Common Preaching Weaknesses in Our Family of Churches (And How to Change)

Originally titled, “Identifying Our Weaknesses”: a message delivered in two parts on February 13 and 14, 2008 at the Sovereign Grace Pastors College Preaching Conference.

I want to begin with a familiar text that is only indirectly related to the way in which we are going, but also an appropriate reminder.

Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. (1 Timothy 4:12-13)

Here in this inspiring letter Paul is addressing his trusted coworker Timothy, instructing him and encouraging him, aware of the threats to Paul’s Aegean mission. False teaching is spreading. There are signs of a counter-mission. Apparently some former church leaders are teaching false doctrine.

One fascinating thing about 1 Timothy, and the Pastoral Epistles in general, is Paul’s change of strategy. Earlier in his ministry he has been writing letters to churches, but in the second part of his ministry he starts writing letters to individuals. And so we have these precious things called Pastoral Epistles.

In light of the false teaching, in light of the heresy clearly at the forefront of Paul’s concern, Paul unveils his primary weapon in battling heresy—the establishment and definition of biblical leadership.

How do you battle heresy that threatens to destroy the church and hinder its mission? You define, establish, train, encourage, and guard biblical leadership. That is what Paul does in the Pastoral Epistles.

And so in this section of 1 Timothy we gain profound insight into the kind of leadership that will vanquish error and establish the truth. And so Paul’s letter—after addressing things on the corporate level for a few chapters—turns to Timothy personally. Paul pulls Timothy aside in his own little Pastors College moment to emphasize what should characterize a faithful pastor.

Paul writes, “Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching.” One imperative, governing three activities. Devote yourself to three activities.

Interestingly, Paul doesn’t just give a job description. He doesn’t just list responsibilities. But he calls for something. He calls for an intensity of devotion to something, an intensity of devotion to the task. And what is the task? Three things: to the reading of sacred Scripture (exposing people to the voice of God in the Scripture), to exhortation (calling people to respond by pressing its claims upon people) and to teaching (the exposition of Scripture’s meaning through clear and patient instruction).

These are the tasks we are exploring in this conference.

Moving from Heart to Process and Product

Now we move from heart issues (in earlier chapters) to process and product. We start examining the actual process of preaching and the product of preaching the sermon. And the place we begin this morning is assessment. We want to examine where we are in Sovereign Grace relative to the public proclamation of God’s word.

Later we will get into the actual process of preparation, but now I want to lay the backdrop by establishing some areas where I think we can all grow. Some of these I think are characteristic of Sovereign Grace in general, not necessarily every person. We have different strengths and not all of us have the same tendencies as others. But I do think there are common weaknesses. And so my hope is to encourage our growth in these areas, to create some discernment, and to suggest some specific categories for growth.

I think addressing our weaknesses is important and will help set a trajectory for where we want to go as we consider the preaching task, specifically within the churches of Sovereign Grace Ministries.

Seven Categories for Growth in Sovereign Grace Preaching

Please know I include myself in all of these. I am not sitting back, identifying these categories in sort of a dispassionate separation. I see myself in all of these things.

1. Introductory Inefficiency

The beginning of your sermon has importance disproportionate to its length. And one of the things I have observed in those opening moments is introductory inefficiency.

Now this inefficiency manifests itself in a number of specific ways.

Undisciplined informality

Compared to other traditions we are more informal in atmosphere. We are non-liturgical. We lack some formal aspects of other worship traditions and denominations. We don’t have a specific call to worship (although we have our own little thing that functions like that). When you enter a meeting, the environment tends to be more celebratory than somber. You have been in churches where you walk in and there is a hushed silence where people just sit down and begin praying. That’s great. We’re just different.

Now, this is not at all to critique our informality, it’s just to recognize that our informality leaves us vulnerable to an undisciplined informality. And this can manifest itself in a number of ways.

Wordiness

Undisciplined informality can manifest itself in wordiness. We have not thought through what we are going to say. We are much more prone to stand up and engage in a conversation and be inspired by the moment, without having thought through exactly where we are going to go. That can occur at the beginning of our messages. Instead of purposefully entering our message, we sort of wander into our message.

And I am certainly not arguing for an artificial formality. That would obviously not fit in our context. But I am commending intentionality and discipline and planning. Important things are happening at the beginning of your sermon, more than you may be aware of.

How you enter the preaching moment sets the emotional tone. If you come into the pulpit and you’re chitchatting, adding an announcement that you forgot a moment ago, directing an usher, moving around your lectern, joking with the guy in the front row because of his sweater, you are obscuring the importance of the preaching moment. You are sending a message that, “OK, this is just the next thing we do.”

Preaching is not just the next thing we do! Preaching is the primary thing we come to do. Sitting under the word of God, hearing the voice of God, being addressed by the Sovereign God of the universe, and responding to him in worship and obedience and praise and adoration—that’s why we gather.

