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Preaching and Character

While preparing for Sunday’s message on 2 Corinthians 5:17, I came across a great quote from William Barclay.  I disagree with Barclay on some points, including on his understanding of the phrase “fear of the Lord” in 2 Corinthians 5:11.  He suggests,

It is not so much the terror of the Christ he really talks about.  It is rather awe and reverence that he means (Barclay, The Letter to the Corinthians, 207).

We will agree to disagree on this interpretation.  However, he nails it with his comments on v. 12 which reads, ”We are not commending ourselves to you again but giving you cause to boast about us, so that you may be able to answer those who boast about outward appearance and not about what is in the heart.”  Here’s what he says.  This is a tremendous reminder for all preachers and teachers of God’s word and also for every one who proclaims Christ in their daily spheres of influence.

Paul is trying to persuade men of his own sincerity.  He has no doubt whatever that in the sight of God his hands are clean and his motives pure, but his enemies have cast suspicion on them, and he wishes to demonstrate his sincerity to his Corinthian friends.  This is not from any selfish desire to vindicate himself.  It is from the knowledge that, if his sincerity is questioned, the impact of his message will be injured.  A man’s message will always be heard in the context of his character.  That is why the preacher and the teacher must be beyond suspicion.  We have to avoid, not only evil, but the very appearance of evil lest anything make others think less, not of us, but of the message which we bring (emphasis added, Barclay, The Letters to the Corinthians, 208)

A Tragic Death

I just came across a news story in which a 29-year-old Southern Baptist pastor was tragically shot and killed by police.  You can read the story here.  This is a very difficult reminder that no one knows the amount of time that we have to serve God in any capacity.  We are bullet proof until the One who gives and takes life says it’s time.  An untimely death is only from our human perspectives.  Nevertheless, his wife, family, and the church at which he ministered will need much prayer during this time of a loss.  

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12) 

On Dying Well

It is all too easy to skip over a discussion on the inevitable.  Life is short.  No one escapes death.  The Bible reminds us through images that our days on earth are brief.  Psalm 144:4 uses two different metaphors to highlight the brevity of our lives,

Man is like a breath, his days are like a passing shadow. 

Similarly James 4:14 says,

Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring.  What is your life?  For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

A breath.  A shadow.  A mist.  It’s no wonder that Solomon says in Ecclesiastes 7:2,

It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart.

The Contemporary English Version renders the verse this way,

It’s better to go to a funeral than to attend a feast; funerals remind us that we must all die.

Morbid?  Yes.  But death is simply a reality we cannot escape.  To think about dying well is admittedly not on our radars every moment of the day.  However, there are occasions (and they increase as we grow older) when we are confronted with our own mortality whether it is through the death of a loved one or when he hear of someone who has been diagnosed with a terminal illness.  Richard Sibbes had these insightful words on dying well,

Therefore if we desire to end our days in joy and comfort let us lay the foundation of a comfortable death now betimes. To die well is not a thing of that light moment as some imagine: it is no easy matter. But to die well is a matter of every day. Let us daily do some good that may help us at the time of our death. Every day by repentance pull out the sting of some sin that so when death comes we may have nothing to do but to die. To die well is the action of the whole life. He never dies well for the most part that dies not daily, as Paul saith of himself, ‘I die daily,’ 1 Cor xv 81; he laboured to loose his heart from the world and worldly things. If we loose our hearts from the world and die daily, how easy it will be to die at last! He that thinks of the vanity of the world, and of death and of being with Christ for ever, and is dying daily, it will be easy for him to end his days with comfort (Richard Sibbes, The Complete Works of Richard Sibbes, 1:349-50). 

In his book, Addictions: A Banquet in the Grave, Ed Welch reminds us that addiction is a universal human experience, not limited to chemicals.  Therefore, every Christian is susceptible to an addiction of one kind or another.  Every addiction is built upon the foundation of internalized, unconfessed sin.  

Sin by its very nature is more often quiet and secretive than loud and public.  For every overt episode of rage, there are dozens of jealousies, manipulations, white lies, and malicious thoughts, one of which immediately register on the conscience.  And, according to Scripture, the greatest sin of all is even more covert: I do not love the Lord my God with my whole mind and heart.  If our failure to consistently worship the true God is the key feature of sin, we are sinners all (Ed Welch, Addictions, 21).

