1 Comment

Fostering Hearing God’s Word Together, Online

By Justin Rossow

Part of any preaching ministry is fostering hearing ears and receptive lives. Scripture invites us to ruminate on God’s Word, to steep our hearts, minds, and daily lives in His promises.

In today’s Social Media culture, preachers have unprecedented tools for supporting the mutual conversation of the saints in the weekly lives of their hearers. Faithful reception and processing of weekly proclamation can take place communally, online.

Take this blog for instance:

All for the Price of a Coffee

Rearview MirrorRick, one of our members and a truck driver by trade, was excited to share with me how the last week’s sermon had affected his real life experience. He told me the story in great detail; I immediately walked into my office, typed it up as word for word as I could remember, and then emailed it to him, asking if I could use it on our blog. He was pleased to say yes.

Capture stories people share about God’s work in their life through the Word; it encourages others to listen with attention and intention, as if God wanted to be part of their daily lives.

Here’s another:

On Being Dull

1 Gallon of Milk in a milk carton on a shiny table with white background.We have a team of writers at our congregation who have agreed to show up on Sunday morning and pay attention as if God actually had something to say to them this week. They are looking to take something from God’s Word and let it affect their faith and their life. And then they share what that looks like for them.

This blog is a response not only to a single sermon, but to one of the themes that came out of an Epiphany to Lent sermon series on the Gospel of Mark. The way Krissa shares how the Word is at work in her life invites us to imagine the Word at work in ours.

OK, one more, just so you get the idea I’m talking about:

The Ordinary

laundryOn this particular week we had a guest preacher from Lutheran Bible Translators. While the preacher covered quite a bit of ground in his sermon, Miriam picks up on one point–perhaps not even the most central point of the sermon–and hears comfort for her hectic daily life.

The point of inviting lay response to sermons is not to get the hearers to regurgitate your sermon, but to take something (anything!) with them from God’s Word in worship out into their week. In this way, the holy and the ordinary intersect and inform one another.

Worship in My Week

What We Do

At St. Luke Lutheran Church, we set out to make our online presence a content-driven, discipleship-focused experience. The central terminal of our online activity is our web page, www.stlukeaa.org.

And one of the first things we did when we transition to a content-driven, discipleship-focused model was to enlist lay writers to respond to worship in ways that modeled applying God’s Word in their week.

We schedule writers by Sunday of the month, with a couple of backups, just in case.

Their marching orders? Listen for what God has for you in worship this week and tell us how Jesus is using that in your daily walk. The result is a weekly response, most often to the sermon, which models a receptive hearing of God’s Word.

Why We Do It

Our writers regularly report that they experience worship differently when it’s their week to write. They make sure they attend worship with almost no exception. They listen carefully, not just to the sermon, but to the words read, sung, prayed, and confessed. They take notes, pray for open ears and hearts, ponder the Word, and keep their eyes open for how that Word might be trusted more fully, lived out more faithfully, or more regularly relied on for peace, comfort, or forgiveness.

In short, they worship like we are all supposed to, all the time.

But they also notice a change in their worship over time. Given enough once a month focused hearing, they can’t help but start paying attention other times, too. It’s as if once the connection between God’s Word in worship and God’s Word in my week is turned on, it’s hard to turn off.

But we don’t ask our lay writers to respond just so they can grow in faith and following; when other hearers of God’s Word see this kind of reception in the pew next to them, the attitude starts to rub off.

But more than a receptive attitude, the kinds of responses we get count as another way of bringing God’s Word of Law and Gospel to bear on the lives of real people in real need.

Theologically, these blogs end up under the category of the Mutual Consolation of the Saints: fellow believers in their everyday conversation are speaking Jesus into the real life situations of their family, friends, and acquaintances.

When the Word comes not only from the pulpit, but from the person down the street, you hear that Word differently.

Stats

This kind of sermon response writing is only one of the flavors on our discipleship content blog. But the Worship in My Week series is foundational to what we do.

While we average around 750 in weekend attendance across five services and three geographical locations in our multisite, our daily average of page views on our website is 400-450. That means every two days we have more interaction with people online than we do in weekly worship.

Because of other social media like Facebook and Twitter, the Word preached and taught in our congregation gets shared, commented on, discussed–read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested, online. And because all of our content can easily be shared, our blog posts have a way of finding their way into the homes and lives of people who would never darken the door of a church.

So how might you experiment with developing this faith conversation in your setting? Here are some general guidance followed by some very doable action steps to get started.

General Guidelines for Fostering Hearing Ears, Online

1. START (but don’t stop) with SPECIAL INVITATION

Don’t put an ad in your church newsletter. (You still have a printed newsletter? Seriously? You know how many of those tree-killing, dead-end communication pieces end up in the landfill?! Seriously, dude, commit to a discipling, content-driven web page!)

