A Great Delivery
Preaching
Preaching To Myself
And Other Hints On How To Preach Great Sermons 52 Weeks A Year
1. The Purpose Of A Sermon
The purpose of a sermon is to transmit emotion. I would borrow the words of A. E. Housman, a poet, who wrote about the purpose of poetry: "To transmit emotion -- not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader's sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer -- is the particular function of poetry."1
A sermon does, or should do, the same thing -- it should transmit the emotion of the preacher, or more accurately, the emotion/energy of the Holy Spirit as expressed through the preacher. Yes, there are definitely thoughts, ideas, facts, and theology to get across. But they won't stick with the people past the final prayer (or, let's be honest, the "Amen" after the sermon) unless they have been transmitted on an emotional plane.
Another way to describe the purpose of a sermon is this: a sermon teaches people how to pray. I do not mean in a narrow, explicit sense, but in a broad sense. A sermon should teach the hearer something about his or her relationship with God -- and if it does that, then it should be conveying something about the intimacy that is part of that relationship. Sometimes when I am stuck writing a sermon, I ask myself how in the world might this help someone to pray better? And the answer often gives me the focus I need to refocus and finish writing the sermon.
2. Before Starting
Approach the pulpit (or the spot from which you will preach) slowly, deliberately, and with a good mix of confidence and humility. Your notes should be set; don't shuffle them. Before you start, pray silently for God's strength to come into you to preach the sermon with power (or a dose of whatever else you think you need that day). Then you can do wonders for the receptivity of your sermon by simply smiling. Look out over the folks who will put up with your sermon today, whether five or five hundred, and stand amazed that you are God's messenger. Smile that you have such an awesome vocation. Soak it in. What a privilege it is to preach!
3. Invocations -- Prayers Before The Sermon
It is common in some churches to say a "set" prayer before the start of the sermon. Below are some of my favorites. While they can be read, I much prefer to memorize them and pray them with great conviction and power. They probably do as much for me in setting the tone as they do for the people.
"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O God, our strength and our redeemer."
+++
"What we hear with our ears and say with our lips, may we take to our hearts and show forth in our lives, for Christ's sake, Amen." (Warning -- make sure you do not say, "What we hear with our lips" or some other mix-up -- you have to be alert and think when saying this one.)
+++
A good invocation for Advent:
"Lord Jesus Christ, at your first coming John the Baptist prepared the way for you. Grant that my preaching may also prepare and make ready the way for you to come and turn our hearts, so that at your second coming to judge the world, we may be found acceptable in your sight."
+++
An invocation for Pentecost, and for sermons emphasizing the person and work of the Holy Spirit:
"Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in us the fire of your love."
+++
Good for feast days:
"May God send forth the Word, and may the spices of the gospel melt to give forth their sweet fragrance. [May the word of God become more to us than gold or precious stone, and sweeter than honey in the honeycomb.]"
+++
A basic standby:
"May the Word of God be spoken.
May the Word of God be heard.
May the Word of God be understood,
through Jesus Christ who is the Word."
+++
Also good for Pentecost:
"May our eyes catch fire and see God,
May our ears catch fire and hear God,
May our minds catch fire and know God,
May our tongues catch fire and name God,
May our hearts catch fire and love God."
+++
A good invocation for Epiphany:
"May Jesus Christ, the king of glory, help us to make the right use of all the myrrh that God sends, and to offer to him the true incense of our hearts, for his name's sake. Amen."
+++
This is adapted from Ephesians 6:19-20:
"Pray for me,
that I may be granted the right words when I open my mouth,
and may boldly and freely make known
God's hidden purpose,
for which I am an ambassador.
Pray that I may speak of it boldly,
as it is my duty to speak. Amen."
4. Great Beginnings
Memorize your opening line(s). This will get you off to a great start with direct eye contact. Whether it's a story, a joke, a quote, a verse of scripture, a question, it should lead directly into the subject matter of the sermon. You do not have to be cute here. But start with confidence in your opener. And keep smiling.
5. Preaching With Notes
In my earlier preaching days, I would rough out the sermon, then go back and write out a very readable outline. As I finished up more and more sermons late on Saturday or early Sunday, I began to forego writing out my notes in a nice outline. I began taking my yellow legal pad with me with all my notes scribbled here and there, with whole sections crossed out and margin notes and abbreviations and arrows all over. It works for me but I don't recommend it. I prefer to make a clean, readable outline of my notes, especially now that I need reading glasses. If the light is not just right, scribbled notes cannot be read.