As Christians, we are too often willing to harbor covert sin.  Before we know it, we are under its dominion.  A sensitivity to covert sin is one spiritual discipline to protect us against overt life-dominating sin. 

But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires (Romans 13:14)

In this month’s edition of The Voice of the Martyrs periodical Tom White, director of VOM, cites Wilbur Rees who said,

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.  Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine.  I don’t want enough of God to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant.  I want ecstasy, not transformation.  I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth.  I want a pound in the Eternal in a paper sack.  I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.

White is reminding the reader that an engagement with the persecuted church, even from the comforts of the West, will mean, at minimum, a serious emotional investment.  The graphic pictures, the heart-wrenching stories, and the deep suffering of separated families because a spouse is carried off to prison for naming the name of Christ are hard to see, read, and imagine.  But it is reality for many Christians.  White challenges the reader when he writes,

Perhaps how we view published images of persecuted Christians–some consider them to be too graphic, in poor taste or sensational journalism, while others see an opportunity for fellowship and love–could depend upon how much of the cross we have been taught to carry.  Three dollars worth of the cross does not include the sharp emotions of grief and pain.  We can starve ourselves, our congregation and our Christian denominations if our sackful of God is too small.

Perhaps keeping connected with the persecuted church is the kind of “soul-explosion” and “sleep disturbance” that we desperately need!  A closing word from the author of Hebrews is fitting,

Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them; and those who are mistreated, since you are also in the body (Hebrews 13:3).

This came out of Kevin DeYoung’s and Ted Kluck’s, Why We Love the Church: In Praise of Institutions and Organized Religion.  It is a hypothetical narrative of a dismayed churchgoer expressing their frustration with the “institutional, organized church.”  So true, irreverent, and funny (its humor is bound up in its basis in reality): 

The institutional church is so (pejorative adjective). When I go to church I feel completely (negative emotion). The leadership is totally (adjective you would use to describe Richard Nixon) and the people are (noun that starts with un-). The services are (adjective you might use to describe going to the dentist), the music is (adjective you would use to describe the singing on the whole congregation is (choose among: “passive,” “comatose,” “hypocritical,” or “Rush Limbaugh Republicans”). The whole thing makes me (medical term).

I had no choice but to leave the church. My relationship with (spiritual noun) is better than ever. Now I meet regularly with my (relational noun, pl.) and talk about (noun that could be the focus of a liberal arts degree) and Jesus. We really care for each other. Sometimes we even (choose among: “pray for each other,” “feed the homeless together,” or “share power tools”). This is church like it was meant to be. After all, (insert: “Where two or three are gathered, there I am in the midst of you,” or “the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life,” or “we don’t have to go to church, we are the church”). I’m not saying everyone needs to do what I’ve done, but if you are tired of (compound phrase that begins with “institutional” or ends with “as-we-know-it”), I invite you to join the (noun with political overtones) and experience (spiritual noun) like you never will by sitting in a (choose among the following architectural put-downs: “wooden pew,” “steepled graveyard,” “stained-glassed mausoleum,” or “glorified concert hall”) week after week. When will the (biblical noun) starting being the (same biblical noun) (DeYoung and Kluck, Why We Love the Church: In Praise of Institutions and Organized Religion, 14)?

Here are two statistical reasons why American churches need to be concerned with planting churches in the United States:

The US population continues to grow rapidly.  David T. Olson’s writes in his 2008 book, The American Church in Crisis,

Alyzandra, or ‘Aly’ as her parents nicknamed her, was born in Chicago on October 18, 2006, just before six o’clock in the morning—near the exact time the Census Bureau predicted that the U.S. population would reach 300 million . . . Whoever was the 300 millionth America, his or her arrival made one thing perfectly clear—at a time when the populations of most developed nations were stagnant or declining, the United States was growing at unprecedented numbers (David T. Olson, The American Church in Crisis, 34). 

As the population increases, we need to be more committed—not less committed—to establishing gospel-preaching churches in the United States. 