Listen to the kinds of things people say to you after worship. If they comment on how much they liked your sermon, ask them what was meaningful for them. Look for thoughtful response. And keep your eyes open for stories of how God’s Word showed up in their week.

Your people want to listen. And they believe God is speaking life and forgiveness and faithfulness into their lives. Go out of your way to extend a special invitation to someone you think gets it. Ask them to listen intentionally and prayerfully. Invite them to put into words what Jesus is doing in their life this week. And see what happens next …

2. Foster an ACTIVE life of PASSIVE reception.

We know we can’t take any credit at all for salvation; at the same time, the means God promises to use can be disregarded, marginalized, and misused.

The tension inherent in an all-powerful Word that can be rejected or ignored is felt by the hearer who recognizes the work of the Spirit in, with, and under the Word, AND at the same time, eagerly pays attention to the means.

We want our hearers to work hard to receive from worship what Jesus wants to give, without their work sneaking back into the equation of salvation.

hand crafted riverSo we try to instill an attitude of active participation in a fundamentally passive activity. in our writers, but also in the congregation at large. In many ways, the writers are a microcosm of the hearing community. And their development spurs the development of the whole.

You can hear me preach about that active/passive dichotomy here: Paul and Lydia.

 

3. Allow them to be DIFFERENT from you.

When you recruit a writer, you aren’t looking for someone to regurgitate the sermon. The point of the exercise is not to see if they get all three of your main points or if they can guess your structure. You want people who will listen to the Word and relate it to their own lives.

So don’t grade their work; encourage them to look for where the Word for the day touches their lives in a meaningful way. And take the posture of a fellow hearer; perhaps they will preach something back to you from your sermon that you needed to hear this week.

 

4. Avoid HEROIC ACTION.

When working with your writers, make sure they understand you are not asking for miraculous stories of heroic faith or spectacular life change. I mean, those are good, too, but this is not a National Enquirer for church people.

Often times, the stories that resonate most with the community are the ones that show the presence of Jesus or the working of the Spirit in the midst of the most commonplace circumstances.

Allowing the sacred text to invade the space usually reserved for the unsacred helps hearers see ways in which the Word connects with even ordinary lives.

Never Alone

boots1In this blog, a mother of 6.5 writes in direct response to a sermon she heard. She never mentions the pastor, the worship service, or the sermon directly. Yet anyone who experienced the sermon would experience this blog as a real-life application of what was preached.

Notice that the end result of the blog is neither miraculous nor grandiose; just a mom, doing the best she can, overwhelmed with what’s in front of her, but catching a glimpse of God’s heart beyond the mundane.

 

5. Have a REVIEW PROCESS not a permission process.

Heresy has killed its thousands; bureaucracy its tens of thousands.

That is to say, you don’t want to publish anything damaging to the faith on your blog. (Duh.) But you also can’t be so afraid of making a mistake that no one except the pastor can ever write anything online.

In our context, we have a process for review. Blogs come in from any number of writers. Some already come formatted; others need a featured image or some kind of additional work. They all get read by a volunteer editor. And someone, usually a very part-time staff person, touches it at least once before it goes public.

Sometimes the editing happens the day after it posts. That’s not ideal, but neither is staring at a stack of blogs that can’t go to press until they get edited.

We always reserve the right to take a blog off of our page; and we reserve the right to make editorial changes as needed. If a blog needs serious work, we sit down with the author and talk about what changes have to be made and why.

But we publish far too many blogs for each of them to go through a permission-granting set of hoops. If one of our volunteers or part-time staff has a theological question about a blog, they ask. In general, however, we get good people going in the right direction and let them run.

6. Model HEARING and LIVING of the Word.

The life change you hope might eventually be evident in your people will first be evident in your life. The active engagement in passive reception is modeled not just in the pulpit, but in the life of the preacher.

If your preaching doesn’t change YOU, why would it change anyone else?

I recently spoke to a pastor who had just preached on never letting anyone in your circle of influence be abandoned or alone. “Dang,” he said, “My whole sermon was on not letting people be alone. Then my neighbor calls me up and is going into surgery. He doesn’t have any family in the area. Now I have to take this guy to the hospital…”

Take your sermon into elders meetings and hospital visits and staff devotions and passing prayers with strangers. If you read it in your Bible this morning, pray it with your counseling session this afternoon. The more the Word proclaimed on Sunday impacts the preacher’s own life, the more the hearers will begin to see the preached Word as a powerful force that changes their faith and life, too.