The outline is simple: the main thought that is the opener, then the first main section, with maybe a couple of sub-points. I don't write out whole stories. If I am going to tell the story about getting lost out in the country and having to turn the car around and how that is an example of what repentance is, I might just jot down on my legal pad "story of getting lost out in country -- define repentance."
The outline generally fits on one page; sometimes it takes two. If I am using more paper than that, it is probably more of a manuscript than an outline. Except for certain occasions, I think manuscript sermons probably aren't what people today need or want. People are used to ten-second sound bites on radio and television, not listening to dissertations of twenty or fifteen or even twelve minutes' duration.
Preachers today must engage the listener, and that means getting unshackled from a manuscript. You can begin with small steps, telling stories that have happened to you without reading word by word from a manuscript. Then expand until more and more of your sermon is delivered from an outline, not the full manuscript.
6. Preaching Without Notes
To do this, you have to have a very simple one-two-three sermon. It needs to flow so that even if you get distracted, you could pick up the story because it flows in a natural sequence.
The thing most preachers who preach without notes worry about is that they will suddenly lose their place and have absolutely nothing to look down at to refresh their memory. That has happened to me a few times and most of the time, after the initial panic, the train of thought comes back, just as it does in everyday life. The worst that happens is you have to ask the congregation, "Now, where was I?" They are happy to oblige.
I don't think it is any great emblem on your shoulder if you can preach without notes. Personally, I am more comfortable having the outline in front of me. Even though I may only glance at it a few times, it is a security blanket that allows me to funnel all my energy into preaching the sermon, rather than getting stressed out over trying to remember where the sermon is going. But if you enjoy the challenge of preaching without notes, go for it.
The other main thing I had to get over without notes was, what if I make a mistake? What if I say something heretical? I made a decision a few years ago that I would rather preach without a manuscript and perhaps say some really stupid things, than to preach with a nice safe manuscript that I had checked for theological or historical or other errors. So far, the worst I've said was that Joseph was the youngest son of Jacob (he wasn't -- Benjamin was) and that Paul and Barnabas were in prison together (it was Paul and Silas). I would rather make these kinds of mistakes and give an engaged, energetic sermon, than a safe sermon from a perfect manuscript.
7. The Remote Control Test
I have noticed something about a number of the preachers on television on Sunday mornings and afternoons. A lot of them are saying loving, wonderful things about God. But something doesn't feel right inside me. If I don't feel too good in my stomach, that is probably a clue that something is wrong. So I have developed a little test. So far it has been 100 percent accurate. I dig out the remote control from between the couch cushions, aim it at Super Preacher, and press the mute button. Then, without the sound, I can be totally attentive to the look on Super Preacher's face. This way, what is coming out of his or her mouth doesn't confuse me. If the preacher looks loving, kind, and nice, I press the mute button again to turn the sound back on, and I listen. On the other hand, if the preacher looks mean, or if he or she looks angry, or seems to be shouting at me, then I go to another channel. I do not think that a preacher should look mean or mad, or yell at his listeners.
When I am preaching sometimes I think, what are people seeing on my face? Could I pass the remote control test? I want them to see my loving face, even if I am preaching about repentance or death. Besides, that is the only way they will hear me. If I do not love them with my face, then in their hearts and heads they are going to turn on their internal "mute" button, and nothing I say will get through anyway. So smile and love them.
8. Words That Should Not Be Used Under Any Circumstances
This is the story of just about the biggest goober I ever made preaching. I wanted to tell a story about how I was really frustrated and upset and angry. I thought I would use a new phrase that I had heard a few times recently. I wasn't entirely sure that it meant frustrated, angry, and upset, but since it was quite clearly used in that context several times by others, I just thought I'd go ahead and use it. So in my sermon I just happened to mention, with an entirely straight face, that recently I had been "on the rag." I assumed it was the cousin to "on a tear" or "on a rampage," and besides that, it sounded pretty cool, I thought, so I threw it out there in my sermon.
Afterward, a young woman about my age shook my hand and greeted me and whispered in my ear, "Do you know the meaning of what you said this morning?" I looked at her puzzled, and asked, "Uh, what?" She told me in no uncertain terms. I do not think I have been closer to total mortification in any other circumstance in life.