Again, this does not rest upon a formal environment, but one where people realize we are turning our attention to God and his word. We are about to be addressed by God. We need to help people realize this is a significant, eternal moment.

If it is true what Paul says in 2 Corinthians 2:16, that we are an aroma in our preaching—some an aroma to death, some an aroma to life—eternal things are happening in preaching. We want people to know that. We don’t want people content to kind of wander the halls working their way into the auditorium. No. There are important things happening in that room. There are eternal things happening in that room. We don’t want to obscure that by wandering into our sermon. People need to recognize preaching as relevant and significant—a meeting between them and God.

Long Introductions

I would add here the issue of long introductions. If you want to find a place to cut your messages, your introduction is the first place to look. Wordiness here can rob your effectiveness. So if you have an introduction that involves a story in your past, you want that to be conversational. However, you don’t want to just wander on and on in that introduction. You want to do the hard work in your study of preparing and crafting and familiarizing yourself, so that in that moment you can build relational bridges as you connect with people and be disciplined in what you cover. So be careful about those opening moments of your sermon. It’s here we can waste the most time.

And it’s not only an issue of time, but if we just wander on and on and something else occurs to us during the opening story, we go down some other rabbit trails. By doing this we are teaching people that what we have to say is unimportant. We are training our people not to pay attention. We are training our people to expect distractions. And most significantly, we are introducing distractions to them.

We need to think of our introductions in terms of function. We are not artificially putting a story in front of our sermons because communication theory tells us to. No. Introductions have a function. Introductions grab our hand and lead us to the main thing we seek to communicate. If the introduction doesn’t lead to the main point, then the introduction distracts from the main point.

I will never forget my first sermon at seminary. I worked hard on this introduction and I think it was pretty good, actually. We had 30 minutes to preach the sermon. Mike Bullmore was my teacher and he made this observation. He said it was a good introduction. It was appropriate. It was right. But the message was too long. He taught me to be aware of a lengthy introduction that assumes a massive place in the structure of the sermon that it doesn’t warrant. That is exactly what we can do.

It may be a great introduction, but what is the point of the text? What is God trying to get done?

I don’t want to minimize the potential of an effective introduction, just caution that we don’t let our informality lead us to inefficiency.

So if you have a story, think it through. What issues do you want to bring up? What details do you want to add? And then craft it. Cut it. Make it succinct. Use only those details that will most accomplish the purpose of an introduction, which is to draw people’s attention and eventually lead them to the burden of your text.

It’s easy to lose credibility in the first five minutes of your message. Have you ever experienced that? I am not necessarily talking about a sermon. It could be a sermon. It could be a preacher. Or it could be someone you are listening to on C-Span. After 30-seconds you think, “This guy is a fool.” You don’t want to lose your credibility in those opening moments by wandering aimlessly or by indulging yourself with details that entertain but don’t enhance the function of your introduction.

Unnecessary review

We often feel an obligation or desire to review last week’s message, so we spend 15 minutes reminding everyone of what we said. And we burn minutes on unnecessary review, retracing our steps and re-preaching last week’s message. Don’t do that. Don’t detract with “last week.” There is a present purpose in this sermon. This is a present moment of urgency because the word of God is being proclaimed. Let’s not drain the present moment of significance by retracing the steps of last week’s moment of significance. Don’t draw attention to what you are not going to preach. Draw people’s attention to what you are going to preach.

That’s not to say that review is unacceptable or unnecessary. We must be purposeful. The rule of thumb would be this: Review previous material to the extent it makes the present material clear and understandable. What does it take to get people to understand this text as quickly and succinctly as possible? If I need to review something to make this clear, then I will do it. If I don’t, there is no need for review.

Double introductions

“Double introductions” are another common phenomenon. This is more a matter of poor structure than anything else. Basically, this is a mistake of separating the introduction from the presentation of the sermon’s main idea—be it the proposition or perhaps the truth category. Maybe it is an inductive message, so you are introducing a category that your text will fill out or answer. However, when framing the text’s main thrust at the beginning part of your message, you don’t want to unduly separate that introduction from the presentation of the text’s main point. Often that happens with background material.

Here is an example of what I mean. A preacher will tell a story or maybe read an excerpt from an article and arrive at a particular point. Maybe it’s about Ernest Shackleton. So you are talking about Shackleton, and this vivid story of courage in the face of danger and how he kept up his men’s spirits and kept their vision on the coming promised rescue. And you come up and you reach this point:” Shackleton demonstrated unbending courage in the face of overwhelming odds. At times we face circumstances that seem overwhelming and God wants us to have similar courage.”