Those responding to the sermon on the blog are simply striving to live out what was preached in the context of their families, their struggles, their hopes and fears. The preacher is part of the community that hears the Word proclaimed and lives out that Word in concrete ways during the week.

 

7. There is no substitute for CONTENT.

In real estate, the adage is Location, Location, Location. For your online presence, the adage is Content, Content, Content.

With the sophistication of search engines perpetually on the rise, what shows up in your Google search or Facebook feed is increasingly tailored to you based on your history and the perceived quality of the content being shared.

If nobody reads or shares your stuff, no one will read or share your stuff. And if you don’t have stuff for people to read and share, no one will read or share your stuff.

Content, Content, Content. Both quality and quantity. Again and again and again.

Regular, quality content is one reason the Worship in My Week blogs are so good for our web page. Whatever else is going on that week, we’re pretty sure there’s going to be worship. And we will have probably spent a good amount of time producing that content.

Sermon response blogs are a great way to capture content you are spending energy producing already.

 

Get Started Today

  • Ask one person, one time.
    Don’t invite someone to write a sermon response every week until Jesus comes back; ask them to try it once. And see what happens.

  • Make the expectation clear.
    Their task is to find something from worship to take into their week. It’s OK if it isn’t the sermon. (!) But it should be an honest engagement with the Word. Check out this video as a paradigm: Dartboard Vs. Catcher’s Mitt

  • Grant access to offset challenge.
    High challenge needs high invitation to avoid discouragement. If you are asking someone to put their faith walk on display for the congregation, you will want to make yourself available to them. You can’t proofread every blog every time, but taking time to work through multiple drafts or talk through ideas those first couple of blogs will help a new writer feel confident and encouraged.

Shaped for a Purpose

Hands working on pottery wheel ,  retro style tonedRoxanne is one of our writers who is willing to go out on a limb, but would like to know you are there in the tree with her.

Especially at the beginning, investing personal time with Roxanne meant she felt encouraged and up to the challenge. And the honest and powerful things she writes enhances the hearing of the Word in the lives of our people on a regular basis.

 

Phase Two: Build a Team

  • Make a rotation
    First Sunday of the Month, Second Sunday, Fifth Sunday, Call Me If You Need Me, I’ll Let You Know If Something Hits Me–it takes all kinds…
  • Provide direction and support
    Most writers will have multiple questions over time. Ongoing development is a key component. We train our writers but then also keep in touch with them over time.
  • Be open to one shot wonders
    Keep your ears open for faith stories from people who aren’t on your regular team. You might have to write the story for them or send one of your staff to interview them, but capture their story of God’s Word at work in their lives.We had over 200 different people who contributed at least once last year on our blog,  from college professors to confirmation youth. The diversity helps the community experience a vibrant Word at work in their lives.
  • Allow for a two-way street
    Comments on the blog or on Facebook help the dialogue continue. Citing a blog in the sermon elevates the roll of your discipleship presence online.

 

Here are a few more tools for supporting a discipling presence online:

Discipleship Online

digital bible study

This blog talks about our online presence in terms of our congregational discipleship strategy.

It’s a great place to send new writers to catch a vision for what we are trying to do online.

 

 

Writers Page

pencilsThis static content lets our writers know what to expect from us, and what we expect from them. A couple of times a year we get together to talk about how the process is working, answer any questions, and talk about topics we will need content for in the future.

 

 

The tag we use for this kind of blog is Worship in My Week. Check out more here: http://stlukeaa.org/tag/worship-in-my-week/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 Comments

Hope for the Future and a Bright Red Nose

By Justin Rossow

Of course the hood on his sweatshirt is up: the young African American man in the Walgreens line in front of me looks like he is doing his best to fit a stereotype. Late teens, early twenties; jeans below the hip; six inches of stylish boxers showing above a wide, leather belt; gold-capped tooth; impatiently playing with a dollar bill and a handful of loose change; hood pulled up.

Everything about him makes my brain say, “Thug. Punk. Vandal. Thief. Danger.”

I hate that about my brain.

Maybe that’s why, when the white man in front of us finally gets his question answered and wanders back toward aisle three, I ask if I can add the thug’s only item, a 16 oz. Coke, to my bill.

Or maybe he seems like he’s in a hurry and I am, too, and checking out one customer is twice as fast as checking out two.

Or maybe it’s the Spirit of Jesus.

Or maybe all of the above.

“Can I buy your Coke?” I ask as he approaches the cashier.

“Sure!” He smiles from behind the hood, showing off the gold.

But he doesn’t take the large drink and go away, like I expect. He shuffles around a little bit and pulls something out of his pocket. I change my mind: he’s closer to 17 than 21.

