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One of the greatest privileges and overwhelming responsibilities I have is to preach, to feed Christ’s sheep by proclamation of His word and in calling us to repentance in faithfulness, extending the blessing of repentance to those outside the sheep gate. I cannot speak for other pastors and their approaches; however, I am increasingly burdened by two aspects of sermon delivery and preparation.
First, the sermon preached on Sunday (or whenever) must be one that I have allowed the Lord to preach to me, as it were.[1] I must have it clear in my head that I am not the physician in the pulpit, but as Sinclair Ferguson encouraged us a few years ago, we are the nurse-aids, the physicians assistants (i.e., not the featured doctor!) looking to the Spirit to call for the tools and medicines that Christ’s sheep would require. If the medicine does not work on me, then I cannot in good conscience pedal it onto others.
Second, I am convinced that power in the pulpit is singular in its source. It is true that the prophets of God have used all kinds of visible effects which are more or less theatric or dramatic. For example, Ezekiel is told to prophesy and to clap his hands in doing so (Ezekiel 21:14). However, behavior of prophets - strange or otherwise -”is secondary to the primary connotation of speaking in the name of the Lord.”[2] That is to say, preaching in the tradition of God’s prophets involves far more than just accurate theological proposition; and yet, anything the preacher employs to communicate the Word of God must always serve to better “unfold the text”[3] for the parishoners.
In conclusion, I believe that in allowing the Scripture to first unfold first into and onto and through me helps to ensure that the medicine I am giving is worth taking and helps me to consciously be under the Word as those who listen to my sermon are under the Word.