Which brings me to the general subject of "Words and phrases that should not be used in a sermon under any circumstances." Note that "any" means "any." Those words would include: intercourse, erection, pubic, ejaculate or ejaculatory, and copulation. In fact, it's probably a good idea to expunge any "bathroom talk" or language about private bodily functions from sermons as a general rule.
That said, the fastest, most sure-proof way to bring back a congregation that is falling asleep under your preaching is to say "sex" in the middle of your sermon. At once, as if manipulated by a string, all the heads that were nodding down to doze, peek at the bulletin, look for a nail file in a purse, and examine the number of squares in the carpet (yes, it is possible for a sermon to be so boring that counting the number of squares in the carpet a dozen times is more interesting than anything that is being said), yes, all those heads snap up and all eyes are fixated for one luscious moment on the pulpit (use this secret weapon wisely).
9. Speeding Up A Notch
I always have mixed feelings when I am a passenger on a commercial airline that for one reason or another has gotten out of the gate late and I am sitting there eating one of the 22 peanuts in the bag when the pilot's voice comes over the audio system crackling with interference and says, "Well, everybody, welcome to the flight today. We got out of the gate a little later than planned there because of some (tzzzztskkkkkk) repairs to the (tzzzzzskkkkk) but now that we are airborn, copilot Joe and I here are going to kick up the speed a notch and try to make up some of that time, so, if everything goes well, we should be arriving on time at our destination. Sit back and enjoy the flight."
Would somebody please explain to me why, if it is possible to go faster under these circumstances, they don't fly at this increased speed all the time? What are they doing up there ... holding back on normal flights just so they have a little room to "kick it up a notch" when they are running late?
Now, let me say that sometimes I am tempted to do the same thing in my preaching. The service got started late, the hymns were extra long, the people are looking not happy that they might get to their tee time a few minutes late, so I am tempted to get up in the pulpit and "kick it up a notch." I think it's important to resist that temptation. Sure, probably all my sermons could be reduced by 75 percent and we could get to the end of the service faster. But that's not the point. So sit back and break out the peanuts, folks, you are getting the whole nine yards today.
10. Harkey
On the other hand, I have always been mindful that a good sermon ends on time. I suppose I learned this at an early age when I sat with my mother in the last pew to the pastor's left, which happened to be the closest seat to the exit door, a fact I did not fully appreciate until one day when I was doing a little self-psychoanalyzing, trying to figure out why I did not like people who sat in the last pew and left the service just as fast as they could, but I digress ...
As my feet swung in front of me because I was too short to put my feet on the nice carpet below, my view from the pew included Harkey, the head usher who had been a church fixture as long as I could remember. Harkey was old and tall and skinny and bent over and he sat in a folding chair with the rest of the ushers behind the last pew, square in the center aisle. I realized in later years that this was an ideal spot from which to flag the preacher if he (and it was a "he" in those days) went overtime. "Overtime" was 12:01. If Pastor Brown hadn't wound it up by then (the sermon was the last item before the final prayer), Harkey's big pocket watch which he kept in his vest would go off, and my mother would turn to me, nod in the pastor's direction, and say, "I hope he hurries up, or my roast chicken is going to burn." And I too silently rooted for the sermon to end quickly, so we could be first out the door to greet the pastor, run down the cement steps, and ride home to roast chicken, dressing, and mashed potatoes. So even now, when I start to get a little long-winded, I swear I start to smell roast chicken burning and I can hear Harkey shuffling to turn off his pocket watch, and I wrap things up real fast.
11. Great Endings
The ending of your sermon should be memorized so that you can give it while looking up and out. It should be delivered with a "punch" unless that's clearly inappropriate. Again, you should work hard at having a smile on your face at this point.
Before your final "amen," pause. Say "amen" like you mean it. Don't shuffle with your notes and don't hurry out of the pulpit. Naturally and deliberately return to your place.
Then try to forget about it. I'll be honest. If I think I preached a really good sermon or a really bad one, I am usually still thinking about it right through the rest of the service. If it didn't flow as well as I thought, I am trying to figure out how to fix it. But by doing this, I miss the rest of the service. Try as hard as you can to put it out of your head. You have all the rest of Sunday to think about it if you want to. Let it go and enjoy your own service.
12. Three Sermons
There is an old saying that every time you preach, there are three sermons:
a. The sermon you intended to deliver;
b. The sermon you actually delivered;
c. The sermon you wish you had delivered.
Get over it.
____________
1. A. E. Housman, "The Name and Nature of Poetry," The Messages of the Poets (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1911), p. 236.