The young man smiles almost timidly at the cashier and at me and shakes his head: “I just bought this,” he says. He shows us both a bright red clown nose; a charity fundraiser.

He’s amused at the thought: “It was the same price as the Coke. I just bought this for charity. And then you buy my Coke.” He smiles and shakes his head again. “Pay it forward.”

He takes the bright red Coke can and slips it into the front pocket of his sweatshirt along with the bright red clown nose.

But he doesn’t leave. He hovers at the head of the line as I produce my wallet and credit card, and the cashier rings me out, and I swipe and sign, and the receipt gets printed, torn, and stuffed into the nearest bag.

It’s almost awkward. What’s he waiting for?

Thug. Punk. Vandal. Thief. Danger.

With a bright red clown nose for charity?

He moves to walk out with me, but we stop just in front of the bright red automatic Walgreens doors. He steps in front of me and, turning, looks me in the eye for the first time.

He offers me his hand, which I shake. His palm is smooth and cool; his fingers are long and thin; his grip is firm, but almost tender.

I was wrong. He can’t be any older than 17. Maybe even 16. He’s probably in high school. My daughter starts high school in the fall.

“Thank you,” he says simply. We shake on a Coke and a promise of hope for the future and a world in which you give and receive generously and freely.

And then my friend turns and disappears out the automatic doors.

I’m standing in a Walgreens 7.7 miles from Ferguson, MO, holding a bag of decongestant. And the world is changed.

1 Comment

My Prodigal Father: A Story to Upset the World

by Michael Zeigler, Pastor, Epiphany Lutheran Church, St. Louis, MO

In Luke 15 Jesus tells the story of a prodigious, extravagant, reckless, and—in the eyes of some—wasteful father. Of course, the story itself is fictitious; as Jesus was inclined to do, the Lord just made it up. Nevertheless, this story has the ring of truth. It possesses the power to upset our self-spun stories and draw us into the very heart of God, who is re-storying the world in Jesus.

God is re-storying the world in Jesus.

About four years ago, I wrote “My Prodigal Father,” a contemporary re-telling of the Jesus’ story in Luke 15. I had help from a couple of friends—Ryan Tinetti and Bill Northend. The storied approach we took to theology and preaching might invite other preachers of the Word to consider how they can creatively and contextually use story, parable, and performance to help listeners experience the heart of God in Jesus his Son.

Here is my re-telling of Jesus’ parable, called “My Prodigal Father.” Following the video you will find some of the ways of thinking that led to this kind of preaching in a local congregation’s Sunday morning worship.

Assumptions about Preaching

Preaching for a community of faith demands a variety of approaches, structures, and modes of delivery. One week, the preacher will aim at their heads and address them cognitively to clarify an important doctrinal point; the next week, at their heart, to compel them affectively.

Another week, the pastor will craft the sermon to provide a formative experience—one that addresses both head and heart. All this is done to persuade and form them to be Christians—cross-carrying, neighbor-serving disciples of Jesus, who depend on God with childlike faith.

Preaching for a community of faith demands a variety.

Therefore, I do not assume that a dramatic, first person narrative is the “best” kind of sermon. We need preaching that defines and elaborates the mysteries of God. We also need preaching that does not describe and distinguish divine mysteries, but suffers and celebrates them.

Different Kinds of Story

The notion of “narrative theology” has become somewhat faddish in the last few decades. However, the approach reaches at least as far back as Irenaeus of Lyons, whose critique of the Gnostics, written around 200 A. D., can be summarized as: “What’s wrong with the Gnostics? They’re telling a different story!”

Some basic conceptual categories benefit a storied approach to theology and preaching. Roman Catholic theologian Terrence Tilley suggests some in his book Story Theology. Tilley distinguished between three kinds of stories: (1) those that Set Up worlds; (2) those that Set In worlds; and (3) those that Upset worlds.

These categories help clarify what Jesus may have been doing with his parables. Is he telling an earthly story with a heavenly meaning, as it’s commonly said? Or, is he telling an imaginative story in order to subvert an established story of the world?

At the beginning of Luke chapter 15, we are told that “the tax collectors and sinners were drawing near to hear Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”

Jesus tells stories that subvert the world his hearers have established for themselves.

So, what does Jesus do? He tells 3 stories that subvert the world his hearers have established for themselves. In Tilley’s terms, Jesus intends these stories to Upset the world.

Stories that Set Up a World

Contemporary theory about story assumes—in a very postmodern way—that stories have the power to create, shape, and tear down worlds. At one end of the spectrum, Tilley puts stories that Set Up the world as we know it. For the participants of that world, this kind of story is unquestionably true.

