Translator's Preface: April, 1919
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"Translator's Preface: April, 1919" by David O. Bales
"The Wedding Banquet" by Frank R. Fisher
"Sex Is a Turn-Off" by Timothy F. Merrill
What's Up This Week
"The Power of Love" -- we've all heard that phrase, and it's provided the title for numerous popular songs (and the theme of thousands more). But what does it really mean? Our stories in this edition of StoryShare provide powerful illustrations that the concept is truly embodied not in romantic attraction, but rather in sacrificial giving to others. In our featured story, David Bales offers an "author's preface" that paints a vivid portrait of two colleagues who find themselves separated by events -- and how deeply one gave of himself to sustain his friend. Then Frank Fisher shares a moving story about a congregation transformed by the deep wisdom of a child, who grasps exactly what Jesus means when he says that all are invited to the banquet. Finally, Timothy Merrill gives us a few brief thoughts on research suggesting that love, not sex, is actually the most powerful "subliminal seduction" tool for advertisers.
* * * * * * * * *
Translator's Preface: April, 1919
David O. Bales
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
It is my privilege to present this translation of Professor Gustav Haussmann's seminal work in New Testament lexicography. All who care about the meaning of the New Testament will profit from this book. The discoveries coming to light from ancient Egypt's garbage dumps have granted the Christian church a treasure of the New Testament's original Greek language. These scraps of papyrus restore the sound and sense of the common Greek as it was spoken and written by ordinary people in the time of Jesus and Paul.
Professor Haussmann unearthed many of these manuscripts, but more importantly he assessed, collated, and catalogued the 19th century's discoveries of non-literary papyri. The English-speaking world now benefits from his dedication.
His work needs no introduction. His genius and industry speak for themselves, I pray, even in translation. However, in Professor Haussmann's memory and as gratitude both to him and to our Lord Jesus, I include an account of this manuscript's belated presentation to the English-speaking world.
Professor Haussmann and I corresponded in the last six months of my doctoral study. I was recommended as translator of his German work by my friend at Oxford, Professor Willi Mann, who was Professor Haussmann's brother-in-law. By correspondence Professor Haussmann and I had settled upon a format for the English version, minor rearrangements of content, and an updated English bibliography.
I arrived in Germany in May, 1914. Because his English was quite good, our work progressed swiftly. We expected to see the manuscript in the publisher's hand in six months. Our working relationship was so agreeable that Professor and Frau Haussmann and I vacationed for two weeks, hiking in the Tyrol, during which time I met many members of his family.
Even then events were tumbling in around us. It seemed the heavens were crumbling. Within weeks, despite our earnest and constant prayers, the Great War descended upon Europe and enveloped the globe.
In Berlin the Kaiser's government needed someplace to put a few thousand interned enemy aliens. We were "stabled" at a nearby racetrack at Ruhleben. Being a prisoner in a horse stall was difficult to begin with, and it became worse over the war years. Professor Haussmann pleaded with the Commandant of Berlin as well as with church officials to protest my incarceration. I believe it was the pressure exerted by church officials that finally allowed him to visit me on Christmas, 1914. He brought a package of food, the kind he said that was sent to soldiers at the front. He looked aside as he said, "I am so ashamed of my fellow Christians. One said that he heard God's voice in the sound of the cannons justifying Germany's war." He apologized several times during his few minutes with me. I remember him at that first meeting as he glanced over his shoulder at the guard and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
We corresponded monthly on the standard "open" postcard form. When he was granted permission to visit me again in February, 1915, he had lost weight. His face, usually round and jolly, was narrow and lined. He brought me again a blessed package of food.
At his third visit in the fall of 1915 I was gloriously happy that he could bring his book to translate. He understood correctly that I was as thrilled with the work to do as with the few turnips and beets he delivered. I noticed when he placed the book into my hands that his fingers were nearly skeletal. He spoke quietly, "The preachers say that God is with the Germans, as though God is not with the Belgians whom we Germans invaded." He stumbled as he left but caught himself. From outside the door of my stable cell he dabbed his eyes with a rag, then raised his bony hand to bless me. I never saw him again.