The number of churches in America is not keeping up with the need.  4,009 churches are started every year but when churches that closed are factored in (3,700 every year!), we are simply not keeping up.  Again from Olson’s book,

Unfortunately, the 3,700 churches that close per year reduce the impact of the 4,000 new churches that start, leaving a net yearly gain of 300 churches in the United States.  A net gain of 3,205 churches is needed each year for the American church to keep up with the population growth (David T. Olson, The American Church in Crisis, 146). 

Every Christian can and should be involved in the task of planting churches in one way or another.  The Apostle Paul shares this testimony about the church at Thessalonica,

For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere, so that we need not say anything (1 Thessalonians 1:8). 

Doug McLachlan rightly observes,

The church [at Antioch] was birthed by unknowns (Acts 11:19-21).  This is perfectly consistent with the emphasis in Acts that God accomplishes His goals on earth through a variety of people.  The complex and beautiful mosaic of people whom God used in the rapid expansion of the Christian faith is thrillingIt means that there was no singular mold for ministry in the New Testament church, and that God is prepared to use ordinary people to accomplish extraordinary objectives, if they will make themselves available (emphasis added, Doug McLachlan, “Antioch,” in Missions in a New Millennium, 276). 

I’ve always handled the invocation at the beginning of our worship services.  However, it’s not until recently that I have incorporated a pastoral prayer.  Dan Brown’s article prodded me in this direction.  Consequently, I have been doing some reading on the subject.  In Lecture to My Students, Spurgeon provides these gems on public prayer (Lecture Four):

On the importance of skilled prayer

Let me, therefore, very earnestly caution you, beloved brethren, against spoiling your services by your prayers: make it your solemn resolve that all the engagements of the sanctuary shall be of the best kind.

On the false notion that extemporaneous (“free”) prayer is inherently inferior to liturgical (i.e., pre-packaged) prayers (this is one of my favorites and also one of the most convicting)

Had free prayer been universally of a higher order a liturgy would never have been thought of, and to-day forms of prayer have no better apology than the feebleness of extemporaneous devotions.  The secret is that we are not so really devout at heart as we should be.  Habitual communion with God must be maintained, or our public prayers will be vapid [i.e., flat or dull] or formal.  If there be no melting of the glacier high up in the ravines of the mountain, there will be no descending rivulets to cheer the plain.  Private prayer is the drill ground for our more public exercises, neither can we long neglect it without being out of order when before the people.

On humilty in public prayer

We may speak boldly with God, but still he is in heaven and we are upon earth, and we are to avoid presumption.

On the danger of eloquence for the sake of the audience in public prayer

Beware of having an eye to the auditors; beware of becoming rhetorical to please the listeners.  Prayer must not be transformed into an ‘oblique sermon’.  It is little short of blasphemy to make devotion an occasion for display . . . Remember the people in your prayers, but do not mould your supplications to win their esteem.

On the “sickening superabundance of endearing words”

When ‘Dear Lord,’ and ‘Blessed Lord,’ and ‘Sweet Lord,’ come over and over again as vain repetitions, they are among the worst of blots . . . A profusion of ‘ohs!’ and other interjections may be well dispensed with; young speakers are often at fault here.

On actually praying, not preaching, when you pray

Preach in the sermon and pray in the prayer

On the importance of the pastor praying (admittedly, a debatable point but it seems to grow out of the importance of prayer not out of a false clergy/laity dichotomy.  Spurgeon will go on to say, “Thus much I have said in order to impress upon you that you must highly esteem public prayer, and seek of the Lord for the gifts and graces necessary to its right discharge”)

I endeavor invariably to take all the service myself for my own sake, and I think also for the peoples.  I do not believe that ‘anybody will do for the praying.’  No, sirs, it is my solemn conviction that the prayer is one of the most weighty, useful, and honourable parts of the service, and that I ought to be even more considered than the sermon.

On the selection of other men to pray (in the rare occasion from Spurgeon’s perspective)

Appoint the ablest men to pray, and let the sermon be slurred sooner than the approach to heaven.

On the content of public prayer

As I have said before, there is no need to make the public prayer a gazette of the week’s events, or a register of the births, deaths, and marriages of your people, but the general movements that have taken place in the congregation should be noted by the minister’s careful heart.