Back to 200 A.D., the story that Set Up the Christian world was what Irenaeus called the regula fide, or rule of faith, the plotline of which is confessed in the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds. Because the Gnostics had a different story to account for the world, they could not be telling the Christian Story.

So what kind of stories Set Up the world(s) of our contemporary culture? William Cavanaugh calls one such story the “Myth of Religious Violence.” As this story goes, “the modern, secularized State arose to keep peace among the warring religious factions.”

The regula fide and the “Myth of Religious Violence” Set Up rival worlds.

Having saved Europe from the Post-Reformation wars of religion, the nation-state created the possibility of a perpetual peace through religious tolerance, free markets, and strong national defense. Next, liberal democracies banded together in an international coalition to spread this hope of peace around the world, fighting wars as a means to this most noble end. In many ways, this is the story—the mythos—that has set up the modern, western world (William Cavanaugh, The Myth of Religious Violence: Secular Ideology and the Roots of Modern Conflict, New York: Oxford University Press, 2009).

Let’s quickly analyze this Set Up story. Note how the plot begins with conflict and moves toward resolution. The old world, marked by the wars of religion, was in a state of disarray and madness. But the new world promises perpetual peace.

The savior in this story is the secular nation-state. The state solves the problem by ensuring that religion remains a personal and private affair, which must be kept out of politics, thus saving the new world from warring religious factions. The story moves from contradiction to reconciliation; from instability to the creation of a stable world.

The regula fide and the “Myth of Religious Violence” Set Up and explain rival worlds. For those inside either worldview, these stories appear true in a self-apparent and unquestionable way.

Stories that Upset a World

On the opposite end of the story spectrum are stories that Upset an existing world. While the Set Up story begins with contradiction and moves to reconciliation, the Upset story begins with reconciliation and stability and moves toward contradiction and conflict. When a parable is told to subvert the existing equilibrium and clear the way for a new world, that parable is clearly an Upset story.

Many of the parable-stories of Jesus perform this world-subverting function. Take, for example, his story of the farmers in Mark 12:

“A man planted a vineyard and put a fence around it and dug a vat and built a tower, and leased it to farmers and went away on a journey. At the opportune time he sent a servant to the farmers to get from them some of the fruit of the vineyard. But taking him, they beat him and sent him away empty-handed. Again he sent another servant, and that one they struck on the heard and treated shamefully. And he sent another, and that one they killed.

And so with many others, some they beat and some they killed. He had one yet, a beloved son. Finally, he sent him to them, saying, “They will respect my son.”

But those farmers said to one another, “This is the heir. Come on, let’s kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.” And they took him and killed him and threw him out of the vineyard. What will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy those farmers and give the vineyard to others.”

Mark tells us that when the scribes and the elders heard this story, they began seeking to arrest Jesus, for they perceived that he had told this parable against them.

Jesus used this story to subvert the existing world—a world in which God’s faithful people faithfully pursued excellence by cherishing the things of God: the temple and the Torah. The religious leaders kept these things of God safe from external threats like Gentile pagans and from internal threats like Jewish sinners. The religious leaders were the heroes of this world.

But Jesus’ story subverted that world and made them the villains. So they killed him and threw him out of the vineyard. But, alas, the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. This is the Lord’s doing and it is marvelous in our eyes.

Jesus models a way for us to confront and persuasively subvert the false stories that are told by our culture and work their way into our communities of faith.

Perhaps not all, but many of Jesus’ parables function as stories that subtly subvert established worlds. These reigning stories of the world must be overthrown to prepare the way for the rule and reign of God. In this way, Jesus models a way for us to confront and persuasively subvert the false stories that are told by our culture and work their way into our communities of faith.

Present-day disciples of Jesus, who stand on this Rock, continue his work of subverting false worlds to clear the way for the new creation in Christ. If preaching for a faith community requires variety in preaching, and Jesus himself told stories to Upset the world of his hearers, perhaps one form of faithful preaching would re-tell these parables for a similar purpose.

The goal of my made-up story, “My Prodigal Father,” above, is to approximate, in a derivative way, the impact of Jesus’ inspired story. This kind of preaching seeks to use story, parable, and performance creatively and contextually to help listeners experience the heart of God, who is re-storying the world in Jesus, his Son.

Leave a comment

Avoiding The Lutheran Meat Grinder

By Justin Rossow

The proper division of Law and Gospel is one of the essential elements of Lutheran theology, and therefore of Lutheran preaching. But when good theology gets turned into rote practice, the result can be hazardous to your spiritual health.

You can get a handle on the definitions of Law and Gospel relatively simply: the Law tells us what we have to do to please God and, for fallen humanity, therefore shows us our sin. The Gospel is pure promise: it shows us what God did for us in Jesus and requires nothing from us. Easy enough.