Frau Haussmann visited me three times in 1916. The professor was ill. She brought food and a coat of the professor's. She said, "For now, this is all we can offer. We are so sorry." However, although the Haussmann family was restricted in their visiting, early in 1917 I was cheered by a local pastor who was allowed to call upon me once a month. Every time he brought a package of food from the professor. Each package came ripped apart and I could see the skinny guard eating quickly as he allowed the pastor to enter.
When Frau Haussmann arrived at my cell in the spring of 1918 I perceived before she spoke that the professor had died. She was a very dear person and she was clearly hungry herself, but she handed me a package of food that the professor had asked her to deliver.
I was repatriated in November, 1918, and visited Professor Willi Mann to report what I knew about his sister. Through the Red Cross he had managed to send and receive letters to her within the last two weeks. I told him how sad I was about Professor Haussmann's death and asked if he knew details.
He said, "You did not know?" He then surmised from my look and, I'm sure, from his knowledge of his brother-in-law that I did not know. He said simply, "The attending physician pronounced him dead of malnutrition."
This book reaches an English readership as the world slowly quiets and, I hope, heals. The Great War of 1914-1918 interfered with the translation and caused suffering for both the author and the translator. And yet, Gustav Haussmann's life and work help us to understand the message of Hebrews 13, "Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them.... Remember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith."
David O. Bales is a retired Presbyterian minister and a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. He is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace and is a contributing author to Sermons on the Second Readings (Series II, Cycle A).
The Wedding Banquet
Frank R. Fisher
Luke 14:1, 7-14
It was time.
Yes, it was time for the banquet to begin.
Its preparations had occupied the Host for what seemed like countless ages. No detail had been overlooked. Every possible delight for the eye had been set up in the banqueting room. And every possible exquisite dish had been placed upon the table. Huge vases stood beside each plate, vases filled with the most fragrant of flowers. All around the room, everything stood ready to welcome the people who would grace this beautiful setting.
"Now," thought the Host, "the feast is ready. But I haven't yet thought how to invite the guests. I could send out invitations beautifully engraved on the finest parchment. But if I did that, those who couldn't see wouldn't think they were invited.
"Perhaps I should send out invitations with raised letters engraved on tablets of the finest gold. Then the blind could feel the invitations with their hands. But if I did that, those who were poor would think no one who would send such expensive invitations would want them to come to the banquet.
"I know. I won't send out written invitations at all. Instead, I'll send runners to dash across the land and shout out the invitation as they go. But if I do that, those who are in any way weak or crippled will think only the able-bodied can come to the banquet."
For a long time, the Host pondered the problem of how to invite everyone to sit at the banquet table. "There must be some way," the Host thought. "There must be something I can do to make sure everyone knows they're invited."
Finally, a smile brightened the Host's face. Then, running through the door of the exquisite banquet chamber, the Host entered the perfect place from which to personally deliver the invitations.
And the invitations to the banquet rang out far and wide from the manger of a stable, in the unimportant town of Bethlehem.
It was time.
Yes, it was time for the banquet to begin.
The floor of the Fellowship Hall had been washed and waxed until it shined like the sun itself. Each folding table had been transformed into something quite beyond itself by graceful folds of the finest white linen. On each table the best china, the finest silver, and the clearest crystal stood ready to welcome those who would come to the banquet.
The most wonderful smells floated through the air from the kitchen. And as the members solemnly entered, the smells generated a look of intense satisfaction on each face: satisfaction which indicated their silent, but very real anticipation of the feast in which they were about to partake.
Each member stood by their assigned place at the table. Then the minister's voice arose in solemn blessing: "We thank you, O God, for the good gifts which you've prepared: gifts which we're about to give to ourselves..."
"Hey! Wait a minute! Somebody's missing!"
Those words interrupted the minister's weighty speech. They came from a small child who was seated at a middle table.
"What do you mean?" the minister demanded. "Who's missing? I counted everyone on the way downstairs. I even looked in the pews in case someone fell asleep during the sermon. Everyone who's important is here."
"You don't get it," the child shot back. "Don't you remember what Jesus said? We're supposed to invite others to join in the banquet. We're supposed to look for those no one cares about. We're supposed to find people who can never do anything for us in return. Then we're supposed to bring them to the banquet and sit them down at the head table."
