#good preaching

[writingsbynh]

Hell

To live in a world where immorality is likeable

And morals are dishonorable

A world that hates good

But rejoices in evil

- NH

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Trying to write the world the way I see it. 🤎🤍🖤 💖 female poet, with lots of soul 💖 have an idea?...

[sundaynightservice]

Honey and locusts

a meal for preaching God's word

repentance and love,

two by two hand in hand, faith

opens gates of promise land.

.

D W Eldred

[buggie-hagen]

Bad preaching either simply tells the story of Jesus, focuses on laws for people to fulfill, or plays on their emotions. Good preaching proclaims that this Christ is “for you” and brings about comfort and joy.

~Timothy Wengert, Word of Life: Introducing Lutheran Hermeneutics, 63.

[flowofwisdom]

How Satan Is Out to Destroy You (Pastor Charles Lawson)

Wednesday (Night) Preaching: Oct 29 2014

Steps Satan Uses Against Us; God’s Promises For Us; Qualities of the Spiritual Christian Restoring One Fallen. Scripture: I Peter 5:7-11

Website: http://pastorcharleslawson.org/

1 Peter 5 (King James Version)

6 Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you…

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[samuelatgilgal]

GOOD PREACHING

Charles H. Spurgeon:

“Oh, Beloved, if we are called to preach, we must believe what we preach, or else we had better give it up! “I believed, therefore have I spoken,” is a text which should be written over every minister’s study door, and over his pulpit, too.” (1893, Sermon #2297)

“Some sermons which I have heard, though faultlessly orthodox, have contained nothing that could convert…

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[hillarykobernickpoetry-blog]

Why the Church Needs Slam Poetry

I dug up this piece that I wrote earlier this year when I gave a sermon at my church. The text I preached was Matthew 4:12-23. It's a beast of a post, but this is for all y'all who have ever wondered, "Why the fuck does poetry matter, anyway?" 

For me, poetry is a theological issue. Poetry is... not exactly popular. And even within poetry generally, the spoken word scene is what you call a niche market. But these days, so is the church.

The church needs spoken word poetry, for four reasons. I get to the first by way of Todd Alcott's poem "Television."

This poem is called “Television.” It could be called a myriad of other things: “iPod.” “Xbox 360.” “NASCAR.” Or if it had been written in the Middle East around year 0, it might be called “The Roman Empire.” “Caesar’s soldiers.” “The Fishing Industry.” Whatever it is that distracts you from the messy, beautiful work of being human and being Christian.

Matthew is the story of how four regular, go-about-my-business men became radical followers of an alternative vision for humanity. The narrative is wildly understated. Jesus says, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” That’s it. That’s all he says. Some scholars believe the men had probably already seen or heard about this crazy Jesus man and were curious about him. Others debate that claim. But whether or not they knew him, Jesus must have spoken very convincingly in order to get them to leave, as v.22 says, “Immediately.”

Reason #1 is partly about how we say things that are true. But it’s also about how we listen. And how we want people to listen to us. What comes after chapter 4? The Sermon on the Mount. Jesus’ mission statement.

Matthew 4 is the setup to that important message. Before Jesus can lay out his vision, he has to make sure he has your attention. He has to counter the persistent voice of the metaphoric television: Look at me! Look at me. Look at me. And instead to say: Look at your neighbor. Love your neighbor. Become a peacemaker.

And when you’re saying something like that, you don’t want to have a “Life of Brian” moment. You know, where the two people are arguing and about “blessed are the cheesemakers.” (“Why not the whole dairy industry?”)

This is where the church learns from slam poetry (and Jesus). Jesus must have been a great orator. And I think every great orator has a little bit of slam poet. Okay, that’s anachronistic; maybe it’s the other way around. But the point is this: slam poets know how to make people listen. Todd Alcott makes the audience listen.

A poetry slam is a competitive poetry reading. There are three rules: poets must read original work; no props or costumes; and, all poems must fit in a three-minute time limit.

Three minutes!? The Sermon on the Mount is a lot longer than three minutes; it’s three chapters! What can you possibly say in three minutes? But wait. For us, a more appropriate question is What can I possibly listen to for three minutes?

When was the last time you listened to the same person speak for three minutes? It doesn’t happen on TV. Even most news spots are less than three minutes.

You can say a lot in three minutes, as long as people are listening. I have heard whole theologies in poems; I have heard autobiographies; I have heard an entire family tree; I have heard a lifetime, from birth to death, in a three-minute poem.