But the practice of properly dividing Law and Gospel is difficult and, according to C. F. W. Walther—the guy who literally wrote the book on Law and Gospel—takes a life time to master. The difficulty comes not in defining the two, but in applying them.

The Law is spoken to break prideful sinners and bring them to repentance; the Gospel is the promise spoken to broken sinners that brings life, healing, and salvation. Of course, since we are 100% saint and 100% sinner at the same time, properly applying Law and Gospel can get tricky …

While Lutheran preachers going back to Luther have always sought to include both Law and Gospel in every sermon, it’s all too easy to make a Law/Gospel division not only the dynamic of our theology but the basic structure of our sermons.

Every sermon.

On any text.

Every Sunday.

Preach Law, then preach Gospel.

It’s all too easy to make a Law/Gospel division the basic structure of our sermons.

meat grinderWhen that happens, we are in danger of churning out sermons that sound the same week after week regardless of the unique aspects of the text or the people in front of us on any given Sunday. Preaching a formulaic one-half-Law-then-one-half-Gospel sermon every week requires us to strip every text down the least common denominator of how we have failed in what the text says and how Jesus forgives us anyway.

That kind of misapplication of the text could be called The Lutheran Meat Grinder because it takes the wide variety found in the biblical witness and reduces it all to the same uniform blah. Here’s how The Lutheran Meat Grinder typically works.

Paul tells us in Philippians 4: “Rejoice in the Lord always!” Stick that in The Lutheran Meat Grinder and your sermon looks like this:

  • Paul tells us to rejoice.
  • But, because of our sinfulness, we fail to rejoice.
  • So Jesus died on the cross to forgive our sins of not rejoicing.
  • And now, in the power of the Spirit, we can rejoice!

The author to the Hebrews encourages us: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us!” Put that through The Lutheran Meat Grinder and you get:

  • God wants us to run with endurance.
  • But, because of our sinfulness, we fail to run with endurance.
  • So Jesus ran His race to the cross for us, to forgive our sins of not enduring.
  • And now, in the power of the Spirit, we can run with endurance!

No matter if the text seeks to comfort, challenge, forgive, call to repentance, inspire action, or invite to prayer, you can make it say the same orthodox thing over and over again, turning any sermon into Law, then Gospel, then—if you dare—a little Sanctification at the end.

So how do you remain orthodox, but capture more of the variety expressed in the biblical text itself? Here are three suggestions.

 

1. Think Pragmatics

Pragmatics is the study of what a communication does. Is Paul trying to comfort or encourage? Is Jesus calling to trust or life change? Should your people think differently, act differently, or pray differently after this sermon?

The Lutheran Meat Grinder always sounds the same, in part because it always tries to do the same thing: preach hearers out of the Kingdom every week, and then preach them back in.

Your hearers need to know their sin and Jesus’ forgiveness, and they also need help taking the next step on their journey of faith. They could use some help figuring out how to rejoice always, or what running with endurance looks like, even as they cling to Jesus for the forgiveness of sins.

Focus on one small step the sermon can help the hearers make this week. Think pragmatics.

2. Vary the Structure

Another reason The Lutheran Meat Grinder produces homiletical sausage that looks the same every week is because of it’s structure: you preach one part Law, then one part Gospel.

In this case, our good theology has replaced good practice. It is essential that we trouble the comfortable and comfort the troubled. But the theological insight of Law/Gospel was never supposed to be a sermon structure.

In his Third Evening Lecture on Law and Gospel, C. F. W. Walther says, “You must not think that you have rightly divided the Word of Truth if you preach the Law in one part of your sermon and the Gospel in the other. No; a topographical division of this kind is worthless.”

Experiment with a variety of structures like Question Answered, Paradox Maintained, Story Interrupted, or Lowry’s Loop. Changing the structure from week to week will help both preachers and hearers stay interested and engaged.

3. Preach the Unique

Graphic images of faith and life aren’t limited to visions like Daniel or Revelation; even the Pauline epistles are alive with metaphors taken from city life, building construction, agriculture, marriage, parenting, clothing, the human body, household management, slavery, citizenship, the Roman court system, the Old Testament sacrificial system, the marketplace, banking, travel, warfare, the Olympics—and the list could go on.

The Lutheran Meat Grinder takes this rich variety and reduces it down to something that sounds the same week after week after week. And when the preacher is bored with the sermon, the hearers will be, too. Guaranteed.

Find what’s unique in the text and preach that. Don’t leave out Law or Gospel:  preach both from the unique dynamics of the unique images in the biblical text.

