1 A Sermon on Sermons September 1, 2013 Roger Fritts Unitarian Universalist Church of Sarasota The first Sunday in his new church, the new minister did his best to give a strong spirited message that would inspire the congregation. When he finished he sang the closing hymn and walked to the back of the church to shake hands and greet the membership. As he stood there, a church member came up to him and said: "That was the worse sermon I have ever heard." Another church member overheard this comment and felt embarrassed. He wanted to reassure the new minister. So he said, "Don't pay any attention to him. He is not very smart. He never has an original thought. He only repeats what other people say." Martin Luther invented the modern sermon. It was a radical change from the traditional Roman Catholic service. Receiving of communion was the center of Roman Catholic Worship, and the service itself was done in Latin. Luther wanted to make the Bible accessible to the German speaking people of his community. He translated the Bible into German. However, because many people could not read, or could not afford to buy a Bible, this was not enough. Therefore, he removed communion as the central focus of the worship service. He replaced it with a reading from the Bible, in German, followed by a lecture about a Bible passage. The sermon was an imitation of a university lecture with the subject being the Bible. To express visually that he was giving an academic lecture, Luther did away with the colorful vestments of the priests. He replaced these with the same clothing worn by medieval university professors--a simple black robe. Today in the dictionary "sermon" is defined as a formal reprimand. "Sermonize" is defined as moralizing at length. "Preach" is defined as giving advice in a moralizing manner. "Preachify" is defined as speaking monotonously. "Preachment" is defined as a dull moral lecture, and "preachy" is defined as sanctimonious talk. After reading the dictionary I was amazed that anyone ever comes to church! Even clergy have expressed skepticism about sermons. Bishop Gerald Kennedy defined a sermon as "something a minister will not walk across the street to hear, but will go across the country to deliver." There is truth to these negative views of preaching. Yet before we adjourn for coffee hour, I would like to say a few words in defense of sermons. In spite of all the negative connotations, sermons remain amazingly popular in the United States. On an average Sunday there are more than 63 million people in the United States attending church, listening to sermons.
In surveys 90 percent of Unitarian Universalists list the ability to give intellectually stimulating sermons as the most important skill they want in a minister. People who do not attend church tell researchers that the number one thing that would bring them back to church is a stimulating sermon. But what makes for a stimulating sermon? Each of us answers this question in our own way. Speaking only for myself, there are eight ingredients I look for in a sermon. First, I want the minister to take a position on an issue. I don't always expect to agree with the minister, but by the end of the sermon I want to know what the minister believes. For example, if the sermon is about God, I want to know how the minister defines God. I want to know whether the minister believes in God. I want to know why he or she takes this position. For me this is a major difference between a university lecture and a sermon. Unlike a lecture the sermon contains a testimony of belief, a statment of a position. Second, I want the minister to speak out of personal experience. Hundreds of times I have observed myself as I am listening to a sermon. I pay closest attention when the speaker refers to a personal experience. I remember several years ago hearing a talk at a General Assembly, the annual meeting of Unitarian Universalists. I was in a room without windows. The hall was packed with three hundred ministers. It was late in the afternoon. The talk, by a respected minister who had worked on the staff of the Unitarian Universalist Association, was on power. The room smelled of air-conditioned air. The lights were hard, white neon. The talk was abstract. I found myself daydreaming and I could see and feel that many people around me showed signs of loss of interest. Suddenly the speaker began to describe the difference between two recent presidents of the Unitarian Universalist Association in how they used power and how people perceived them to use power. As the speaker described this her personal experience, the shift in the mood of the room was dramatic. Heads went up. People moved in their seats. People in the room were suddenly paying attention. The sharing of personal experience made all the difference. Over the years I have heard ministers criticized for their use of personal experiences in sermons. I have heard the complaint that when the minister says the word "I" in a sermon it is a sign that she or he is self-centered and egocentric. I think in this reproach there is a basic misunderstanding of liberal ministry. A Unitarian Universalist minister has no other basis of authority. Unlike our orthodox colleagues (who say "we believe" or "God says" or "the truth is"), Unitarian Universalist ministers are left with only our own experience. I suggest that when a minister says "I had the following experience" it is not an act of self-centeredness, but an act of humility. My first wish is that the minister take a stand. My second wish is that the preacher speak out of personal experience. Third, I want stories. I remember a sermon called "He took the wrong bus." The minister told the 2