"No! No! We couldn't ever do a thing like that," the minister replied. "What would the neighbors think? Now, let's sit down and eat."
"But wait," the child interrupted again. "Jesus didn't make this optional. Jesus didn't say, 'When you give a dinner, I'd really like it if you'd invite a few poor people.' Jesus said, 'When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.' "
A hush fell over the crowd, for they knew the child was right. And rushing out the door, they went into nursing homes and tenements, and alleys and taverns. And when they found someone who was hungry, or old and alone, or injured, or poor, they invited them to the banquet.
Later, they realized their church had begun to grow on that very day. Its pews were filled, and its classrooms were packed. At one time some would've declared many of its members to be one of those other people. Now they welcomed all as children of God.
No one was surprised, of course, that a child had shown them all the way. How could they be surprised? For they knew the first invitation to the banquet came from a baby in the stable of Bethlehem.
It is time.
Yes, it is time for the banquet to begin.
It begins every time we come before this table -- for even when the bread and wine are absent, this table reminds us of the joyful feast of the people of God. It reminds us of the day we will be gathered from north and south and east and west. It reminds us we will one day sit at table in the kingdom of God.
But there are places at the table still waiting to be filled. The instructions came long ago on how to fill them: "When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind."
These instructions aren't optional. They call on us not just to welcome those who are outcast. Instead, they call us to intimately invite them into our lives and into our hearts. Christ calls us to work toward fulfilling those instructions. Christ calls us to gather those who are the most outcast, and to gladly welcome them to the table.
And when we do, we will see in our midst a foretaste: a foretaste of the banquet -- the banquet whose invitations came from a poor stable in the unimportant town of Bethlehem.
Frank R. Fisher is a second-career interim/transitional pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. A former paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois.
Sex Is a Turn-Off
Timothy F. Merrill
Let mutual love continue.
Hebrews 13:1
You've seen the ads.
The car is red, sleek, and sexy. We know it's sexy because of the bikini draped over the hood with a blond babe barely in it.
Same for the Harley. Great-looking motorcycle, with an even greater-looking leggy bimbo who's ready to shift, if not strip, your gears.
Using sex to sell products is old news. We've come to expect it. Even furniture ads often feature a long-haired beauty whose "come hither" look has been honed to perfection.
Research shows, however, that Americans may be getting tired of this ploy. We're learning that consumers prefer images of love when considering a product over images of sex. Selling cars? Then you'd better know that consumers prefer the love image to the sex gimmick by 32 percent to 15 percent. For furniture, it's 38 percent to 10 percent. Appliances, it's 35 percent to 8 percent. As for all the other consumers, they couldn't care less one way or another. ("Where's the Lovin'?" American Demographics, February 2001)
It's simple. Americans prefer the love connection. We admire companies that promote traditional values. Even the younger audience is attracted to messages that push the love-marketing approach. This is not true for the audience that is making more than $75,000 a year. They tend to be more cynical about wet-hanky, tear-yanking commercials. But for the rest of the audience, you produce a three-hanky commercial about love, and you'll sell your product.
Perhaps your vulnerability to love-marketing is affected by whether you're in a committed relationship. Maybe. Forty-nine percent of those who are not in any romantic relationship respond to images of sex compared to 28 percent of those in a committed relationship. On the other hand, 64 percent of those in just a casual relationship are more likely to buy a product pandered by love than one pimped by sex.
It makes sense. Love is what we're looking for. It's what we need more of. It's what the apostle Paul calls "the greatest."