On the length of public prayer (Here he recounts that the Puritans would pray for 45 minutes or longer because they did not know if that occasion might be the last time they pray before the assembly.  For his day, Spurgeon contends that 25 minutes is inexcusable; 20 minutes is lengthy but acceptable on rare occasions.  Considering the generations that have followed since the time of his lectures, even his recommendation ought to be reconsidered and shortened to 3-5 minutes.)

We are now speaking of those public prayers which come before or after the sermon, and for these ten minutes is a better limit than fifteen.  Only one in a thousand would complain of you for being too short, while scores will murmur at your being wearisome in length.  ‘He prayed me into a good frame of mind,’ George Whitefield once said of a certain preacher, ‘and if he had stopped there, it would have been very well; but he prayed me out of it again by keeping on.’ . . . It is necessary in prayer to drawnear unto God, but it is not required of you to prolong your speech till everyone is longing to hear the word ‘Amen.’

On quoting Scripture during public prayer

I cannot, however, leave the point without urging upon you literal accuracy in all quotations from the word of God.  It ought to be a point of honour among ministers always to quote Scripture correctly.  It is difficult to always be correct, and because it is difficult, it should be all the more the object of our care.. . If you cannot makeextracts from Scripture correctly, why quote it at all in your petitions?  Make use of an expression fresh from your own mind, and it will be quite as acceptable to God as a scriptural phrase defaced or clipped.

On the ordering of public prayer

In order to prevent custom and routine from being enthroned among us, it will be well to vary the order of service as much as possible . . . we will not be bound to sing here and pray there, but will vary the order of service to prevent monotony.

On one’s personality in public prayer

Never imitate those who are earnest.  You know a good man who groans, and another whose voice grows shrill when he is carried away with zeal, but do not therefore moan or squeak in order to appear as zealous as they are.  Just be natural the whole way through, and ask of God to be guided in it all.

On the impact of private prayer on our public prayer

I feel, my brethren, that we ought to prepare ourselves by private prayer for public praying  By living near to God we ought to maintain prayerfulness of spirit, and then we shall not fail in our vocal pleadings.

On genuine piety manifested in public prayer and a bad sermon (com’on brothers, you know we all need to hear this one)

Let your petitions be plain and heart-felt; and while your people may sometimes feel that the sermon was below the mark, may they also feel that the prayer compensated for it all.

A Ministry Neighbor

On Sunday, August 9, we are having Pastor Lee Ormiston with us for a church planting emphasis.   Lee Ormiston is the Senior Pastor at Family Baptist Church in Minneapolis.  Family Baptist is ministering effectively and intentionally in the inner city.  This is a ministry that lives and breathes evangelism.  James Mullen is a member of Family Baptist.  He is also the founder and director of Christ Satisfies Ministries, which primarily ministers to gang members, drug dealers, prostitutes, and the homeless.  James was recently featured in the Minneapolis Star Tribune.  The article is a testimony to the impact he is having in his Jerusalem.  I rejoice in the ministry of Family Baptist Church and Christ Satisfies Ministries.  While our ministry contexts are quite different, we have this in common: sinners who desperately need the gospel.

You talk about something that hits hard–nothing hits harder than a well-placed sermon application.  Consider Stephen’s sermon in Acts 7.  The body of the sermon runs from v. 2 through v. 50.  It is an excellent recounting of Israel’s history.  Stephens also weaves in Scripture throughout his discourse.  It is a homiletic masterpiece.  Moreover, as Stephen waxes eloquent there isn’t much with which his audience disagreed.  Until v. 51.  This is when Stephen begins to “meddle.”  He says,

You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. [52] Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, [53] you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it (Acts 7:51-53).

The hammer came down.  The sermon hit people between the eyes.  Stephen didn’t even need a single stanza from “Just as I Am.”  The people responded.  Oh boy, did they ever respond.

Now when they heard these things they were enraged, and they ground their teeth at him . . . then they cast him out of the city and stoned him (Acts 7:54, 58a).

When I read this text it provided a powerful reminder of the importance of application in my sermons.  As a preacher, I have a responsibility to speak plainly and pertinently to my audience.  This is precisely what Stephen did.  His application hit his hearers like a hammer and evoked a response.  A pointed sermon application led to the first Christian martyr.  Let’s be faithful in proclaiming and applying the text to the lives of our hearers.

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