That’s kind of a nice introduction. You are building momentum. You have made a connection. And then you read the text and launch into a second explanation:

So here Peter is writing to Christians and they are spread throughout Asia Minor and he mentions a number of regions here, probably provinces. These are probably political distinctions. And they are in a circular arrangement because most likely there is a courier taking this letter from one place to another and these probably would have been mixed churches. It used to be thought that they were mixed, but now we probably think maybe they were Jewish roots, but mainly Gentile congregations, I think. And Peter is writing to these people who are facing persecution. But it wasn’t, you know, legal persecution. It used to be thought that it was either Nero or Domitian, but now we know that those weren’t official throughout the empire, but nonetheless it was true persecution, maybe sporadic persecution, circumstantial persecution. But there was suffering. And so Peter encourages them to stand fast in the face of suffering. We, too, suffer as Christians. And here is what I think this text was meant to communicate: Stand firm in the face of suffering.

Now where is Shackleton? You left him in Antarctica. But you see the problem—there are two introductions. You have the first introduction, and you start to suggest what this text might say—and then you go to the text, and you give a historical introduction, and then you arrive at your proposition, and you might as well exclude your first introduction. It didn’t function, it only distracted, and it only took up time.

Have you ever done that?

It is that background information you have to think through. Craft it. Hone it. Choose it. Be selective. And then say, “Where is it going to function?” If I am going to have an introduction that gains attention, then I don’t want to separate the introduction from the thrust of my text.

I see this same thing with doctrinal content. There is an introduction, maybe a great story about your childhood and about how you always struggled with knowing you were accepted by God. And you say, “In college I had this life-changing moment when I realized the basis upon which God accepted me.” Then you have your people turn to Romans 3, read the text, and pray. Then comes the second introduction, “But before we get into this text it is important to understand the difference between justification and sanctification. Actually the ordo salutis begins before that in eternity past through God’s merciful, sovereign choice of election and then there is the miracle of regeneration which leads to eternal.”

You get my point. It’s easy to start loading content, copying-and-pasting from what I read last night in Grudem, adding it into my message, my childhood, and my struggles with assurance.

For an introduction to function well, it must be tied to the claim of the text. Don’t separate these. You will waste time. You will squander the potential of your introduction and you will drain your sermon of momentum. You don’t want to take the air out of your sermon; you want to be building the air. It is like inflating a tire. You pump. You pump. You pump. The tire expands and gets fuller and feller. You don’t want to stop in the middle and let the air out. Throughout the entire sermon, you want to be building and maintaining a forward motion.

So guard the early moments. Get to your text as soon as you can. Get to the thrust of the message as soon as you can.

2. Information Overload

In our sincere and rightful desire to be faithful, we can misconstrue the preaching task as primarily or exclusively one of data transfer. Obviously, there is content to be shared, explanation to be done, truth to be communicated, teaching to be accomplished. However, the goal of preaching is not informational, it’s transformational. Your goal is not downloading data to your people, but exposing them to the text so the text can transform their lives.

A sermon is not just a man describing God, or describing salvation, or describing the gospel. God’s word is not intended simply to inform. It’s meant to have a functional, transformative effect on our lives.

Preaching identifies the transformative intent of the text and it brings that to bear upon people so—by the Spirit—the word can do a work in their lives. Guard against the tendency to download what you read in that commentary or the sermon CD you just heard.

The temptation here is with biblical background information. Have you ever found background information fascinating? Yes. That is one reason you are a preacher. Most people don’t. Or their fascination is circumscribed by their immediate situation. I am interested as long as this is going to help. We have been immersed in this stuff all week. Our listeners have not. So in our presentation of material (be it background, context, or exegetical detail) we must be selective.

Your sermon has a purpose

Your sermon has a purpose. It is not to explore the ancient Near East or to deliver an exegetical paper. It is to enable this text to have its intended effect upon the people of God.

Your people have limitations

Your people have limitations. They do not have the capacity to take in through their ears all that you have processed through hours of reading. They do not have the time to process the information that you do. They do not have the background knowledge that makes some of that information more intelligible. They don’t have the vested interest you have. You are preaching, they are not. So you must be selective, which can be difficult when you are engaged with the material.

Now, your in-depth study is not a waste of time. Though much is left on the cutting room floor, it does something in you. It seasons your interpretation, fills out your perspective, directs, and shapes you. It is not to say that the work is not important, but the selectivity is critical.

Incorporate the material that is essential to giving your exposition clarity and credibility. In Scripture there is some assumed information. Just like you got up and read the paper this morning and the writer speaks about the “Potomac Primaries.” The writer does not say, “Barack Obama sailed to another victory in the Potomac primaries yesterday. Let me tell you what the Potomac River is. ... And let me explain what a primary is.” The writer assumes all this stuff.

Well, the same thing is happening between the original author and the original audience. Certain assumptions exist in Scripture. We need to fill in those gaps, so that people can understand what the text says.

