Living with the Sermon

For the most part I'm an optimist.  I keep on the sunny side.  I like when frowns turn upside down.  The glass is half full.  

You get my drift. 

Optimists look forward with hope, but we sometimes hesitate to name what is difficult. So I’m stretching today: Sermon-writing is difficult.

Recently a young minister asked me "Do you ever feel inadequate as a pastor?"

"Every day.  Every Sunday.  Every sermon."  I said it so quickly I didn't think to keep on the sunny side.

On Thursdays it feels as if the sermon will never come together.  There’s rambling in my rough draft (if I have one).  My ideas are unclear.  My illustrations seem forced.  It feels like pulling teeth to get a paragraph together.

Of course the sermon comes together—something has to by Sunday—but it’s worrisome each week.  The whole process is humbling, and perhaps especially so for a perfectionist who also struggles with pride.  

Sermons live with me 24/7.  Sometimes people tell me to forget about the sermon for a bit.  People say this because they care about me, but forgetting the sermon is like forgetting I have an arm or a leg.  The sermon is always part of me which makes it heavy to carry; and at the same time the weight is what gives it meaning.  

Sermon-writing is a constant back and forth with the Holy Spirit.  "Is that me talking or you talking?  Am I listening to you or am I just trying to be clever?"  This conversation continues Sunday mornings even as worship begins.  

During worship a hundred thoughts come to mind.  I remember afresh the man who's waiting on test results.  I notice the woman staring off in the distance.   I see smiles and grief in the same pew.   I can tell when the teenager would rather be anywhere else.  I sense the closeness of some families and the gaping distance between others.  I scratch out a paragraph.  I underline a sentence to emphasize.  I wonder what good news will sound like for _____ today. 

All of this is part of the sermon-writing process.

Sermon-writing is difficult, but here's what is also true: Sermon-writing is a joy.  Once I reach the pulpit and start preaching the Holy Spirit bolsters me.  It's incredible, and for those 20 minutes I'm in the groove.  

Before the sermon?  Different story.  

After the sermon?  Different story, but during...THAT is the sweet spot. 

As an optimist, I'm tempted to tie all of this up with a big red bow.  No need.  You know I love sermon-writing.  It is a sacred privilege, but it is not easy.  

Most good things aren't.