As I was thinking about Thanksgiving season, and the more important and meaningful Advent season, I came across this quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer. “A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes… and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent.” This got me thinking about the prison ministry I have gotten to know these past four months.

About twice a week, I go to the Forsyth County minimum security prison and work with the chaplaincy office there. Basically, we have a church service together, hang out, eat, laugh, cry, and then I go home. Every week, a different church comes in to help with the ministry. One of the many things I love about the ministry is the theological diversity represented within it… a diversity that borders on schizophrenia.

There are four chaplains there, two white and two African-American. One is female. The four also represent four different expressions of Christianity: Pentecostal, Baptist, AME Zion, and Moravian (don’t know what that is? Look it up here.) They each have a different worship service planned when they preach. And, by the way, when they do preach, it differs. I’m not sure if you knew this, but Methodist preaching differs slightly from Pentecostal preaching. Just a bit.

On top of this, each week a church comes in representing a potentially different style of Christianity from the chaplain. So, for example, one week the Moravian chaplain preached a quite good sermon, but the service around him was utterly Pentecostal in nature. He handled it very well (he’s probably had this happen before), but the difference was striking. Another week, an old Moravian church came and brought their chorale instruments. The inmates sang different songs from what they were used to that week, and with tuba leading the way. And of course, each week the “Cherry Street Choir,” the inmate-led choir, sings a couple of songs that are always, always, always good. The mixture of pain and joy, the tension between the “already” and the “not yet” of their freedom in Christ, the acknowledgment that whatever else happens, Jesus is Emmanuel, God with them, is moving.

But sometimes I get troubled, not by these men (many of whom are coming to be true friends), but by some of the people in the churches that come in. I’m not talking about something specifically theological or philosophical that I disagree with (although, of course, this does happen occasionally). Rather, sometimes the tone and tenor of some coming to the prison is something like, “We’re bringing the good news to them, these men who messed up.” There was once a testimony that basically talked about how, because this man hadn’t drank, cussed, smoked, or had sex before marriage, he was the opposite of the prodigal son; he was the “older son” who stayed home (a bad reading of that parable, to be sure). I don’t think these people are mean or do this intentionally, but it’s a subconscious assumption being made that most often comes through during prayer. “Lord, help us to be a light to them. Lord, help these men to come to know you through our work. Lord, help them to learn from us.”

Which, granted, does happen. I’m sure being visited by people from the “outside” on a consistent basis who genuinely do care is extremely meaningful. I’m sure God works through this. But I always wonder, “Is the Gospel message some gift I am presenting to a designated group? Why do I feel like I learn at least as much from these men about true faith in the midst of brokenness as I am teaching them?”

The problem with the former view is that the Gospel is not a “one way” street. The ones who deliver the good news of Jesus’ liberation are changed even as it changes others, if we are open to it. I am reminded specifically of the story of Peter in Acts 10. Peter goes and preaches the good news to Cornelius, whose whole household is baptized and receives the Holy Spirit, but in the process, Peter is “converted” as well to seeing just how open and embracing this new Spirit-movement is. “So God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life!” (Acts 11:18)

Which is why a good reading of the “Prodigal Son” story is so vital. It isn’t as if the older brother who stayed home and did all the “right things” was okay. In the end, we see that he too is “prodigal,” in need of the Father’s changing embrace. So I fear that people who come into the prison and want to “bring Jesus” to the inmates are missing something. They’re missing a part of what the Gospel is, and especially how the Gospel works. The Gospel changes the messenger, even as she delivers the good message. The Gospel is not a gift any group possesses and can present to a poor lost multitude, but a gift from God, a mystery, that we all share together. As such, the churches that come in should see themselves in solidarity with their brothers (this is an all-male facility) in jail, fellow believers seeking God’s will together. And many churches that come in do just this, especially the ones who come repeatedly.

All this is to say, in this season of thanks where so many of us will thank God only for the good things in our lives and try our hardest to forget the bad, forget the sins in our personal life and in our lives as a corporate body, be it sins committed by the Church body or America (goodness knows we should remember our Holocausts and unjust wars before we give thanks); in this season of thanks, I’m learning what real “thanks” looks like for Christians. It looks like the thanks uttered within prison walls, a realistic, confessional thanks, a thanks that is from the gut. I heard one Sunday night in prison, “No matter what is going on in life, I know I can thank God every day for waking me up in the morning.” This line often is the first line in prayer. One of my favorite Cherry Street Choir pieces sings, “Through it all I’ve made it through another day’s journey; God kept me here.” This thanks is a hard thanks, a thanks that looks the world’s junk in the face and says, “No. There’s more.” It laments, it cries, it shouts, it hurts, but it is still utterly thankful. And because of this, it is a truthful and faithful “thanks” that God hears.

