reputation
of being able to infuriate on a consistent basis.
In today’s Gospel reading we pick up where last
Sunday’s lesson left off. You remember
how Jesus goes to his hometown synagogue and is asked to read the scripture
lesson and offer comment. What we hear today
is the response. Jesus’ sermon was not
long. In fact, it was very brief. It was not shallow. But boy, did it ever infuriate the
congregation. They are so mad at him they
take him to the outskirts of town and nearly throw him headfirst off a cliff. Years ago at the church I served in Iowa, a
local banker so loathed the preacher’s sermons he paid to have the Sunday
newspaper delivered right to his church pew where he made a show of reading it
during the sermon. As rude as that was,
it doesn’t come close to what the people of Nazareth attempted.
Have you ever heard a sermon that made you mad? I mean really mad? Sometimes it can be a good thing. Sometimes we need to be brought up short and
called to account—sometimes. But
sometimes preachers irritate and to no real end—sometimes. And sometimes we get upset because we think
the preacher should have said something else.
I suppose every preacher has his or her own definition
of a sermon and each has his or her own unique approach to this very complicated
enterprise. For me, listening to a
sermon is listening in on a conversation.
It is a conversation that has been taking place in the heart, mind, and
soul of the preacher. Participants in
the conversation include the Holy Spirit, the lessons assigned to be read, the
liturgical time of the year, events in the life of the congregation and its
members, current national and world events, and a whole host of other voices
that come from books, articles, lectures, and previous experiences.
The majority of the conversation takes place during
the course of the week leading up to Sunday’s service; although some parts of it
have been going on in the preacher’s innermost being for weeks and months and
years. Each Sunday the preacher attempts
to summarize the conversation in a way that is interesting, challenging,
enlightening, and spiritually filling to the listening congregation.
I know most people listen to sermons hoping to learn
something about God, about the Bible, and about life. Most of the time we listen to gain a new
perspective on these important matters.
I also know it is easy to fall into the habit of listening to hear
things you agree with and disagree with.
Some years ago one of my colleagues wrote this in his
church’s newsletter:
Sermons are intended to challenge people with the
Gospel message. As such they are not
meant to be mere reflections of conventional wisdom. They are meant to question, to stimulate, and
to call us to repentance and change. If
you have listened to a sermon that does not call you to these things then
chances are you have not heard a good sermon.
If you hear something that upsets you there are
several things you can do. First, ask
yourself if you heard exactly what the preacher said. Perhaps you misunderstood. Second, ask yourself if the preacher is
right. Sometimes we react negatively to
something we know is true, but we do not want to hear. Next, go to the preacher and seek
clarification. Statements like; “Tell me
more about your thoughts on this subject” or “Did I understand you correctly
when you said…” are good ways to engage the preacher. Finally, pray about what you have heard. Pray for yourself and pray for the preacher. Pray that God’s will and God’s word would be
known by both of you.
I don’t know what the response was to his article, but
I always thought it was good advice.
Because the sermon is an articulation of an inner
conversation, the best response to a sermon is more conversation. It is a conversation taking place in the
heart, mind, and soul of the listener during the sermon and the days that
follow. The best sermon complements I
receive are the ones when somebody stops by the office and begins a
conversation by saying, “I have been thinking about what you said in your
sermon last Sunday…”
If the only spiritual food you receive all week comes
from the sermon they it is likely you will be hungry most of the time. Sermons function best when they are used as
water to prime your spiritual pump.
Without them sometimes it can be difficult to get the water
flowing. With their assistance, the
spiritual well inside of you can deliver reservoirs of living water.
In our Old Testament reading for today, God says to
Jeremiah, “I have put My words in your mouth.”
We might ask ourselves who speaks for God in this place. Upon whose lips has God placed God’s
words? I dare say God’s words are not
the exclusive domain of the preacher. We
all speak for God. Collectively we have
God’s word in us. Discovering this
truth, embracing, and unleashing its power ought to be one of our highest
priorities. How will we begin to do it?