The church has a vested interest in getting people to attend poetry slams. If you can get your parishioners to a poem for three minutes, how much better will they listen to your sermons?

So: Reason #1: Slam poetry teaches us how to listen.

Reason #2: Spoken word matters because poetry matters. 

There are two creation accounts in Genesis, chapter 1 and chapter 2, but you’ll find both include poetry as if to suggest there are some things that cannot be done without becoming art. The creation of humanity cannot be done without becoming art.

The biblical writers knew poetry mattered. That’s why 1/3 of the Old Testament is poetry. In the Old Testament, most of the poetry is tucked alongside and even inside the prophetic books. Poetry is deeply related to the work of the prophets.

So we come to Reason #3: Poetry matters because it is the best expression of what Walter Brueggemann calls “the prophetic imagination.”

The role of the poet is very similar to that of the Christian. The poet’s job is to cling tight to the hope of a better world. To do the hard work of imagining this broken world into a healed, reconciled place. To remind us that we still hold out hope for a place like Eden, that the empire, the oppressive world of power, poverty, destruction, what have you—that world doesn’t get the last word.

Except unlike Christians, poets are allowed to curse more. They can call it like see it, with the whole of language at the fingertips. Unlike pastors, most slam poets aren’t getting paid by…anyone. They’re just broke. And the great advantage of being broke is that you’re not accountable to popular opinion. That leaves poets free to speak truths that the people may not want to hear.

Poetry, on the other hand, is the discipline of telling the truth, even though you disguise it in metaphors and lies to get there.

A good poet is a terrible liar. Poetry requires an incredible honesty.

When I’m speaking a poem, I have to be honest about hard things—about my relationship with eating disorders or about my first kiss. Even in poems like Todd Alcott’s poem, “Television,” which is a persona poem—Alcott takes on the persona of the television. He’s not a TV. But he acts like it and is able to tell the truth about it through that lie.

And that truth telling opens up space for someone else to say, “yes, I’ve heard my television say that to me before” or “yes, I’ve struggled with eating disorders, too.” Or “yes, the LORD is my hope. Who shall I fear?” (Ps. 27:1)

When I was living in Seattle, the poetry slam started felt like church. When people tell that kind of deeply personal story, you get to know them really fast, their pain and their celebration and their sorrow.

Which brings me to the fourth point: spoken word is that it’s not just spoken, it’s heard. You need an audience. Because of the nature of what you’re saying, the powerful stories you as a poet tell, the audience quickly becomes a community. And because you are listening in community, it creates a space for dialogue.

A poetry slam is not a lecture. You, as an audience member, are a participant. My job as a poet is the same as a comedian—to draw you so deep into the story that it evokes a response—whether that is a laugh, a sigh, a gasp, or even tears. The poet’s work is to tell stories that are so important they will evoke that response.

An open mic becomes like the farmer’s market; it’s one of our “new town squares.” It’s a place where people gather and become community. A poetry slam, at its best, is a place where you go and listen to a prophetic message with a community of people.

Isn’t that what the church is trying to be? A community of listeners in a deep relationship with each other? And isn’t that how we form relationships? By listening to each other’s stories?

At a poetry slam, you get to know people by getting to know their stories. And that creates a kind of intimacy that creates is something the church should be jealous of.

Stanley Hauerwas calls the church “story-formed community.” At a slam, as poets come and go, you see story-formed community in action.

So that’s reason number 4. Spoken word poetry creates the kind of community the church seeks to create.

Am I saying poetry is a tool for evangelism? Can we use it to grow churches? Should we?

Well, if we think this Jesus story is so convincing, if we’re willing to throw down our lives and follow him, if we think this story is worth telling, then maybe we should be more intentional about how we tell it. If we have something worth saying, than maybe we should learn to say it like a poet, like how Jesus said it: so convincingly that people can’t help but listen.

Again, my four reasons:

#1: Poetry is about how you say what matters; and how you listen to what matters. 

#2 Spoken word matters because poetry matters. 

#3 Poetry matters because it is the most important conduit for the prophetic imagination. 

#4 Poetry creates the kind of story-formed community the church seeks to create.

You can take my word for it. But better yet, find yourself some poetry.

A prophetic church must be able to speak with authority. We must be able to tell the stories that matter. And so perhaps we should make a greater effort to learn from those who are doing it well.