And so, this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for these men, who perhaps are learning a thing or two about the Gospel from me, but who certainly are teaching me what it means to have a deeply thankful faith.

Avem traducerea, avem paginarea, avem coperta. Urmează indexarea şi tipărirea cărţii. Totuşi, nu ştiu dacă în „luna cadourilor” ne vom putea face cadou „ucenicia” lui Bonhoeffer. Mai jos coperta şi un fragment din Nota editorului.

Această veritabilă Imitatio Christi, izvorâtă din mediul luteran şi adresată creştinului din secolul XX, continuă să fascineze şi să inspire, nu numai prin limpezimea şi forţa ideilor pe care le conţine, ci mai ales datorită faptului că însăşi viaţa lui Dietrich Bonhoeffer s-a identificat radical cu ucenicia, într-una dintre cele mai tenebroase perioade ale istoriei. Încleştarea cu nazismul îl apropie pe Bonhoeffer de un alt mare luteran, Richard Wurmbrand, martor credincios al rezistenţei împotriva celuilalt malheur du siècle, comunismul. Şi unul, şi celălalt au cunoscut „harul care costă scump”, iar prin el, glasul lor a răsunat mult dincolo de graniţele propriei lor confesiuni.

Viel wurde bereits zu den Plakaten der “Freidenker” geschrieben. Der folgende Text von Karin Scheiber, Dr. theol., aus St. Gallen der am 19. November im St. Galler Tagblatt veröffentlicht wurde, gehört zum Besten, was ich dazu gelesen habe.

«Da ist wahrscheinlich kein Gott.» Diese Aussage der Freidenker gibt sich wissenschaftlich-aufgeklärt und will den Glauben an Gott herausfordern. Manche Gläubige fühlen sich tatsächlich provoziert, wie die Verunstaltungen von Plakaten zeigen. So wurde mancherorts das «k» übermalt. Ist dies die angemessene christliche Antwort auf die Freidenker-Parole: «Da ist wahrscheinlich ein Gott»? Oder gar: «Da ist ein Gott»?

Das theologisch Problematische der Freidenker-Aussage ist nicht das «k», sondern liegt viel tiefer.

Bonhoeffers Satz

Der 1945 von den Nationalsozialisten ermordete evangelische Theologe Dietrich Bonhoeffer bringt uns auf die richtige Spur mit seinem Satz «Einen Gott, den es gibt, gibt es nicht». Damit behauptet er nicht, dass Gott nicht existiert. Auch nicht, dass Gott wahrscheinlich nicht existiert. Die Religionskritik dieses Satzes ist viel radikaler als jedes atheistische Bekenntnis im Stil der Freidenker-Plakate. Den Gott, den wir zu haben und zu kennen meinen, über den wir zu verfügen glauben, diesen Gott gibt es nicht. Psychologisch gesprochen ist er immer nur ein Produkt menschlichen Wunschdenkens, eine Illusion; theologisch gesprochen ein Götze. Darauf mit der Behauptung zu antworten, dass Gott nicht existiert oder wahrscheinlich nicht existiert, greift deshalb zu kurz, weil auch sie um nichts weniger ein Götze menschlichen Wunschdenkens ist.

Dies ist nicht nur an die Adresse der Freidenker zu sagen, sondern ebenso all jenen, die mit dem Filzstift in der Hand oder in Gedanken das «k» der Freidenker-Parole durchstreichen. Eine gelehrte, aber nicht weniger fruchtlose Variante dieses Unternehmens stellen die Versuche des britischen Religionsphilosophen Richard Swinburne dar, mittels der Unterscheidung verschiedener Arten von Evidenzen und einer komplizierten mathematischen Formel die Wahrscheinlichkeit der Existenz Gottes, der Verbalinspiration der Schrift und der Auferstehung Jesu zu berechnen. Auch hier gilt: Was immer Gegenstand von Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnungen sein kann, ist nicht Gott.

