Effective Preaching: An Ethical Obligation
By Elizabeth J. Morgan, Retired Professor of English.
Richardson, Texas
Editor`s Note: A Ph.D. graduate in Rhetoric from Texas Woman`s University, Dr. Morgan has taught English at TWU and the University of Texas at Arlington. Her doctoral dissertation focused on the rhetoric of sermons.
Both clergy and laity have recognized for several decades a decline in effective preaching. The complaints range from dissatisfaction to downright scorn and boycott. In December, 1979, Time magazine offered a disturbing indictment of the American pulpit when it raised the question, "American Preaching: A Dying Art?"[1] Fred Buechner, a Presbyterian preacher and novelist from Milwaukee, was quoted in the Dallas Times Herald (1983) as saying, "Sermons are like dirty jokes. Even the best ones are hard to remember."[2] Jesuit theologian Walter J. Burghardt admitted that "the long-suffering laity are intolerant of the trivia we dish out, the constipation of thought amid a diarrhea of words…and are puzzled by our ability to declaim about the divine without a shred of feeling or emotion."[3] Donald McLeod (1978) of Princeton defended preaching only mildly when he described it as "the era of the average but in the pulpit fortunately that average is higher."[4]
The above complaints go back some twenty years. If these few examples are less than convincing about the mediocrity of modern preaching, talk with a recent pulpit search committee. "Where are the good preachers?" they ask. In a 1993 survey, George Barna found that only 44 percent of congregations rated preaching as excellent, whereas 81 percent of pastors rated their sermons as good or excellent.[5]
Let it not be suggested, however, that ministers are unaware of preaching weaknesses. Many pastors do prepare and want to preach well. One of their greatest frustrations is the feeling that they have not communicated the blessed Word. They have been taught structural organization, hermeneutic accuracy, biblical exegesis, exposition, relevance, application, appropriate delivery, and above all, doctrinal purity. Yet the problem with preaching today is not so much in the transmission of heresy or drivel but in no inspiring transmission at all.
Never have words been challenged to do so much. A generation of people conditioned to receive messages through both eye and ear seat themselves in pews before a preacher who is expected to communicate the most abstract of truths by mere language. Does this not suggest a rather complex problem in the pulpit?
Not to be ignored is the reality that problems in the pulpit emerged on the heels of the post-war language crisis in the public schools. Several decades have now passed since it was declared that Johnny could not read.
Many pulpits today host post-war generation pastors. If Pastor Johnny has a reading deficiency, his sermon preparation will be impacted.
Poor reading ability limits a preacher`s hermeneutic capacity because he may not assimilate biblical resources, much less organize them into accurate, appealing discourse. Likewise, he may also fail to understand, evaluate, and select discriminantly from theological scholarship, to say nothing of other forms of literature. His inadequate vocabulary does not facilitate accurate communication coinciding with reality. Consequently, he has difficulty delivering truth and recognizing deception.
Unfortunately, in addition to reading problems, the English language in the United States now publicly displays a spate of vulgarity and obscenity. John the minister preaches to audiences who are drowned in gutter language, tiresome clichés, and materialistic jargon, not to mention the "ya` know" syndrome and the teenage infection of "like" before every other phrase.
Linguists struggle to account for the decline in language purity and effectiveness, which cannot be attributed solely to a reading handicap. A likely consensus purports a close relationship between language and moral decline. John Milton, whose thoughts are classic, said that "when the language in common use in any country becomes irregular and depraved, it is followed by their degradation. For what do terms used without skill and meaning, which are at once corrupt and misapplied, denote but a people listless, supine, and ripe for servitude?"[6]
If sermons are to address this moral reality, preachers must fortify themselves with competence in language and hence in the capacity to know and express biblical truth. Those who train preachers today are realizing that facility with language not only finds roots in the principles of classical rhetoric but also prognosticates a capacity to persuade effectively. Having access to the rhetorical logos, i.e. the reasoned word, enables oratorical excellence available as never before since the Incarnation. Yet discovering truth does not assure that one can communicate it, just as merely owning a computer does not assure that one can use it effectively.
Experimental Approaches
To explain this dearth of pulpit power is to provoke controversy, especially among homilists. Analyses are myriad without consensus, as are experimental techniques.