The purpose of a sermon is to transmit emotion. I would borrow the words of A. E. Housman, a poet, who wrote about the purpose of poetry: "To transmit emotion -- not to transmit thought but to set up in the reader's sense a vibration corresponding to what was felt by the writer -- is the particular function of poetry."1
A sermon does, or should do, the same thing -- it should transmit the emotion of the preacher, or more accurately, the emotion/energy of the Holy Spirit as expressed through the preacher. Yes, there are definitely thoughts, ideas, facts, and theology to get across. But they won't stick with the people past the final prayer (or, let's be honest, the "Amen" after the sermon) unless they have been transmitted on an emotional plane.
Another way to describe the purpose of a sermon is this: a sermon teaches people how to pray. I do not mean in a narrow, explicit sense, but in a broad sense. A sermon should teach the hearer something about his or her relationship with God -- and if it does that, then it should be conveying something about the intimacy that is part of that relationship. Sometimes when I am stuck writing a sermon, I ask myself how in the world might this help someone to pray better? And the answer often gives me the focus I need to refocus and finish writing the sermon.
2. Before Starting
Approach the pulpit (or the spot from which you will preach) slowly, deliberately, and with a good mix of confidence and humility. Your notes should be set; don't shuffle them. Before you start, pray silently for God's strength to come into you to preach the sermon with power (or a dose of whatever else you think you need that day). Then you can do wonders for the receptivity of your sermon by simply smiling. Look out over the folks who will put up with your sermon today, whether five or five hundred, and stand amazed that you are God's messenger. Smile that you have such an awesome vocation. Soak it in. What a privilege it is to preach!
3. Invocations -- Prayers Before The Sermon
It is common in some churches to say a "set" prayer before the start of the sermon. Below are some of my favorites. While they can be read, I much prefer to memorize them and pray them with great conviction and power. They probably do as much for me in setting the tone as they do for the people.
"May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight, O God, our strength and our redeemer."
+++
"What we hear with our ears and say with our lips, may we take to our hearts and show forth in our lives, for Christ's sake, Amen." (Warning -- make sure you do not say, "What we hear with our lips" or some other mix-up -- you have to be alert and think when saying this one.)
+++
A good invocation for Advent:
"Lord Jesus Christ, at your first coming John the Baptist prepared the way for you. Grant that my preaching may also prepare and make ready the way for you to come and turn our hearts, so that at your second coming to judge the world, we may be found acceptable in your sight."
+++
An invocation for Pentecost, and for sermons emphasizing the person and work of the Holy Spirit:
"Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful, and kindle in us the fire of your love."
+++
Good for feast days:
"May God send forth the Word, and may the spices of the gospel melt to give forth their sweet fragrance. [May the word of God become more to us than gold or precious stone, and sweeter than honey in the honeycomb.]"
+++
A basic standby:
"May the Word of God be spoken.
May the Word of God be heard.
May the Word of God be understood,
through Jesus Christ who is the Word."
+++
Also good for Pentecost:
"May our eyes catch fire and see God,
May our ears catch fire and hear God,
May our minds catch fire and know God,
May our tongues catch fire and name God,
May our hearts catch fire and love God."
+++
A good invocation for Epiphany:
"May Jesus Christ, the king of glory, help us to make the right use of all the myrrh that God sends, and to offer to him the true incense of our hearts, for his name's sake. Amen."
+++
This is adapted from Ephesians 6:19-20:
"Pray for me,
that I may be granted the right words when I open my mouth,
and may boldly and freely make known
God's hidden purpose,
for which I am an ambassador.
Pray that I may speak of it boldly,
as it is my duty to speak. Amen."
4. Great Beginnings
Memorize your opening line(s). This will get you off to a great start with direct eye contact. Whether it's a story, a joke, a quote, a verse of scripture, a question, it should lead directly into the subject matter of the sermon. You do not have to be cute here. But start with confidence in your opener. And keep smiling.
5. Preaching With Notes
In my earlier preaching days, I would rough out the sermon, then go back and write out a very readable outline. As I finished up more and more sermons late on Saturday or early Sunday, I began to forego writing out my notes in a nice outline. I began taking my yellow legal pad with me with all my notes scribbled here and there, with whole sections crossed out and margin notes and abbreviations and arrows all over. It works for me but I don't recommend it. I prefer to make a clean, readable outline of my notes, especially now that I need reading glasses. If the light is not just right, scribbled notes cannot be read.