Jenseits aller Wahrscheinlichkeit

Wenn Gott existiert, dann nur als Gott, frei, unverfügbar unserem Wünschen, unserem Befehlen, unseren Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnungen. «Da ist wahrscheinlich kein Gott» – den Gott, den die Freidenker hier im Blick haben, gibt es tatsächlich nicht. Aber dazu brauchen wir nicht die Freidenker, uns das zu erzählen. Der Gott, von dem die Bibel erzählt, führt Israel aus Ägypten ins gelobte Land und aus dem gelobten Land hinaus in die Verbannung, lässt sich anspucken und ans Kreuz schlagen. Diesen Gott haben wir «nie in der Tasche», das ist ein Gott, den wir überhaupt nicht «haben», sondern der sich immer wieder neu und überraschend und jenseits aller Wahrscheinlichkeitsüberlegungen in unser Leben hinein ereignet.

I have some miscellaneous and  enthusiastic recommendations.  They may not be everyone’s cup of java but they sure grabbed me, each wonderful examples of the reach of compelling content being extended by digital tools.

1) The first is outright embarrassing: Because, for a guy who at least tries to convince himself that he is wired,  it turns out that this “new”  discovery from American Public Media has been around since  2001.

Many of you farther along on the “wired” continuum already know about Krista Tippet’s Speaking of Faith, an American Public Media production billed as “public radio’s national conversation about belief, meaning, ethics, and ideas.” Well, I had no idea. And I simply want to pass on that, if you are someone who at least contemplates matters of the spirit, God, holiness, and compassion, you must give Krista’s broadcast a listen.  It moves back and forth between many of the world’s religions and, rather than working the typical extremes of the age of fundamentalism,  most of the discussions take place in the messy, complex middle where most of us actually live.

One broadcast worth downloading is a panel discussion with Krista, David Brookes and EJ Dionne discussing the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr..

Another program on German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer is riveting.

2) I also recommend a new on-line version of a class entitled “Justice: What is the Right Thing to DO?” at Harvard taught by Michael Sandel that has long been one of the University’s most popular courses.  The entire course, filmed elegantly with multiple cameras capturing student reactions and questions, can be seen here.

3)  A great guide to all of the podcasts and courses and provocative discussion freely available for download can be found at http://www.openculture.com/.

4) Finally, and I will understand if you are a little skeptical,  is the incredibly rich and fun Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. Each week they will send you a podcast of one of the biographical entries read aloud. I can only tell you that they are amazingly absorbing, incredibly entertaining.  Yes, I used the word “fun.” One week it is the famed, hard-living UK footballer George Best. And then comes poet Phillip Larkin. These are not standard reference entries. They are brilliantly written short takes on lives,  they have a point of view and — sometimes if the subject calls for it — they are hillarious.

Their podcast of the biography of spy Anthony Blunt is a great place to start.

5) Finally, to hear some extraordinary true-life story-telling from an organization doing all it can to keep the spoken, performed story alive, check out the podcasts from The Moth.  Real people. Real Stories. Performed live. And a lot of laughter, pain, and everything in between.

Fun stuff.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

The sanctification of the Church means its separation from all that is unholy, from sin. – The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 313.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

I hope to blog out my thoughts about EmeringUmc2: Restoring Missional Methodism over the next several days.  Here is my first attempt to summarize my experience at the conference.

EmergingUMC2 has come and gone. You can see the twitter conversation (#emergingumc2)  here.

 It was an event that my congregation, Lockerbie Central United Methodist, had lobbied hard to get.  We were a small congregation that had been left for dead but had found new life in the emergent/missonal way.   We wanted to show and tell our story. 

I went into the conference feeling a little bit out of it though.  In this season of the H1N1, I woke up Thursday morning–12 hours before the conference started–puking my guts out.  Lucky for me, it wasn’t the flu and I made it through the weekend. 

Thursday Night:

We screened the movie The Ordinary Radicals to start the conference  and as part of our normal Thursday night film series. We had about 1o0 people in attendance.  Director Jamie Moffett was in town and it was exciting to see Lockerbie Central’s brief appearance in the movie.  The film tells the story of “Ordinary Radicals”– everyday people whose faith and commitment to community have begun to provide an alternative to what it means to be a North American Christian.   Imagine a Christianity that actually took Jesus seriously–that is what the Ordinary Radicals are. The film follows Shane Claiborne and his merry band of Christian troublemakers (in the best of that word) and jesters (in the best sense of that word) across the country  in a grease powered bus during the summer of 2008 as part of  the Jesus For President (book] tour.

The movie was inspiring but I could tell that for many conference attendees, the Ordinary Radicals’ movement wouldn’t quite translate to the county seat churches.  Well, lets just say it wouldn’t happen over night. 

Friday Morning:  

After a worship gathering, we took a three hour walk across downtown Indianapolis.  We wanted to give conference goers a sense of our missional context. 