 

When we use The Lutheran Meat Grinder, we not only mistreat the Word of Truth, we also misshape the discipleship lives of our hearers. When we preach the same basic sermon every week regardless of the text or occasion, we teach our hearers how to ignore context, pragmatics, and the intent of the author. We teach them instead to generalize every text of Scripture into how I have failed and how Jesus still loves me.

Although technically true, such a truncated experience of God’s Word will lead over time to truncated Christians who know they are forgiven sinners but don’t know anything else about God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the life of faith, the mission of the Church, the Resurrection of the Flesh, or … anything else.

Truncated Christians know they are forgiven sinners but don’t know anything else.

So how do you teach your people to cling to the promise of forgiveness even as they rejoice in the wide variety of content, theme, and genre in Scripture? Preach what’s unique in the text. Experiment with different structures. And think pragmatics. Your sermons will sound, feel, and do something different from week to week. And your hearers will begin to encounter a richer Word in their own reading of Scripture as well.

Your people will be grateful you shelved The Lutheran Meat Grinder. And believe me, preaching will be a lot more fun!

For more on sermon structures, go to http://concordiatheology.org/sermon-structs/.

This blog was originally published in a shorter form at http://blog.lcef.org/2014/10/13/three-tips-avoid-lutheran-meat-grinder/

1 Comment

Paul and Lydia

By Justin Rossow

Sometimes you preach a metaphor IN the text. And sometimes you preach a metaphor FOR the text.

In Acts 16, Paul meets Lydia at a river. A literal river. Nothing metaphorical about it.

But the sermon below takes the image of a river–of tubing and whitewater rafting on a river–as a metaphor for what’s going on in the text.

hand crafted river

Exegesis of the text drives the primary experience of the sermon; but the images/metaphors help shape and guide the exposition of the text.

Even in this role of hook or window into the text, the basic metaphorical moves for preaching are still in effect. I still Evoke the Source, Map to the Target, Test the Limits, and See Through a New Lens. In this case, however, these dynamics shape the development rather than the structure of the sermon.

Paul and Lydia meet by God’s design at a river; this sermon uses the image of riding a river as a metaphor for what’s going on in the text. The literal and metaphorical overlap in a way that helps the image seem appropriate for the sermon without resorting to allegory.

You can preach a metaphor IN the text. But sometimes you end up preaching a metaphor FOR the text. Either way, metaphor can be a powerful tool for preaching.

2 Comments

Retooling Your Sermon Development

By Justin Rossow

Introduction: Retooling Your Preaching, Part 1

This fall I got to spend a couple of days at beautiful Camp Arcadia with deacons in the Michigan District for their annual retreat. We had a great time talking about preaching and exploring different tools that serve faithful proclamation. This blog series on Retooling Your Preaching is an overview of what we covered, and a place to explore further some of the concepts and methods we talked about during five hours of teaching over two days. Continue Reading »

Leave a comment

The 7 Tools for Development in Action

By Justin Rossow

Moments of MeditationWhen we preach, we make decision about how we are going to spend our time in the pulpit. Consciously or not, we choose how we are going to help the hearer create meaning out of the sermon. If you would like to be more intentional about how you shape the “moments of meditation” in your sermon, check out Retooling Your Sermon Development.

Here are some examples of the seven different methods of development from that blog in action. I’m sure you do many of these same things. The point isn’t how *awesome* these examples are; they are just ordinary moments in ordinary sermons. But they do evidence a variety of tools for preaching.

Your goal should not be to copy or even critique any of these examples. You don’t even have to like them. And yes, you could probably do better if you gave it some thought and effort.

That, I suppose, is the point of these examples: to encourage you to spend the thought and effort it takes to do something different in your sermon this week.

Whenever you try out a new tool, it will take longer and be more difficult than you think it should. That’s OK. The end product won’t be as good as you were expecting, either. That’s OK, too. You will probably need to work a new tool into your bag over time. In my experience, that effort is paid back in full: I preach better and my hearers listen better when I am intentional with how I develop a sermon. And it’s a lot more fun.

Whenever you try out a new tool, it will take longer and be more difficult than you think it should. That’s OK.

To help you identify and experiment with these tools, here are some examples to get you thinking in a new direction.

1. Narration

NarrationNarration puts an idea or experience into action and helps the hearers imagine what the sermon might look like it real life. Sometimes the narration is personal or historical; sometimes it is taken from fiction or created for the purpose of the sermon. Because there is such variety, the preacher will cue the hearers in on which kind of story this is (i.e. don’t tell someone else’s personal story as if it were your own, and don’t tell a fictional story as if it were real …).

Whatever the genre, narration expresses rising conflict over time that leads to a resolution. To avoid confusion, the resolution itself should tie directly to the experience and idea the preacher is conveying.