You want to give the exposition clarity and credibility. If you are making a point that is not clear or that could elicit objections or questions, you are obligated to give reasons for your exposition. So be aware of that. Present this information succinctly, eliminating unnecessary detail and naturally allowing it to inform your exposition.

3. Structural Complexity

The more I preach, the more I gravitate towards simple structures. The simpler, the better. So avoid multiple layers in your sermon. If you drop down to point two, letter b, subpoint number three, you are in too deep. You may not come out. Or you will come out and those you led in may not make it out with you.

Simple structures are best. If you are dropping down into that kind of detail, the chances are high that you have drifted too far from the intended thrust of the text. You are probably emphasizing a point in this text which—at the level at which you are preaching it— should not be emphasized. It doesn’t mean it is unimportant. But, again, when we preach God’s word, when we preach a text of Scripture, we are not doing thorough exegetical treatments. We could never do a thorough exegetical treatment in 40 minutes. So chances are if you are getting that deep you have left something behind or you are, perhaps, adding something artificially. So simplify structures.

My first homiletics professor told me something I have never forgotten. He said to me, “Preach close to the mains (main points). If they are your mains, let them be your mains. If they are the main points, don’t obscure them by 40 other points, all of which are vying for main-ness. Preach close to your mains.”

Not only is this an issue of clear communication, but also of expositional integrity and communicating the thrust of that text.

Texts have structure because of certain created realities. There are certain created realities built into the way God constructed human consciousness—logic, coherence, reason, rationality, and development. Scripture is not like certain ancient Near Eastern magical texts that wander from one truth claim to another truth claim to another truth claim. No. Scripture proceeds in logical, rational development because it doesn’t violate these created realities. And we don’t want our sermons to violate those created realities either.

I’m reminded of something John Stott memorably put it in his classic preaching text, Between Two Worlds,

The golden rule for sermon outlines is that each text must be allowed to supply its own structure. The skillful expositor opens up his text, or rather permits it to open itself up before our eyes, like a rose unfolding to the morning sun and displaying its previously hidden beauty.

So let texts supply the structure, and keep it simple.

4. Lack of Unity

This is a common weakness, not just for Sovereign Grace, but for anyone who preaches.

Unity is an absolute requirement in preaching and if your sermon does not have it, its absence will be obvious. People know it. They may not know that it was a poor outline, but they will know something was wrong with it. When you are preaching you don’t want to see a lot of furrowed brows. You want wide-eyed expressions that are saying to you, “Ah, yes!”

Identify the intended purpose

Nothing is more important in your sermon preparation than identifying the text’s purpose. Scripture is not just data, it’s not just information, it’s not just a history book. One of the great texts of Scripture on Scripture is 2 Timothy 3:16:

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.

Scripture works, it gets specific things done—teaching, reproof, correction, training in righteousness. Scripture has an intended purpose, therefore, your sermon must have an intended purpose.

I remember a student approached me about a sermon he was going to preach on friendship with God. “Can you help me out? I’ll be preaching at a church and I want to talk about friendship with God. So do you have any thoughts about that?”

I said, “Well, I have no idea. What are you going to say about friendship with God? Are you encouraging believers that they can have—through the finished work of Christ—a relationship with God and they can be like Abraham, “friends of God,” which, against the ancient Near Eastern background, is incomprehensible? Or is it a message on obedience? In John 15 Jesus says, “You are my friends if you do what I say.” So maybe it is a message on obedience? Maybe it is an evangelistic message where you are going to speak about the state of all people before God? Don’t buddy up to God because Scripture says we are enemies of God. We are at enmity with God, the wrath of God abides, but because of the work of Christ enemies can be reconciled. This war can be transformed and blossom into the sweetest fellowship. So I have no idea how to help you until you tell me what you want to say about friendship with God.”

We don’t simply start with a topic but an intended purpose.

In Colossians 1:28 Paul has this intriguing statement about his ministry—“Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ.” Scripture is God’s chisel. It’s his completing instrument. Texts of Scripture come to us, shape us, form us, cut off rough edges, and transform us until— week after week after week and year after year—it matures us into fully-orbed Christians.

So every time you preach, you are bringing a text to bear upon people’s lives in this process of forming, shaping, completing, and perfecting.

Intended Redemptive Effect (IRE)

Every preacher must find in their text the Intended Redemptive Effect (IRE). You need to be asking: What is the functional, transformative effect this text is intended to have in the believer’s life individually or the church’s life corporately? I have no idea where I am going in a sermon until I identify the IRE. So what is the text attempting to do about unbelief or this fallen condition? Is it informing the condition? Is it rebuking the condition? When this sermon is over and the Holy Spirit has applied it to people’s hearts, how are they different?

I cannot start my preparation until I know the IRE. But once I know this I’m well on my way. It does everything for me. It determines the purpose of my sermon, drives the proposition of my sermon, and is where the proposition originates. The IRE will help guarantee the unity of my sermon, and it will set the trajectory of application.