We headed from the church, across Lockerbie Square, and over to Mass. Ave. , where we met Pauline Moffett at the Indy Fringe Building.  Pauline is executive director of the Indianapolis Fringe Festival, a 10 day uncensored and unjuried theater and arts festival, where all ticket sales go to the performers.  Our church has worked with Indy Fringe for the last four years and last year hosted the festival’s dance performances.  I’ll talk about it more in a later post, but it was quite amazing how much the mission of Indy Fringe met up with the ideal of the conference. 

From there, we walked towards downtown, talking about Indianapolis history—the good, the bad, and the ugly– and then met with the Justice For Janitors campaign on the steps of  Monument Circle.  A half decade into the struggle, janitors won their first union contact last year with the help of clergy leaders.  If the campaign continues to succeed, 2,000 lowpaying  jobs will be tranformed into living wage jobs that can support a family.  From there, we walked a few more blocks, saw the state house, and then met with Stuart Mora, a hotel worker and Lockerbie Central member, who is working with his coworkers to organize a union at downtown hotels.  Like the janitors, if the hotel workers suceed thousands of jobs will become living wage jobs.  If clergy and the church get involved in real and meaningful ways in these types of struggles, our economy will be transformed and perhaps the church might have a future.

Having walked three miles or so, the group headed back to Lockerbie Central UMC and had lunch.  We read this qoute off of our church sign:    

It may be that the day of judgment will dawn tomorrow; in that case we will gladly stop working toward a better future. But not before. Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

Genuine prayer is never “good works” an exercise or a pious attitude but it is always the prayer of a child to a Father. – The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 181.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

Nationalism in America’s churches is in many ways more explicit and more unnoticed by participants than even 1930’s Germany. The church I work at has decided that it’s far more acceptable to say the pledge of allegiance than to take communion on a regular basis. This shows a church that has lost its way, a community not gathered around the cross, but around a constitution, around not God’s Word, but the republic.

The church I attend is confesssional, it has creeds, it has liturgies, the sad fact of the matter is that these liturgies are America’s ideology. Our creeds are not the Christian creeds, but the creeds of America. Our pastor stands to decry a godless society week after week in love and patience, but, cannot even begin to articulate the problems which we really face. I’ve heard sermons about the evils of evolution and how serving Jesus is like being in the American service, I’ve stood in silent horror as my brothers and sisters salute a flag, pledging allegiance to a bloodthirsty nation in the very community that was built as a community of peace, and cross bearing discipleship.

I’ve heard our pastor thank veterans for defending our freedom, when really, there hasn’t been anything near a just war in the history of America, and the only war that comes remotely close is the European theatre of WWII. But even that was invalidated by our decision to as a nation commit the greatest act of terrorism ever known to history. There’s no defense of freedom in the wars we fight today, or in any of our wars, it’s never been about the defense of freedom it’s been about the unnamed expansion of empire. It’s been about cultural indoctrination and the self-entitled right to supremacy assumed by the American people.

The “tolerant” Americans have sought to excuse themselves from their imperialism by calling it other things, including: a war on terror, defending our freedom, liberating the oppressed, taking out a threat to our national security, disabling a mass murderer, bringing democracy to a people in need of freedom. The rhetoric is all the same and all underlies what’s really going on. America is a darkened face, and a nation willing to commit seedy acts to save her image, to save face. Just like Two-Face and Batman in the Dark Knight, our image has been marred by the publication of torture acts, of really looking at the things we’ve done in order to save “this fair city” from “madmen”.

America’s two face is the presidency and the CIA, agencies we love to praise, that we now have no choice but to see as disfigured and disfiguring aspects of our society. So we’ve created the idea of “the troops” and “freedom” as our heroes, who bear the weight of our guilt, for better and for worse, we shove off the blame on the president, the vice president, the government agencies, the powerlessness of the american people. The mask we’ve taken on for ourselves is a deliberate and overtly intentional rebranding, a way to distance ourselves from the war we find ourselves in. Yet it doesn’t change the reality that is Two-Face, the reality that our white knights have turned out to be monsters.

Our nation is a people determined to be free of guilt, obsessed with ignoring the past to live in the eternal present. The death of metanarrative and historical unity in American culture is a sign of the ways in which the American project is mediating its own failure to itself. We have become dejected and rather than acknowledge our place in history, we’d rather displace ourselves from it in what Foucault called differance. Trying to make ourselves differ from the past and even our present, making America an ideal, an invisible unity, a sinless body removed from the sins of individual persons.