Timothy F. Merrill is the Senior Editor of the preaching journal Homiletics. He has published numerous articles in the religious press and in academic journals, and he is the author of Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy (Chalice Press). Merrill is an ordained United Church of Christ minister who has served churches in Colorado, Minnesota, and Oregon. This piece appears in the CSS volume Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit (Series IV, Cycle C).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, September 2, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"Translator's Preface: April, 1919" by David O. Bales
"The Wedding Banquet" by Frank R. Fisher
"Sex Is a Turn-Off" by Timothy F. Merrill
What's Up This Week
"The Power of Love" -- we've all heard that phrase, and it's provided the title for numerous popular songs (and the theme of thousands more). But what does it really mean? Our stories in this edition of StoryShare provide powerful illustrations that the concept is truly embodied not in romantic attraction, but rather in sacrificial giving to others. In our featured story, David Bales offers an "author's preface" that paints a vivid portrait of two colleagues who find themselves separated by events -- and how deeply one gave of himself to sustain his friend. Then Frank Fisher shares a moving story about a congregation transformed by the deep wisdom of a child, who grasps exactly what Jesus means when he says that all are invited to the banquet. Finally, Timothy Merrill gives us a few brief thoughts on research suggesting that love, not sex, is actually the most powerful "subliminal seduction" tool for advertisers.
* * * * * * * * *
Translator's Preface: April, 1919
David O. Bales
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
It is my privilege to present this translation of Professor Gustav Haussmann's seminal work in New Testament lexicography. All who care about the meaning of the New Testament will profit from this book. The discoveries coming to light from ancient Egypt's garbage dumps have granted the Christian church a treasure of the New Testament's original Greek language. These scraps of papyrus restore the sound and sense of the common Greek as it was spoken and written by ordinary people in the time of Jesus and Paul.
Professor Haussmann unearthed many of these manuscripts, but more importantly he assessed, collated, and catalogued the 19th century's discoveries of non-literary papyri. The English-speaking world now benefits from his dedication.
His work needs no introduction. His genius and industry speak for themselves, I pray, even in translation. However, in Professor Haussmann's memory and as gratitude both to him and to our Lord Jesus, I include an account of this manuscript's belated presentation to the English-speaking world.
Professor Haussmann and I corresponded in the last six months of my doctoral study. I was recommended as translator of his German work by my friend at Oxford, Professor Willi Mann, who was Professor Haussmann's brother-in-law. By correspondence Professor Haussmann and I had settled upon a format for the English version, minor rearrangements of content, and an updated English bibliography.
I arrived in Germany in May, 1914. Because his English was quite good, our work progressed swiftly. We expected to see the manuscript in the publisher's hand in six months. Our working relationship was so agreeable that Professor and Frau Haussmann and I vacationed for two weeks, hiking in the Tyrol, during which time I met many members of his family.
Even then events were tumbling in around us. It seemed the heavens were crumbling. Within weeks, despite our earnest and constant prayers, the Great War descended upon Europe and enveloped the globe.
In Berlin the Kaiser's government needed someplace to put a few thousand interned enemy aliens. We were "stabled" at a nearby racetrack at Ruhleben. Being a prisoner in a horse stall was difficult to begin with, and it became worse over the war years. Professor Haussmann pleaded with the Commandant of Berlin as well as with church officials to protest my incarceration. I believe it was the pressure exerted by church officials that finally allowed him to visit me on Christmas, 1914. He brought a package of food, the kind he said that was sent to soldiers at the front. He looked aside as he said, "I am so ashamed of my fellow Christians. One said that he heard God's voice in the sound of the cannons justifying Germany's war." He apologized several times during his few minutes with me. I remember him at that first meeting as he glanced over his shoulder at the guard and dabbed his eyes with a handkerchief.
We corresponded monthly on the standard "open" postcard form. When he was granted permission to visit me again in February, 1915, he had lost weight. His face, usually round and jolly, was narrow and lined. He brought me again a blessed package of food.
At his third visit in the fall of 1915 I was gloriously happy that he could bring his book to translate. He understood correctly that I was as thrilled with the work to do as with the few turnips and beets he delivered. I noticed when he placed the book into my hands that his fingers were nearly skeletal. He spoke quietly, "The preachers say that God is with the Germans, as though God is not with the Belgians whom we Germans invaded." He stumbled as he left but caught himself. From outside the door of my stable cell he dabbed his eyes with a rag, then raised his bony hand to bless me. I never saw him again.
Frau Haussmann visited me three times in 1916. The professor was ill. She brought food and a coat of the professor's. She said, "For now, this is all we can offer. We are so sorry." However, although the Haussmann family was restricted in their visiting, early in 1917 I was cheered by a local pastor who was allowed to call upon me once a month. Every time he brought a package of food from the professor. Each package came ripped apart and I could see the skinny guard eating quickly as he allowed the pastor to enter.