If a text is calling me to forsake unbelief and trust in the promises of God, application is within view. In fact, I’m already at application.

Once you have identified the IRE, then let it function. Let it govern your message. Let it govern your structure. Let it govern the thrust of your application. Your main points are not separate ideas, not some new fresh ideas untethered to your proposition, not burdens you bring, not fresh ideas you have. No. Main points unpack, expound, undergird, support, and press forward this main idea of your sermon. That is how you obtain unity—identify the purpose and then allow that purpose to function.

Weak arguments

Our sermons should explain the text to make it clear, illustrate to make it vivid, apply to make it practical. But our sermons are progressing and unfolding as we move from point to point. This unfolding contributes to a growing sense of clarity and conviction.

I mentioned this earlier with the inner tube illustration, but one of the keys to effectiveness in a sermon is maintaining the building momentum, attaining an increasing weight of the accumulated argument as it builds and moves forward. Great sermons exhibit this. As they proceed they expand and the effect deepens as it progresses. And people arrive at the end of a sermon with a fullness of understanding, thoroughly grasping the meaning with their soul, penetrated by its truth, and postured to respond. That is what we want to attain in a sermon.

So as you develop sermons, think: Does this cohere? Is the argument sound? Is there clarity in the development of the idea? The answers are critical to the unity of the sermon.

5. Incisiveness of Application

I am not concerned that we are not giving attention to application. The way C.J. has led us we have a historical strength of application. But application is not easy and we all have room to grow.

Dualistic fallacy

Part of what hinders our application is a flaw in our thinking, what I have called dualistic fallacy. We can think that a sermon is information plus application. And so we tend to think of application as separate from the text itself.

Tell me if you have ever heard a sermon like this or preached a sermon like this. You talk and you talk and there are about five minutes left. Then the preacher says, “Now for some application.” Have you ever done that? Sure. Last Sunday.

To be quick to say there is a concluding summons for a response is appropriate. It can be a very effective time to refocus the applicatory channels that you have been exploring. Or maybe if it’s an inductive message that tells the story of Christ and unfolds his glory, his person, his claims, his authority, and his trustworthiness—then it’s appropriate to have application at the end following the isolation of the truth of that text. That is fine.

But we shouldn’t think of application exclusively as, “What I do at the end.” We sort of pin the tail of application onto the sermon of information. Application is not an appendage to your sermon. It is not something you attach. Application starts the moment you open your mouth.

If you have identified your IRE and your prop captures the IRE, you are applying already. The entire sermon is about responding to the truth of God. The entire sermon presses for application. A sermon that doesn’t press for application is not a sermon. It may be a great explanation. It may be a wonderful exegetical treatise. It’s not a sermon.

Once you have identified the IRE, it sets the trajectory for your application. You’re already suggesting the application. Then the task becomes helping people identify concrete ways that this effect can find expression in their lives—in their obedience, thinking, practice, relating, praying.

Mistaking exhortation for application

Exhortation is necessary, and exhortation can be powerful, but exhortation is not application. But I think that when we exhort and press the claims of Scripture on our people we somehow feel like, “Good, I’m done. I’ve done application.” Exhortation is not application. Exhortation is good, important, and necessary. First Timothy 4:13 tells us to “exhort.” But that is not application. To urge people to respond is different from helping them see what a response might look like.

Circumstance vs. the heart

We make sermons applicable to different seasons of life. And that is exactly right. We should do that. We need to make it a point in our sermons to address different people—mothers of young children, singles, married couples, children. You should be thinking about those people in your congregation as you are preparing.

But be careful that you are not gravitating only towards your own season of life. Recently I realized that many of my illustrations have to do with my boys and my parenting. And that’s good. I want to include those. But if my application is all driven by my little season of life, I’m not addressing other people.

But the key is not only about addressing all people in all circumstances (although that’s a good practice). But let me suggest another category—not only “season of life,” but “stance of heart.” What condition are the hearts of my people and how does this text affect these different conditions of the heart?

So don’t only think mothers of young children, but think of those feeling the weight of being overwhelmed and those tempted to discouragement. These are conditions that can apply to all seasons of life. We all face those temptations.

The preacher can address all those seasons of life though heart stances. And this will add variety to our application. One thing I have noticed is that at the end of our sermons we can fall into this grid in application. Towards the end of the sermon we address mothers with young children, singles, parents. OK, next sermon we address mothers of young children, singles, parents. Next sermon we do the same thing. You know what I mean? I’ve done it.

Let’s go deeper and think heart stances.

Hanging questions

We use questions in our application. It is a very effective way to provoke reflection. Questions open up categories. But sometimes we think that because we have asked questions that we’ve helped people apply. No, maybe we just helped condemn them.