America’s ecclesiological apologetic for itself is that it is an invisible body, perfectly unmarred by the sins of the past. The ideal still lives on, despite historical failures, because these were the failures of presidents, of leaders, but not of America. Underlying America is a strong belief in her invisible unity, despite her radical inclusion of most peoples (although there are some dissenters like Lou Dobbs and Rush Limbaugh). But nevertheless, the claim of America’s idealistic unity and legitimacy as this ideal society in the minds of both conservatives and liberals stands.

As Christians, we do not hope for America, we do not hope in America, we do not take oaths of allegiance, to church or state, baptism is our yes. We need take no oaths of allegiance to the church, to the bible, to the Christian flag, to Jesus. Baptism is our yes, so let us live as though it matters. Pledging allegiance to the Christian flag is rarely if ever done without pledging allegiance to the American flag first, and it just goes to show where the priorities are.

I think that this video shows the problem in explicit detail so you know i’m not just making this up.

the only difference between that first video and the one that follows is not all the children in the first video have flags, but the sentiment is the same. The only difference between American and German fascism is that Americans are gathered around the invisible church that is “Christian America” rather than a charismatic leader. Fundamentalist churches have displaced the invisible church with the visible america in need of “restoration”. My only question is, were we a Christian nation while we moved in slaughtering indians, or after that, when we decided to import slaves to create our livelihoods? Was it at our earliest founding, by Catholic missionaries? Or was it when Puritans decided to betray the natives who had taught them to work the land?

What separates the “Christian” nationalism above from the one presented below?

What would Bonhoeffer say? What would Karl Barth say? What might St. Paul say? Augustine?

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

Who is pure in heart?  Only those who have surrendered their hearts completely to Jesus that he may reign in them alone.

- The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 125.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

…Sanctification keeps us in that fellowship in Christ…the Christian’s separation from the world until the second coming of Christ…sanctification enables him to abide in Christ to persevere in faith and to grow in love. – The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 312.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

All this means that there are three possible ways in which the church can act toward the state: in the first place, as has been said, it can ask the state whether its actions are legitimate and in accordance with it’s character as state, i.e., it can throw the state back on its responsibilities. Second, it can aid the victims of state action. The church has an unconditional obligation to the victims of any ordering of society, even if they do not belong to the Christian community. “Do good to all people”… The third possibility is not to just bandage the victims under the wheel, but to jam a spoke in the wheel itself.

–Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “The Church and the Jewish Question”, April 1933, emphasis mine

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

…They show by every word and gesture that they do not belong to this earth…Those who now possess it [the earth] by violence and injustice shall lose it, and those who here have renounced it, who were meek to the point of the cross, shall rule the new earth. – The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 123.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

Intercession is the most promising way to reach our neighbors. - The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 110.

 (4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

To believe the promise of Jesus that His followers shall possess the earth and at the same time to face our enemies unarmed and defenseless preferring to incur injustice rather than to do wrong ourselves is indeed the narrow way. - The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 211.

 (4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)

Doing the rounds this week:

• Ellen Davis presented her inaugural lecture as the Amos Ragan Kearns Distinguished Professor of Bible and Practical Theology on October 27, 2009, at Duke Divinity School. The title of the lecture was ‘The Poetry of Care and Loss’. It is available via iTunes.
• The Thailand Burma Border Consortium compares Eastern Burma to Darfur.
• Julian Bell reviews Vincent van Gogh – The Letters (now we just need Thames & Hudson to review the price!).
• A fascinating interview with Slavoj Žižek: ‘… it’s very easy to have a radical position which costs you nothing and for the price of nothing it gives you some kind of moral superiority. It also enables them to avoid the truly difficult questions’.
• Andrew Brower Latz continues his note sharing on Alan Torrance’s 2009 Didsbury Lectures (Parts I, II and III).
• Jim Gordon reminds us why reading Bonhoeffer is ‘like engaging in a theological detox programme’.
• Kyle Strobel writes about Evangelical Idolatry.
• Rick Floyd posts on Lesslie Newbigin’s The Gospel in a Pluralist Society.
• W. Travis McMaken, on his way into his final qualifying exam in systematic theology, shares a quote from TF Torrance on modern preaching and the god named ‘existentialist decision’.

Christianity means community through Jesus Christ and in Jesus Christ.  No Christian community is more or less than this.  Whether it be a brief, single encounter or the daily fellowship of years, Christian community is only this.  We belong to one another only through and in Jesus Christ.