When Frau Haussmann arrived at my cell in the spring of 1918 I perceived before she spoke that the professor had died. She was a very dear person and she was clearly hungry herself, but she handed me a package of food that the professor had asked her to deliver.
I was repatriated in November, 1918, and visited Professor Willi Mann to report what I knew about his sister. Through the Red Cross he had managed to send and receive letters to her within the last two weeks. I told him how sad I was about Professor Haussmann's death and asked if he knew details.
He said, "You did not know?" He then surmised from my look and, I'm sure, from his knowledge of his brother-in-law that I did not know. He said simply, "The attending physician pronounced him dead of malnutrition."
This book reaches an English readership as the world slowly quiets and, I hope, heals. The Great War of 1914-1918 interfered with the translation and caused suffering for both the author and the translator. And yet, Gustav Haussmann's life and work help us to understand the message of Hebrews 13, "Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them.... Remember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith."
David O. Bales is a retired Presbyterian minister and a freelance writer and editor for Stephen Ministries and Tebunah Ministries. He is the author of Gospel Subplots: Story Sermons of God's Grace and is a contributing author to Sermons on the Second Readings (Series II, Cycle A).
The Wedding Banquet
Frank R. Fisher
Luke 14:1, 7-14
It was time.
Yes, it was time for the banquet to begin.
Its preparations had occupied the Host for what seemed like countless ages. No detail had been overlooked. Every possible delight for the eye had been set up in the banqueting room. And every possible exquisite dish had been placed upon the table. Huge vases stood beside each plate, vases filled with the most fragrant of flowers. All around the room, everything stood ready to welcome the people who would grace this beautiful setting.
"Now," thought the Host, "the feast is ready. But I haven't yet thought how to invite the guests. I could send out invitations beautifully engraved on the finest parchment. But if I did that, those who couldn't see wouldn't think they were invited.
"Perhaps I should send out invitations with raised letters engraved on tablets of the finest gold. Then the blind could feel the invitations with their hands. But if I did that, those who were poor would think no one who would send such expensive invitations would want them to come to the banquet.
"I know. I won't send out written invitations at all. Instead, I'll send runners to dash across the land and shout out the invitation as they go. But if I do that, those who are in any way weak or crippled will think only the able-bodied can come to the banquet."
For a long time, the Host pondered the problem of how to invite everyone to sit at the banquet table. "There must be some way," the Host thought. "There must be something I can do to make sure everyone knows they're invited."
Finally, a smile brightened the Host's face. Then, running through the door of the exquisite banquet chamber, the Host entered the perfect place from which to personally deliver the invitations.
And the invitations to the banquet rang out far and wide from the manger of a stable, in the unimportant town of Bethlehem.
It was time.
Yes, it was time for the banquet to begin.
The floor of the Fellowship Hall had been washed and waxed until it shined like the sun itself. Each folding table had been transformed into something quite beyond itself by graceful folds of the finest white linen. On each table the best china, the finest silver, and the clearest crystal stood ready to welcome those who would come to the banquet.
The most wonderful smells floated through the air from the kitchen. And as the members solemnly entered, the smells generated a look of intense satisfaction on each face: satisfaction which indicated their silent, but very real anticipation of the feast in which they were about to partake.
Each member stood by their assigned place at the table. Then the minister's voice arose in solemn blessing: "We thank you, O God, for the good gifts which you've prepared: gifts which we're about to give to ourselves..."
"Hey! Wait a minute! Somebody's missing!"
Those words interrupted the minister's weighty speech. They came from a small child who was seated at a middle table.
"What do you mean?" the minister demanded. "Who's missing? I counted everyone on the way downstairs. I even looked in the pews in case someone fell asleep during the sermon. Everyone who's important is here."
"You don't get it," the child shot back. "Don't you remember what Jesus said? We're supposed to invite others to join in the banquet. We're supposed to look for those no one cares about. We're supposed to find people who can never do anything for us in return. Then we're supposed to bring them to the banquet and sit them down at the head table."
"No! No! We couldn't ever do a thing like that," the minister replied. "What would the neighbors think? Now, let's sit down and eat."