story of a man who went to the New York city bus station to go to Baltimore. By mistake he took the bus to Philadelphia. In Philadelphia man got off the bus thinking that he was in Baltimore. The man wandered the streets confused, trying to find his way but for the longest time he did not realize, could not admit that he had made a mistake way back at the very beginning of the trip he had taken the wrong bus. After telling this story, the minister said to his congregation, "This happens to us sometimes in our lives. We invest our time and our energy into something, we work hard at it and we are convinced that we are going in the right direction and we are unable to admit to ourselves that we took the wrong bus. This happens to individuals, and it sometimes happens to leaders of nations. Good people, with good intentions, sometimes take the wrong bus." Then the minister said nearly 50 years ago, "This is what has happened in Vietnam. President Johnson has will very good intentions, put our nation on the wrong bus. We have traveled a long way and it is hard to admit that we are on the wrong bus." A good story stays with me. I still remember this sermon nearly 50 years after I heard it. Of course stories are not scientific, and it is a logical error to generalize based on one experience. Schools teach scientists to shun conclusions coming from single experiences and to look for evidence based on many cases. However, ministers seek out stories as a way of capturing attention and of highlighting a point. If nothing is real to a science researcher except as it happens to a significant number of people, nothing is real to a preacher save as it happens to a single person. So I want the speaker to take a stand, I want the sermon rooted in personal experiences, and I want stories. Fourth, I want simplicity. In the seminary I attended, after every practice sermon, my teacher would lean back in his chair, stretch his legs and ask in a low key way: "If you could put that sermon into one sentence what would it be?" Each week I ask myself, What is the central message of the sermon? Why is the message important? What is my position on the message? Does the message relate to the congregation? How is the message original? Where is the depth of the message? Is the message aesthetically appealing? The intent of the questions is to create a sermon that is clear, in touch with the congregation, grounded in reality, and that gives a new slant, a new twist, a new meaning to an issue. Fifth, I want the minister to be authentic. Authenticity comes over time. It has something to do with consistency. For example, if a speaker says that we should all love one another, but bitterly makes fun of someone different than himself, I distrust him. If a speaker says we should have the courage of our convictions, but avoids taking stands on unpopular issues, I distrust her. No single event, no one incident is the deciding factor. Over several years of encounters I come to trust that 3
4 the minister is sincere and honest. I want authenticity in a sermon. Sixth, I want affirmation. I want to hear that the minister believes life is worth all the trouble that goes into it. I want the speaker to tell me, that with all my faults, I am still a good person, and that I am loved. A result, often in sermons I encourage you to appreciate the beauty of nature, the joy of music, and the uplifting feeling when you exchange a smile with a friend. These positive experiences can cause us to rejoice that we are alive. Each week I try to find ways to affirm all of you, to affirm that in spite of all of its difficulties life is worth living. Seventh, I enjoy humor in a sermon. According to some studies, public speaking is a stressful experience. Many people say that they are more afraid of public speaking than they are of dying. This is a high level of stress. Given this stress, both speaker and audience do better with a little laughter. A strong position, personal experiences, stories, simplicity, authenticity, affirmation and humor, these are seven elements I look for in a sermon. But there is one more to complete my list. I want a clear delivery. Research shows that people make their decision about whether they like a talk based 7 percent on content, 38 percent on the sound of the minister's voice, and 55 percent on whether they like the minister's face. In other words, evidence suggests that what is most important in an average audience is the minister's facial expression. Next in importance is the speaker's tone of voice. Only after a person becomes comfortable with the minister's face and voice will they turn their attention to the message. Like it or not, to be an effective communicator, a speaker must practice his or her delivery. A minister must speak clearly, acknowledge the presence of the congregation with eye contact, and smile when appropriate. There is, however, a problem with being too good with delivery. When a minister is a charismatic preacher, people no longer come to church to participate in a religious community. Instead they come to worship the minister. The Nineteenth century preacher, Henry Ward Beecher cleared away the pulpit in his church and replaced it with a runway that went between the pews. The new arrangement brought him physically closer to the congregation and made for a dramatic sermon as he moved back and forth. Beecher was a great entertainer when it came to sermons and people came just to see him preach. But one Sunday Henry was sick. His brother, Thomas, substituted for Henry. Disappointed, people began to depart the church. Seeing this, Thomas announced: "All those who came here to worship Henry Ward Beecher may now withdraw--all who came to worship God may remain!"
No healthy church is built around the preaching of one person. A smile exchanged between two of you on a Sunday morning is more important than the most charismatic preacher. This is what I want from a sermon: First, I want the minister to take a thoughtful position on an issue. Second, I want the minister to speak out of personal experience. Third, I want stories. Fourth I want intellectual depth and simplicity. Fifth, I want the minister to be authentic, to be genuine, to be honest. Sixth, I want affirmation. Seventh, I want humor. And eighth, I want a good delivery. Few sermons achieve all eight in a single Sunday. As T.S. Eliot said "each venture is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate with shabby equipment always deteriorating in the general mess of imprecision of feeling." Failure is inevitable. Still, you keep coming on Sunday, and I appreciate it. I have preached in the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, England, Scotland and Romania. Everywhere I have found people alert and willing to listening. In my years in the ministry I have only spotted one of you carrying a portable TV into the worship service. In any event, I am finished for this morning. Because I hope to do this for a few more years, it is important that I pace myself and not tell you everything I know in one sermon. So, until next week, thanks for listening. 5