The more genuine and the deeper our community becomes, the more will everything else between us recede, the more clearly and purely will Jesus Christ and his work become the one and only thing that is vital between us.   We have one another only through Christ, but through Christ we do have one another, wholly, and for all eternity.

What does this mean? It means, first, that a Christian needs others because of Jesus Christ. It means, second, that a Christian comes to others only through Jesus Christ.  It means, third, that in Jesus Christ we have been chosen from eternity, accepted in time, and united for eternity.

That dismisses once and for all every clamorous desire for something more.  One who wants more than what Christ has established does not want Christian brotherhood.  He is looking for some extraordinary social experience which he has not found elsewhere; he is bringing muddled and impure desires into Christian brotherhood.  Christian brotherhood is not an ideal which we must realize; it is rather a reality created by God in Christ in which we may participate.

Excerpts from Life Together by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Preaching is the communal act of proclamation in the worship-life of a body of disciples.

Preaching begins with community. Preaching cannot occur apart from the context of the body of Christ. The very act of proclamation is communal by nature; it implies a speaker (or speakers) and an audience. The community receives the vocal proclamation of the Living Word and its transformative power. It gives shape to the life of the congregation. Without community, preaching is nothing, for the aim of preaching is to inspire disciples.

And the best preaching occurs by listening to the community. A few years ago, I did a project for graduate school. I pulled together a diverse group of 10-12 people and asked them to read through one text each week; after the reading, the group would post their thoughts, questions, and reflections about the text to a blog that I had set up. This “cyber community” afforded me the opportunity to think through a particular text from a variety of vantage points before I attempted to preach it. What a blessing! This act of collaboration reminded me of the many ways the Word speaks to us in life’s many seasons. It was such a treat to hear a college student share her thoughts on a particular passage and then to hear how that contrasted with the reflections of one of our 80-year-old saints. I believe the best preaching occurs when the preacher is attuned to the perceptions, fears, joys, and questions of the community. So, in a way, preaching begins with listening.

Preaching is proclamation over performance. Early on in my preaching, I was severe in my critique of my performance. I would carefully script out each paragraph, sentence by sentence, word by word, seeking to find the perfect marriage of sound and cadence. Then I would practice each part, paying special attention to inflection and diction and rhythm. And when the time came to give birth to the sermon, inevitably the execution would fail: a word spoken in the wrong tone; an inopportune stutter. The slightest disruption to my preparation and I would grade myself harshly. All of these were matters of performance.

But I’ve since repented of this because I’ve discovered that my self-inflicted performance criticism was nothing but pride. I certainly never want the performance to impair the proclamation; that is, I’ll always seek to communicate clearly and effectively. But I’ve learned to trust the sovereignty of God that Christ can still be proclaimed even when my performance might be lacking. I know that sounds silly to say, but I’ve found it to be incredibly liberating, so much that before I speak each week, I say a little prayer: “Lord, help me to proclaim and not perform.” I can’t tell you how much pressure that relieves for me.

Preaching is worship. Preaching has become something of a four-letter word to many in the ministry community. I have colleagues who are literally insulted when someone refers to them as “preacher” instead of “minister”. And I think there are plenty of reasons for this. But I think one reason is the way we’ve often thought and spoken about preaching. We’ve historically approached the sermon as the centerpiece of the worship experience. We sing, we pray, we recite Scripture, we commune…but in our minds, all of this is merely lead up to the sermon. We even allot the greatest amount of time in our assembly for preaching. All of which perhaps leads us to conclude that the church’s worship is in service to the sermon. I completely disagree. In fact, I would argue just the opposite. The church’s worship is not in service to the sermon; the sermon is in service to the worship of the church. The sermon is merely one vehicle by which Christ may be exalted and proclaimed in the worship-life of a body of disciples. I disagree with those who would say there is no room for preaching in the life of a congregation, but I want to argue for a more balanced understanding of how the sermon functions within the worship framework of a group of disciples.

I think Dietrich Bonhoeffer once remarked that there are those moments that occur in preaching when it’s as if you can see the Risen Christ moving among His flock, mending broken hearts, wiping tears from faces, embracing the wounded and the bleeding. I very much like that image of the transformative power that is unleashed when Christ is proclaimed in a community of faith. May the Risen Christ continue to move among us as we worship together.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich

The word of cheap grace has been the ruin of more Christians than any commandment of works. – The Cost of Discipleship (Chr. Kaiser Verlag Munchen, 1937; reprint, NY: Macmillan, 1963), 59.

(4 February 1906, Breslau, Poland – 9 April 1945, Germany)