What you want to do is not only ask questions, but then suggest both wrong and right answers. For instance, we can ask, “Does your life reflect the importance of God’s word?” Now, 99.9 percent of our people will say “No,” right? It’s not enough just to ask the question and leave it hanging. Anyone can ask the question.

But you want to suggest some negative answers. Say, “Maybe you just feel overwhelmed and you feel it’s impossible to get to God’s word. Maybe you are distracted by other things in life.” By suggesting some wrong answers you begin relating to people and begin helping them process the question.

And then on the positive side show them what a biblical response looks like. Show them what God’s grace wants to do in that area. So suggest ways God’s grace wants to change the area that they have just become guilty over.

You may tell your people, “So do you find yourself distracted from God’s word? It doesn’t have to be that way. God is after something. This isn’t just a call to get disciplined. No. God’s Spirit wants to open your eyes to the beauty of God’s word. He wants you to be transformed in your perspective on God’s word. When that happens, God’s word assumes its right place in life. That is what God wants to do in our lives.”

See, now you are creating hope and suggesting what God’s grace wants to do.

Allow questions to lead people to the grace that God promises to provide for a biblical response.

Lingering responsibility vs. motivating grace

Because we emphasize application (and rightly so) we can conclude our messages accenting responsibility at the expense of grace. Never leave people at the end of your message more aware of what they must do than what Christ has done and what Christ promises to do.

I think about this when I prepare. When my people leave, what thought should animate their mind? I want to make sure that (depending on the text) what Christ has done, and what he promises to do, animates their mind. This is not to blunt conviction. This is not to withhold a summons to respond. We are to wrap that summons, wrap that conviction, in the promises of grace. I don’t want people to leave saying, “What a wretch.” I want them to leave saying, “What a Savior, what a promise, what a hope!” That is Christ-centered preaching. Christ-centered preaching is not simply making mention of the gospel or the cross. Christ-centered preaching is laying people at the feet of the Savior.

I don’t want to say to my people, “All right. Here is your week. God’s word has addressed you. It has convicted you. Now I am laying you at the feet of your responsibility. Go and be blessed.” No. I want to lay them at the feet of the Savior. I want to lay them in his arms, trusting and resting in him.

John Calvin in The Institutes used that great image of leaning into Christ. I want people leaving leaning into Christ—leaning, resting, hoping, and trusting in him. That is where we want to deliver people at the end of our messages. We don’t want them burdened with responsibility, we want them smitten with grace.

6. Truth-Driven Passion

What do we mean by truth-driven passion? Here I am talking about appropriately embodying the intended emotional force of the text. So here we are touching upon the incarnational aspect of preaching.

Preaching is incarnational, meaning it calls for the presence of human personality. This sets preaching apart from other modes of communication. This sets preaching apart from personal Bible reading. That is why we don’t just hand out Bibles and read from Scripture on a Sunday morning. Why not? Because there is more going on in the preaching moment than just a delivery of information (as we have emphasized a number of times).

One of the things that enters here is biblical anthropology. We are people created in the image of God. We were created to know God, created to reflect God, and endowed with certain characteristics from God. And so we are created to know him.

In the ancient Near East a king would set up huge statues of himself in distant providences which represented his presence and authority. In the same way God has set up an image of himself. And that is man. And this impacts the way God communicates as he speaks through divinely appointed messengers. Ever since man was ejected from the garden, God has communicated to his people by mediating his word through someone. Even the Scriptures were mediated from God through someone.

God didn’t just deliver the Israelites. God could have just wiped out the Egyptians and delivered Israel. No. He sent a messenger to reveal God to them. “Tell him I AM has sent you.” And then after delivering them, he appointed this messenger to not only give them his law, but then to interpret that law. So Deuteronomy is basically comprised of three sermons of Moses explicating this law. And then, of course, throughout the rest of the Old Testament we read the prophets. The most accurate definition of a prophet is one who speaks God’s words. “I will put my words in his mouth” (Deuteronomy 18:18).

The ultimate revelation, of course, is through the person of God’s Son, Jesus Christ. He is a particular kind of revelation, a different kind of revelation—not just one prophet through a line of other prophets, but a qualitatively different revelation (Hebrews 1:1-2). The apostles stand in that same succession. Now preachers stand in that same succession.

Listen to this quote from a classic essay on preaching by J.I. Packer in The Preacher and Preaching. Packer writes,

God’s standard way of securing and maintaining His person-to-person communication with us, His human creatures, is through the agency of persons whom He sends to us as His messengers. ... Such were the prophets and apostles, and such supremely was Jesus Christ, the incarnate Son. ... That is the succession in which preachers today are called to stand.

It’s sobering that this is the succession in which preachers today are called to stand. The moment of preaching is not simply one in which you—by virtue of your job or by virtue of the nameplate on your office door—get to stand up and share some thoughts. No. You are not sharing thoughts. You are not Jay Leno. You are not a talking head. You are standing in the very stead of God.