"But wait," the child interrupted again. "Jesus didn't make this optional. Jesus didn't say, 'When you give a dinner, I'd really like it if you'd invite a few poor people.' Jesus said, 'When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.' "
A hush fell over the crowd, for they knew the child was right. And rushing out the door, they went into nursing homes and tenements, and alleys and taverns. And when they found someone who was hungry, or old and alone, or injured, or poor, they invited them to the banquet.
Later, they realized their church had begun to grow on that very day. Its pews were filled, and its classrooms were packed. At one time some would've declared many of its members to be one of those other people. Now they welcomed all as children of God.
No one was surprised, of course, that a child had shown them all the way. How could they be surprised? For they knew the first invitation to the banquet came from a baby in the stable of Bethlehem.
It is time.
Yes, it is time for the banquet to begin.
It begins every time we come before this table -- for even when the bread and wine are absent, this table reminds us of the joyful feast of the people of God. It reminds us of the day we will be gathered from north and south and east and west. It reminds us we will one day sit at table in the kingdom of God.
But there are places at the table still waiting to be filled. The instructions came long ago on how to fill them: "When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind."
These instructions aren't optional. They call on us not just to welcome those who are outcast. Instead, they call us to intimately invite them into our lives and into our hearts. Christ calls us to work toward fulfilling those instructions. Christ calls us to gather those who are the most outcast, and to gladly welcome them to the table.
And when we do, we will see in our midst a foretaste: a foretaste of the banquet -- the banquet whose invitations came from a poor stable in the unimportant town of Bethlehem.
Frank R. Fisher is a second-career interim/transitional pastor in the Presbyterian Church (USA). He currently serves as the interim pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Bushnell, Illinois. A former paramedic and administrator for the Chicago Fire Department, Fisher is an Oblate of the ecumenical Abbey of John the Baptist and Saint Benedict in Bartonville, Illinois.
Sex Is a Turn-Off
Timothy F. Merrill
Let mutual love continue.
Hebrews 13:1
You've seen the ads.
The car is red, sleek, and sexy. We know it's sexy because of the bikini draped over the hood with a blond babe barely in it.
Same for the Harley. Great-looking motorcycle, with an even greater-looking leggy bimbo who's ready to shift, if not strip, your gears.
Using sex to sell products is old news. We've come to expect it. Even furniture ads often feature a long-haired beauty whose "come hither" look has been honed to perfection.
Research shows, however, that Americans may be getting tired of this ploy. We're learning that consumers prefer images of love when considering a product over images of sex. Selling cars? Then you'd better know that consumers prefer the love image to the sex gimmick by 32 percent to 15 percent. For furniture, it's 38 percent to 10 percent. Appliances, it's 35 percent to 8 percent. As for all the other consumers, they couldn't care less one way or another. ("Where's the Lovin'?" American Demographics, February 2001)
It's simple. Americans prefer the love connection. We admire companies that promote traditional values. Even the younger audience is attracted to messages that push the love-marketing approach. This is not true for the audience that is making more than $75,000 a year. They tend to be more cynical about wet-hanky, tear-yanking commercials. But for the rest of the audience, you produce a three-hanky commercial about love, and you'll sell your product.
Perhaps your vulnerability to love-marketing is affected by whether you're in a committed relationship. Maybe. Forty-nine percent of those who are not in any romantic relationship respond to images of sex compared to 28 percent of those in a committed relationship. On the other hand, 64 percent of those in just a casual relationship are more likely to buy a product pandered by love than one pimped by sex.
It makes sense. Love is what we're looking for. It's what we need more of. It's what the apostle Paul calls "the greatest."
Timothy F. Merrill is the Senior Editor of the preaching journal Homiletics. He has published numerous articles in the religious press and in academic journals, and he is the author of Learning to Fall: A Guide for the Spiritually Clumsy (Chalice Press). Merrill is an ordained United Church of Christ minister who has served churches in Colorado, Minnesota, and Oregon. This piece appears in the CSS volume Lectionary Tales for the Pulpit (Series IV, Cycle C).
**********************************************
How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply email the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
**************
StoryShare, September 2, 2007, issue.
Copyright 2007 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