On the one hand, there are those who view the sermon as a form of holy entertainment. "The least I can do," said one pastor, "is not to bore people." So these preachers snap a microphone to their lapels and pace back and forth like nervous sheep dogs. Some wear white suits and some have opted for casual attire sans coat and tie. It is the informal style in both looks and words which conceives of sermons as friendly conversations with the man on the street. But alas, as the Englishman A.G. Moore said, "It is a priest`s duty to feed the sheep rather than amuse the goats."[7] And as John Milton lamented, "The hungry sheep look up and are not fed."[8]
Then there is the teaching approach. Without a doubt, a sermon should instruct with biblical truth. Nothing is more indefensible than poor content in a sermon. So the congregation receives outlines with the "worship guide," or perhaps on a screen dangling over the choir. Subsequently, the people are commanded to write down certain words and phrases. At least this approach addresses the problem of a congregation conditioned to audio-visual communication. With children the method doubtless succeeds somewhat and will even possibly remedy some of the biblical illiteracy among adults. Another Barna survey shows that laity are abysmally ignorant of the basics of the Bible. Most of them cannot name half of the Ten Commandments, nor do they know that it was Jesus who preached the Sermon on the Mount.[9] Surely the teaching approach is not without merit, for any transmission of thought or feeling in a sermon still depends largely on words. So what is the real problem?
The Place of Passion
If hearers are to be energized to experience any significant maturing, the speaker will involve not only the mind but also the emotions of the hearers. The element of passion engages the hearer in the depth of his/her finest being. Rightly used, it penetrates the soul of both speaker and hearer with supernatural power. It persuades, it moves, it transforms, it endures!
Unfortunately, the mere mention of impassioned preaching suggests a scene of manipulation and mindless hoopla, such as is observed in many television personalities. The fear of emotional affectation has so tyrannized conscientious preachers that sermons have become commonplace, or at best, amusing. The cold sermon of mere fact, albeit sacred truth, may account in part for the popularity of emotion-charged "religious" rock music in worship services. Emotion will not be ignored! It is one fundamental element in our spiritual being.
But neither prosaic sermons nor hot music speaks to those who have walked the briny path of a disappointing marriage, a lost job, a cancer diagnosis, a son off to Kosovo, or an addicted child. Robert Schuller says that the most important principle that he learned in seminary was, "Speak to broken hearts." The preacher who isolates himself from his people and refuses to walk with them in their sorrows or their joys cannot identify with their feelings. The late Kenneth Burke, a foremost twentieth century rhetorician, proposes "identification" as a hallmark of persuasion. It involves knowing the mind and feeling the feelings of those whom one wishes to influence
Those who would drain emotion from preaching today betray themselves as shamelessly unmoved by the ghastly bombardments of violence flashed before public eyes in the news media, not to mention movies, novels, and television spectacles. A people so conditioned, even hardened, will not be moved by pretty or cute sermons divorced from concrete reality. Jonathan Edwards, John Donne, Lancelot Andrewes, and others have been castigated for their vivid sermons on hell. History has distorted their images by largely ignoring their sermons on love and forgiveness. Yet they lived in times of brutal war, public executions, and grisly martyrdom. Those rugged times had possibly calloused their hearers to the extent that a lesser approach would have instigated no persuasion at all. The fires of hell had to burn at their feet if they were to respond. Even Jesus did not minimize the fire of hell when he spoke of the rich man`s anguish in the flame.
Of course, emotion as a tool of persuasion is not confined to fear of hell. Yet if people were confronted more realistically in the pulpit with the horrible consequences of drugs, alcohol, tobacco, and foolishly illicit sex, their behavior might alter more positively. Or if youth could face realistically the joys of a pure marriage, a sterling character with self-respect, a habit of honesty and responsibility, and a loving Savior who offers them purpose in an abundant life, they might find the Christian life more imperative. Jesus used poignant parables to illustrate virtuous behavior, such as the Prodigal Son, and the Lost Sheep. "He spoke with compassion." The Apostle Paul summarized it well when he wrote, "though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am sounding brass and tinkling symbol."
Thus the use of heart appeal is as old as preaching itself. In every era when memorable sermons flourish, dynamic preachers implement passionate persuasion. Richard Weaver observes that "man is not a depersonalized thinking machine. His feeling is the activity in him most closely related to what used to be called the soul. To appeal to his feeling therefore is not necessarily an insult; it can be a way to honor him, by recognizing him in the fullness of his being."[10]
Ethical Persuasion
Ethical treatment of emotion distinguishes between exploitative manipulation and legitimate persuasion. The Apostle Paul warned against the "meaningless talk" of sophists in 1 Timothy 1:6. Sophistry relies on manipulation through exaggeration and distortion of fact, and it appeals to personal gain through spectacular promises; it encourages imagination over reality; it over-magnifies fear, sentimentality, anger, and false optimism. The Jonestown Massacre affords one of the most extreme examples of manipulation. Words did not coincide with reality, and tragedy resulted. Irresponsible use of passion is like fire in the hands of an arsonist.