The outline is simple: the main thought that is the opener, then the first main section, with maybe a couple of sub-points. I don't write out whole stories. If I am going to tell the story about getting lost out in the country and having to turn the car around and how that is an example of what repentance is, I might just jot down on my legal pad "story of getting lost out in country -- define repentance."
The outline generally fits on one page; sometimes it takes two. If I am using more paper than that, it is probably more of a manuscript than an outline. Except for certain occasions, I think manuscript sermons probably aren't what people today need or want. People are used to ten-second sound bites on radio and television, not listening to dissertations of twenty or fifteen or even twelve minutes' duration.
Preachers today must engage the listener, and that means getting unshackled from a manuscript. You can begin with small steps, telling stories that have happened to you without reading word by word from a manuscript. Then expand until more and more of your sermon is delivered from an outline, not the full manuscript.
6. Preaching Without Notes
To do this, you have to have a very simple one-two-three sermon. It needs to flow so that even if you get distracted, you could pick up the story because it flows in a natural sequence.
The thing most preachers who preach without notes worry about is that they will suddenly lose their place and have absolutely nothing to look down at to refresh their memory. That has happened to me a few times and most of the time, after the initial panic, the train of thought comes back, just as it does in everyday life. The worst that happens is you have to ask the congregation, "Now, where was I?" They are happy to oblige.
I don't think it is any great emblem on your shoulder if you can preach without notes. Personally, I am more comfortable having the outline in front of me. Even though I may only glance at it a few times, it is a security blanket that allows me to funnel all my energy into preaching the sermon, rather than getting stressed out over trying to remember where the sermon is going. But if you enjoy the challenge of preaching without notes, go for it.
The other main thing I had to get over without notes was, what if I make a mistake? What if I say something heretical? I made a decision a few years ago that I would rather preach without a manuscript and perhaps say some really stupid things, than to preach with a nice safe manuscript that I had checked for theological or historical or other errors. So far, the worst I've said was that Joseph was the youngest son of Jacob (he wasn't -- Benjamin was) and that Paul and Barnabas were in prison together (it was Paul and Silas). I would rather make these kinds of mistakes and give an engaged, energetic sermon, than a safe sermon from a perfect manuscript.
7. The Remote Control Test
I have noticed something about a number of the preachers on television on Sunday mornings and afternoons. A lot of them are saying loving, wonderful things about God. But something doesn't feel right inside me. If I don't feel too good in my stomach, that is probably a clue that something is wrong. So I have developed a little test. So far it has been 100 percent accurate. I dig out the remote control from between the couch cushions, aim it at Super Preacher, and press the mute button. Then, without the sound, I can be totally attentive to the look on Super Preacher's face. This way, what is coming out of his or her mouth doesn't confuse me. If the preacher looks loving, kind, and nice, I press the mute button again to turn the sound back on, and I listen. On the other hand, if the preacher looks mean, or if he or she looks angry, or seems to be shouting at me, then I go to another channel. I do not think that a preacher should look mean or mad, or yell at his listeners.
When I am preaching sometimes I think, what are people seeing on my face? Could I pass the remote control test? I want them to see my loving face, even if I am preaching about repentance or death. Besides, that is the only way they will hear me. If I do not love them with my face, then in their hearts and heads they are going to turn on their internal "mute" button, and nothing I say will get through anyway. So smile and love them.
8. Words That Should Not Be Used Under Any Circumstances
This is the story of just about the biggest goober I ever made preaching. I wanted to tell a story about how I was really frustrated and upset and angry. I thought I would use a new phrase that I had heard a few times recently. I wasn't entirely sure that it meant frustrated, angry, and upset, but since it was quite clearly used in that context several times by others, I just thought I'd go ahead and use it. So in my sermon I just happened to mention, with an entirely straight face, that recently I had been "on the rag." I assumed it was the cousin to "on a tear" or "on a rampage," and besides that, it sounded pretty cool, I thought, so I threw it out there in my sermon.
Afterward, a young woman about my age shook my hand and greeted me and whispered in my ear, "Do you know the meaning of what you said this morning?" I looked at her puzzled, and asked, "Uh, what?" She told me in no uncertain terms. I do not think I have been closer to total mortification in any other circumstance in life.