The following video segment (13:10-17:46) is taken from the end of a Frame and Refrain sermon I preached in Advent (you can read more about the sermon here). You can hear me set this story up as a fiction, and you will notice the story itself is nothing particularly heroic. Indeed, that’s part of the point: if we only ever tell heroic stories of faith, we risk leaving our hearers feeling like they just can’t connect with God’s Word in real life.

So I am making up a story that fits in the real life situation of my hearers. I build conflict over time–both in the back story and in the moment of confrontation–and the resolution is integral to the sermon itself. In fact, the resolution is stated in terms of the refrain used throughout the sermon: “It’s for me?!”

I also use a series of vivid details to help make the story concrete in the lives of the hearers. While too many details can bog down narration, every story needs enough multi-sensory details to allow the narration to form in the consciousness of the hearers.

 

2. Character

CharacterCharacter is obviously closely tied to narration. So what’s the difference? Even though the individual is probably embedded in a broader narrative, you are using Character as a method of development if the impact of the story–and therefore the meaning of this moment for reflection–is portrayed through the unique lens of an individual character.

The following is the text of the last scene of a Good Friday Tenebrae service. In fact, each of the seven worship moves in the Tenebrae service had been developed through the eyes of a particular character. The last scene–the entombment–is now viewed through the eyes of the Nicodemus character.

Character often focuses on a person’s response to an event and will often deal with an internal transformation as a result. Both of those features are included in this brief scene.

Nicodemus never expected a resurrection.

Well, that’s not quite correct: Nicodemus expected a resurrection of all the dead at the End of Time. But Jesus, raised all by Himself, in the middle of history? That wasn’t even a possibility.

So Nicodemus joins Joseph of Arimathea, another closet follower of the dead teacher. They carefully and lovingly prepare the body for burial.

The seventy-five pounds of myrrh and aloe are supposed to cover up the stench of rotting flesh as the body decomposed. And next year, around Passover, Nicodemus planned on coming back to move the bones of Jesus to a place they would rest until the Last Day.

Nicodemus had hoped this Jesus would usher in the End Times reign of God. But that dream was as dashed and broken as the corpse he cradled in his arms.

Nicodemus must have remembered his clandestine visit to Jesus, under the cover of night, so none of his friends would find out.

What is it Jesus had said? “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in Him.”

This didn’t feel like life, eternal or otherwise. Now all Nicodemus has left to do is bury a dead body. But this time, he doesn’t do it at night. He doesn’t hide his devotion to Jesus. Nicodemus is beyond fearing the fallout for his faith.

With the death of Jesus, Nicodemus becomes a faithful, if confused, disciple.

So what does the death of Jesus mean for your life? Are you ready to follow Jesus a little more publically this week? Do you look for the resurrection of all the dead, or was the resurrection of Jesus enough for you?

What does it mean for your future, for the future of those you love, to know that Jesus became like us even in this way: His body rested for a time in a tomb?

Jesus was hidden away, removed from sight, His body planted in the ground, but only for a time. Tonight, and at every Christian burial, we lay our loved one to rest, knowing—because of Jesus—there is more to the story.

At this point in the service, the last candle still lit—the Christ Candle—was removed from view. In the darkness, the congregation heard the strepitus followed by a promise read from 1 Cornithians 15. The service did not conclude at this point, but rather continued with the celebration of the Resurrection.

3. Serial Depiction

Serial DepictionIn the same Frame and Refrain Advent sermon that closed with Narration, above, I also used Serial Depiction to develop part of the message for the hearers. In the selection below (the video starts at 9:40, but you’ll have to stop it at 12:17 yourself …), you will hear one main idea expressed in four scenes presented in quick succession. This moment of reflection is tied back to the movement of the sermon as a whole with the repetion of the sermon’s refrain, “It’s for me?!”

The main idea in this section of the sermon—that universal salvation is becoming concrete and particular—is repeated in each scene of the Serial Depiction. The scenes are also ordered intentionally, moving from the kitchen sink to a bedroom, and then from an Advent devotion to the experience of communion in worship. The variety of contexts given briefly one after another is the identifying feature of Serial Depiction.

Usually, Serial Depiction will require more than just a couple of sentences for each scene; this example is on the short side when it comes to development. But as always, the context of the sermon determines how these methods are put into practice: at this point in this sermon, a more truncated Serial Depiction seemed appropriate. At other times you may wish to extend these scenes to add a more robust move to a sermon.

What sets Serial Depiction apart from Narration, Character, or Image, however, is the sense of momentum the multiple examples provide. When the scenes do become more detailed and drawn out, pay close attention to how they fit together and build on one another; otherwise you just end up with a series of short narrations.

continued on the next page