Although the Apostle Paul disdained corrupt sophistry, he used legitimate classical rhetoric when he made his appeal before King Agrippa. He established goodwill with a sincere compliment, addressing the King with his title. He further established his own credibility by noting his Jewish heritage and the authenticity of his hope. And his enthusiasm was so electrifying that he was accused of madness.
An ethical passion energizes words and stimulates images that actualize reality, that make abstract truth concrete and thus motivate healthy moral response. The ethicist does not take advantage of the hearers` senses by distortion and histrionics, but neither are the senses ignored. Making the delicate choice of passionate words is precisely the juncture where the speaker`s integrity must prevail.
Even the ancient classicists recognized the speaker`s good moral character (ethos) as requisite to persuasion. By "good" was meant honesty, common sense, and goodwill. Aristotle also included purity, specifically sexual purity. On the human level, to be credible, a speaker must be respectable both morally and intellectually.
The above qualities, along with the more specific ones mentioned in 1 Timothy 1:5, "love which comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith," provide a hospitable atmosphere for the Holy Spirit to operate. For indeed, the Spirit offers the essential dynamic of divine supplement to human ethos and pathos that gives persuasiveness to words. A studied language skill does not impede divine power, but rather releases it.
As has been stated, truth alone does not always persuade. If it did, the world might have been Christianized long ago with the mere reading of the Holy Scriptures. Preachers could be mere pulpit disc jockeys playing God`s records. The divine Spirit of the Godhead functions as the ultimate Healer of men`s bodies, yet few theologians reject medical assistance as mere human artifice in treating physical disease.
The pulpit bears inescapable responsibility to look seriously at its weaknesses and to implement techniques for revived influence. The expertise can be acquired, but it is not mere mechanical contrivance nor holy magic. True, John Bunyan and D.L. Moody are cited as uneducated heroes with obvious power to move people. To be sure, God endowed them despite their deficiencies. Some people who have never studied music are gifted at playing the piano, but who knows how much more skillfully they could have played were they formally trained?
A healthy, impassioned persuasion not only differentiates the sermon from other genres but also makes considerable difference in a sermon`s effectiveness. As Mark Twain said, it is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug. Given an awareness of this potential for sacred oratory, the scholars of the pulpit will cultivate their competency beyond the "era of the average" and master the art of ethical impassioned persuasion.
Endnotes
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[1] Time, 31 December 1979: 54-67.
[2] Fred Buechner, quoted by Bruce Buursma, "Sermons Turning Off Church Flocks," Dallas Times Herald, 31 May 8, 1983:8.
[3] Burghardt, Dallas Times Herald, 8.
[4] Donald McLeod, Christian Century, 95 (Feb. 1-8), 1978: 98.
[5] George Barna, Today`s Pastors (Ventura, CA: Regal Books, 1993), 51-71.
[6] The Prose Works of John Milton, vol. 1 (London, 1806), xi-xii.
[7] A.G. Moore in Charles L. Morgan, Reflections in a Mirror, Second Series (Toronto: Macmillan, 1947), I.
[8] John Milton, "Lycidas," in Complete Poems and Major Prose ed. Merritt Y. Hughes (New York: Odyssey Press, 1957), 123.
[9] Barna, 48.
[10] Richard Weaver, Language is Sermonic (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University, 1970), 224.
[1] Time, 31 December 1979: 54-67.
[2] Fred Buechner, quoted by Bruce Buursma, "Sermons Turning Off Church Flocks," Dallas Times Herald, 31 May 8, 1983:8.
[3] Burghardt, Dallas Times Herald, 8.
[4] Donald McLeod, Christian Century, 95 (Feb. 1-8), 1978: 98.
[5] George Barna, Today`s Pastors (Ventura, CA: Regal Books, 1993), 51-71.
[6] The Prose Works of John Milton, vol. 1 (London, 1806), xi-xii.
[7] A.G. Moore in Charles L. Morgan, Reflections in a Mirror, Second Series (Toronto: Macmillan, 1947), I.
[8] John Milton, "Lycidas," in Complete Poems and Major Prose ed. Merritt Y. Hughes (New York: Odyssey Press, 1957), 123.
[9] Barna, 48.
[10] Richard Weaver, Language is Sermonic (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University, 1970), 224.