Oh, that is a frightening thing.

It’s not only a divine message you are bringing. But you are meant to be a suitable vessel for that message, embodying its truth, exemplifying an appropriate response to its claims, impassioned by the weight of the message and the urgency of the moment.

Think about the kind of messengers you see in Scripture. You hear Jeremiah with fire in his bones. Ezra speaks in such a way that people weep.

So that’s the calling we have. We bring a divine message, and we bring it through a vessel affected by that truth. That’s one reason why character is so important for a pastor. You are an example. Look through the Pastoral Epistles. What you see stressed over and over there is, you are an example to the people. You are not a super Christian, you are an exemplary Christian. You are meant to be.

Packer said this also in that same essay, “Preaching mediates not only God’s authority, but also His presence and His power.” So preaching mediates the very presence of God. And that should humble us. It should sober us. Preaching doesn’t just disclose information, it discloses God. Without using this word in systematic theological categories, it is a moment of revelation (in a sense). In preaching, God’s presence is revealed.

Notetaking during preaching

That’s one reason why the preaching moment is so important, and why we don’t want people merely preoccupied with the doctrinal content. Content, yes, but not merely. We don’t want people so consumed with notetaking that they miss the presence of God being revealed.

People can think, “It doesn’t really matter what is happening right now. I just want to get everything written down so on Monday morning at Starbucks I can go over my notes.”

Notetaking is great. Praise God they are going over their notes in Starbucks. It is great they are continuing to apply. Please don’t misunderstand. However, I don’t want them merely thinking, “Just let me get every word down so later I can process it.” No. I want them engaging with God now because there is something that happens in the preaching moment that will not happen at Starbucks.

So that impinges upon, I think, the degree of notes that we use during our preaching. Outlines can be helpful for people. But, again, we should always be measuring those outlines. Are they distracting from the preaching moment? We want our people not only to hear, learn, and apply, we want them to encounter God in that moment. That’s what God promises to do. We can’t generate it. We can’t manufacture it. But God promises to do it.

Passionate preaching

Our preaching should be appropriately passionate. I am grateful for the most passionate preacher I know (C.J.) leading us in that. But it’s not about the mere emulation of a leader. Passion is a function of the theology of preaching, a function of our dependence upon God for the effect of preaching, a function of the necessary effect of God’s word upon an authentic messenger.

Given the variety of gifts, the variety of personalities, the variety of life experiences, passionate preaching is not as simple as the imitation of a style. If you imitate, you will not be authentic. It’s not going to work for you, so don’t try it.

Passion is not a function of style or volume. It should be a reflection of the intended effect of the text upon a human life and that will display the activity of God upon me. This authenticates the integrity of the messenger. If I am weeping over the cross, I am illustrating something. If my breath is taken away by God’s majesty, I am not acting. I want to be affected because this is an illustration for everyone else to follow. You are leading people into response.

We want to cultivate intense preaching, and there needs to be some volume. There needs to be some intensity, not because that is what preachers do, but because this is urgent. And so I would encourage you men to push yourselves not to think of yourself as a lecturer. Think of yourself as a preacher. And for some of us it requires pushing ourselves.

I will tell a guy who is a bit meek and gentle, “You need to step out a little bit. For you, it is going to feel like you are screaming your head off. It is going to feel like you are going nuts. But you know what it is going to feel like to us? ‘Oh, he is passionate.’” Sometimes you have to step out of yourself and feel uncomfortable, but I think it is going to sound about right.

And some people need to tone it down. I think there needs to be something—not artifice, not manufactured emotion—but something of a growing momentum in the way we are embodying the truth. If you start out intense in your introduction and carry that on, people will quit listening by point two.

I love what Dr. R.C. Sproul wrote:

Preaching calls forth an emotional response. It is not merely an exercise in the transfer of information. The pulpit is the setting for drama. The gospel itself is dramatic. We are not speaking of the sense of drama as a contrived performance or as a make-believe world of play-acting. We are speaking of dramatic truth, truth that shatters the soul, then brings healing and sends the human spirit soaring. It must grieve the Holy Ghost when His dramatic Word is recited dispassionately. The preaching doesn’t make the gospel dramatic—it already is. To communicate the gospel dramatically is to fit preaching with the content. Dispassionate preaching is a lie—it denies the content it conveys.

Different settings need to be factored in. Different personalities need to be factored in. But there is a danger in an attempt for relevance through natural communication. There is a danger in so elevating a natural, relational, ostensibly authentic mode of communication to the detriment of proclamation.

We are not communicators. We want to communicate, yes. We want to be winsome, yes. We want to relate and connect people relationally, absolutely. Nonetheless, we are proclaiming. We are not communicating, God is proclaiming.