Which brings me to the general subject of "Words and phrases that should not be used in a sermon under any circumstances." Note that "any" means "any." Those words would include: intercourse, erection, pubic, ejaculate or ejaculatory, and copulation. In fact, it's probably a good idea to expunge any "bathroom talk" or language about private bodily functions from sermons as a general rule.
That said, the fastest, most sure-proof way to bring back a congregation that is falling asleep under your preaching is to say "sex" in the middle of your sermon. At once, as if manipulated by a string, all the heads that were nodding down to doze, peek at the bulletin, look for a nail file in a purse, and examine the number of squares in the carpet (yes, it is possible for a sermon to be so boring that counting the number of squares in the carpet a dozen times is more interesting than anything that is being said), yes, all those heads snap up and all eyes are fixated for one luscious moment on the pulpit (use this secret weapon wisely).
9. Speeding Up A Notch
I always have mixed feelings when I am a passenger on a commercial airline that for one reason or another has gotten out of the gate late and I am sitting there eating one of the 22 peanuts in the bag when the pilot's voice comes over the audio system crackling with interference and says, "Well, everybody, welcome to the flight today. We got out of the gate a little later than planned there because of some (tzzzztskkkkkk) repairs to the (tzzzzzskkkkk) but now that we are airborn, copilot Joe and I here are going to kick up the speed a notch and try to make up some of that time, so, if everything goes well, we should be arriving on time at our destination. Sit back and enjoy the flight."
Would somebody please explain to me why, if it is possible to go faster under these circumstances, they don't fly at this increased speed all the time? What are they doing up there ... holding back on normal flights just so they have a little room to "kick it up a notch" when they are running late?
Now, let me say that sometimes I am tempted to do the same thing in my preaching. The service got started late, the hymns were extra long, the people are looking not happy that they might get to their tee time a few minutes late, so I am tempted to get up in the pulpit and "kick it up a notch." I think it's important to resist that temptation. Sure, probably all my sermons could be reduced by 75 percent and we could get to the end of the service faster. But that's not the point. So sit back and break out the peanuts, folks, you are getting the whole nine yards today.
10. Harkey
On the other hand, I have always been mindful that a good sermon ends on time. I suppose I learned this at an early age when I sat with my mother in the last pew to the pastor's left, which happened to be the closest seat to the exit door, a fact I did not fully appreciate until one day when I was doing a little self-psychoanalyzing, trying to figure out why I did not like people who sat in the last pew and left the service just as fast as they could, but I digress ...
As my feet swung in front of me because I was too short to put my feet on the nice carpet below, my view from the pew included Harkey, the head usher who had been a church fixture as long as I could remember. Harkey was old and tall and skinny and bent over and he sat in a folding chair with the rest of the ushers behind the last pew, square in the center aisle. I realized in later years that this was an ideal spot from which to flag the preacher if he (and it was a "he" in those days) went overtime. "Overtime" was 12:01. If Pastor Brown hadn't wound it up by then (the sermon was the last item before the final prayer), Harkey's big pocket watch which he kept in his vest would go off, and my mother would turn to me, nod in the pastor's direction, and say, "I hope he hurries up, or my roast chicken is going to burn." And I too silently rooted for the sermon to end quickly, so we could be first out the door to greet the pastor, run down the cement steps, and ride home to roast chicken, dressing, and mashed potatoes. So even now, when I start to get a little long-winded, I swear I start to smell roast chicken burning and I can hear Harkey shuffling to turn off his pocket watch, and I wrap things up real fast.
11. Great Endings
The ending of your sermon should be memorized so that you can give it while looking up and out. It should be delivered with a "punch" unless that's clearly inappropriate. Again, you should work hard at having a smile on your face at this point.
Before your final "amen," pause. Say "amen" like you mean it. Don't shuffle with your notes and don't hurry out of the pulpit. Naturally and deliberately return to your place.
Then try to forget about it. I'll be honest. If I think I preached a really good sermon or a really bad one, I am usually still thinking about it right through the rest of the service. If it didn't flow as well as I thought, I am trying to figure out how to fix it. But by doing this, I miss the rest of the service. Try as hard as you can to put it out of your head. You have all the rest of Sunday to think about it if you want to. Let it go and enjoy your own service.
12. Three Sermons
There is an old saying that every time you preach, there are three sermons:
a. The sermon you intended to deliver;
b. The sermon you actually delivered;
c. The sermon you wish you had delivered.
Get over it.
____________
1. A. E. Housman, "The Name and Nature of Poetry," The Messages of the Poets (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1911), p. 236.