7. Faithful Christ-Centeredness

Finally, and perhaps supremely, we can struggle with Christ-centeredness in our preaching. Ultimately, we must emulate Paul’s example, “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2). This was Paul’s aim for the 18 months he spent with the Corinthians. Of course this does not mean he was preaching only the atonement, but that Paul preached nothing apart from the atonement, nothing apart from the person and work of Christ and its implications. So we want to demonstrate how the text testifies to some dimension of Christ’s person and work, and how this is meant to affect a particular area of our lives.

All of Scripture is not about Jesus, but all of Scripture is about God and his redemptive acts which culminate in the person and work of Christ. Therefore, all our preaching should testify to some dimension of Christ’s person and work and demonstrate how this affects our lives. Every text in your Bible plays some role in the unfolding drama of redemption. Therefore, we must show how each text fits into that drama, and what role each text plays in the history of God’s redemption of his covenant people, which reaches its climax in the person and work of Christ.

This does not mean that we will see in every text a particular reference to Christ. But it does mean that we will see each text within the broader background and ultimate relevance in light of the person and work of Christ.

Redemptive-historical role

I think we tend towards just a temporal view. We sort of know how Scripture unfolds. We have read Graeme Goldsworthy. And so we ask: Where does this text fall in the timeline?

Now that is obviously part of it. I call this a redemptive-historical role. Some texts have a more pronounced redemptive-historical role, meaning their relevance to the person and work of Christ is most prominent in its contribution to the unfolding of the biblical storyline.

I just love knowing that—thanks to Jesus in Luke 24—I can look for these references to the redemptive-historical role.

With my older son I was reading the story of Leah and how she was rejected. Laban plays the trick on Jacob and she ends up his wife, rejected and unloved. But she has a baby and that baby’s name is Judah. God loved this woman. No one else did. Yet, this woman became the mom of a prince, the Prince of Peace.

We know King David is as an example, a type, a foreshadowing of another warrior, another one who would come and fight battles on behalf of God’s people. David stood in that valley when the other king wouldn’t. It is one of the most ridiculous things in Scripture, isn’t it? Saul stands back, “Who is going to fight?” You are supposed to fight. You are the king. Get down there. “Oh, no. You know what? I’ll give you my armor. Hey, take my armor, please.” It’s a ridiculous scene. The guy who is supposed to be down there is sending a boy. But a boy goes. And yet another Boy came and died for us.

See, through our preaching we can populate people’s Bibles with pointers to the Savior. In our sermons we can show how that is done. So there is that redemptive-historical role. But not every text immediately has an evident redemptive-historical role.

Redemptive-theological role

I’ve called the second role of the text a redemptive-theological role. Though many texts display both roles, here we are talking about a text displaying redemptive principles.

Bryan Chapell’s book, Christ-Centered Preaching, has a wonderful quote, “In its context every passage possesses one or more of four redemptive foci. Every text is predictive of the work of Christ, preparatory for the work of Christ, reflective of the work of Christ and/or resultant of the work of Christ.”

I remember when I first read that quote, I came out of my seat because it was just so illuminating. So be looking for redemptive principles that necessitate redemption. It could be an aspect of God’s character. It could be an aspect of man’s sin. It could be one of the three necessitating factors for the atonement—God’s holiness, man’s sin, and God’s mercy (Because with God’s holiness and man’s sin alone you don’t need the cross, you need hell.) And so those are the three raw materials of the atonement. Texts will often display one of those three. God’s holiness demands payment for sin. Man’s sin requires atonement. God’s mercy provides atonement. There are often fruitful connections which don’t mean you will read a text and identify God’s holiness and immediately go to the cross, but at some point the resolution of those things. There is a great resolution.

In most novels there is a point of resolution where it all just sort of comes together. And that’s what we have in the cross. In the biblical storyline, the cross functions in bringing everything together.

What I am arguing for is an appropriate Christ-centeredness, not, “read the text and make a beeline to the cross.” There is an appropriate Christ-centeredness and it falls to us as those who are called to be workmen, to discern this. To do full hermeneutical justice to a text we must take into account the progressive nature of God’s revelation. We must take into account the unfolding of salvation history. For it is only in light of that unfolding that earlier revelation can be fully understood and its full relevance found.

Our exegesis is not complete until we have examined the role the text plays in the overall frame of Scripture, which in its totality, testifies to God’s saving work of his people culminating in the highest point—the person and work of Christ.

Conclusion

In our preaching, let us be precise! Let us do the hard work of studying, reading, praying, writing little notes, tracing outlines of messages, tracing flow, and then sitting down on Saturday to write and pray. Let’s do all of that. Let’s be passionate. Let’s be praying. Let’s appropriately embody the truth’s intended effect in our lives. And let us do all this in light of the moment to which all other revelation points—Jesus Christ in his atoning, substitutionary work on our behalf.

A Workman Approved by God: Transcripts from the 2008 Pastors College Preaching Conference Copyright © 2008 by Sovereign Grace Ministries