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September, 2013

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When is a sermon not a sermon?

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“That wasn’t a sermon” – that’s a criticism I’ve heard about sermons a few times (including my own). We all have ideas about what a sermon should be. Why? What makes a sermon sermon-like?

The Oxford English Dictionary gives some ideas: it is, for our context, a talk on Christianity. In written form, it could then, be this blog. But this blog is not a collection of sermons – with the exception of two posts. Let’s read a bit further: it suggests sermons are long and tedious.

sermon

Image: Wikipedia (Public domain)

Maybe we shouldn’t complain, then, when we don’t hear a sermon. More seriously, though, there is one thing that makes a sermon a sermon: that it is given as part of  a church service. In other words, that it has the label “sermon” all over it (after all, podcasts of sermons are still sermons). So if you heard it at church, it is a sermon. The thing is, a church service is a full and well crafted (hopefully) set of parts, whose aim is worship and edification. A church service is not simply a sermon with some padding around it, nor is it some liturgy with a homily thrown in the middle: it is a dynamic set with a purpose. So a sermon should fit into that set and lead the audience (and the preacher!) to be imitators of Christ, rekindle in them a passion for God and open their hearts. If that’s missing, then it might as well be a secular talk!

Bible based?

That a sermon is not “Bible based” is the big argument of those who say “That is not a (good) sermon”. As if being Bible-based were the only hallmark of a good sermon! Matthew Henry’s commentary is Bible-based – very much so, indeed – but it’s not a sermon. Because it is looking at the Bible as an object to be studied, rather than as a source that  talks to us. Those last two word are important, because this is where we remember that a sermon takes place with an audience.

The most useful tip I’ve heard so far for sermon-writing is this: “Can you tell me in one sentence what you are trying to achieve with this sermon?” It’s not about what point we might be driving through the sermon, it is about recognising the transformative nature of a relationship with Christ and mediating that to the congregation, as best as we can.

Sometimes, that goes through close exegesis. Sometimes that goes through less Biblical sources – talking, say, about the Internet is hard to do when you’re Bible-bound. And so, as long as the aim remains firmly to get people’s hearts turned towards God, then I don’t think being Bible-based is a necessity for a sermon. In most cases, it helps. In some cases, it is even necessary because the sermon will be the only time in the week the congregation touches the Bible. Still, as a hard-and-fast rule, it detracts and leads to cherry-picking some verses to “make a sermon Bible-based”, when all the sermon does is drive a pre-determined point. And when that happens, well, it’s a bit of a scam.

So remember: a sermon takes place in a specific context. It is by that context that it can be judged – not independently of it. And sometimes, the surprise of a new type of sermon might do just what a sermon should do: refresh our love for God.

 

A New Chapter

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In many British universities, this week sees the arrival of young impressionable students. For them, sixth form is over and a new life is about to start. International students are about to live a whole lot of new experiences, meet new people. For some of them, it’s just a bracket – an exchange year which is intercalated within their normal degree. A pause of sorts.

Less than a month ago, it was my life that saw what many could term the beginning of a new chapter. I moved from England to the Parisian suburbs, stopped being a student and started teaching. Well, technically, I’m still a student until my final exams, and I only just finished writing the thesis, but let’s not nitpick.

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Photo: Brian0918, under CC liicense

Such changes happen all the time. You might be getting a mortgage for a new house, and close the chapter of your tenant years. You might be expecting a child, or getting married, or moving to a new job. It feels like the old you dies and a new you is ready to take his place. And when you like the old you, you don’t want to let go. I didn’t want to let go.

But here’s the thing: if you’re a Christian, you should not see it as the end of an era. It is not the death of the old you. Here’s why:

  • your identity is not in what you were doing in the old chapter. Your identity is in Christ, and everything else is rubbish compared to that. Are you so insecure in your Christian identity that you think it can die?
  • while we’re on the subject of death to your old self: this is true. You died to your old self, and are now living as a new creation. Are you willing to compare your change of circumstances to your coming to faith?
  • don’t you understand you have everlasting life? If you think of that merely in biological terms, you are missing the point. It is you – it is I – who live forever. Your likes and dislikes. My personality. All turned towards Christ.
  • and even if you feel you can’t hold on to that identity, well, you’re right. You can’t. But God does, and He has called you by name. That identity can never die.

And on top of that, you are taking with you all your experience from the chapter you thought was over. It’s not. Right now, is its continuation. Sure, there are friends you’ll slowly get out of touch with, and your circumstances have changed. But your actions build on your experience. If you think you are turning over a completely new leaf, you are forgetting yourself… and you are paving the way for doing the same thing with your current circumstances: making them useless and unattached to you.

Just don’t. And remember: seasons follow each other, they don’t happen in random order; and there is a season for everything.

A new temple

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Our bodies are temples. I’ve heard that many times, more often than not to tell me off for eating unhealthy food, or self-righteously from people abstaining from caffeine, alcohol or other substances; or even for those encouraging me to exercise more. Let me be clear here: healthy food is good. Exercise (in moderation) is good. Abstention from caffeine is only good when the beverage concerned is coffee. But not because our bodies are temples and should therefore receive due reverence.

After all, it is not what comes into man that defiles him, but what comes out of it. In a time where the self-righteous were those following the letter of the Mosaic Law, this means pork does not defile you! In a time where the self-righteous are those who have healthy habits, this means that unhealthy food does not defile us. Not even the new temple that our bodies are.

temple

Photo: Ian Scott, reused under CC license

So what does it mean that our bodies are new temples?

  • They are a meeting place with God. The body is not our enemy. Samuel heard the call from God inside the temple; it can be much the same with our bodies. It isn’t the exclusive place to meet with God, though: Elijah heard God in a mountain.
  • They are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. Let me stress that: our bodies – not our spirits, our souls, our minds, or whatever other airy thing we could come up with – our bodies are the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. The presence here is physical, tangible and all-encompassing. It is an awesome thing that the Holy Spirit is worldily present – not just someone we can pray through and who dwells in heaven, disconnected from us.
  • They should be listened to. Tiredness is not unnatural. When our bodies fail, or are in disrepair, resources should be allocated to mend them. Rest. It is quite puzzling how a principle established at the very start of the Bible leads us to feel so much guilt sometimes; but resting is good.
  • It is cause for celebration! There’s no need to go to the temple to pray or to meet with God, it can happen right here. Our bodies cannot be taken away from us; much less the Spirit. Wherever we are, we can be constantly renewed, directed and sanctified by this presence.
  • Much like the temple was destroyed and its riches taken away to Babylon, we can do the same with our physical selves: waste away our gifts chasing some idol or other. We can use all our strength chasing some job, some situation. Yes, our talents will be employed in such cases, and yes, they will adorn what we do – but this is not what they were meant for. And just like it was for the temple in Jerusalem, those riches can be brought back.
  • Our bodies are dedicated to God. Not just our mind, not just our finance – our entire body. Their function is to serve, through our every move, God. It is part of their very nature.
  • They were designed according to specific plans. We, in our bodily form, are designed to reflect God’s glory.
  • They are what makes us holy! Ascetism might be what some of us are called to, but denying the body because it, somehow, is the source of all evil, is denying a large part of our own calling and blessed nature. In doing so, we fail to take hold of our role as a royal priesthood: without a temple, there can be no priesthood.

I’m not sure that’s the point the Apostle was trying to make. The context is one of sexual immorality and makes it very clear that it is only sexual immorality that can defile the new temple. So it is also clear that it is not about what we eat or how much we exercise. But taking hold of the idea that our bodies are temples, the dwelling places of the Holy Spirit – something which the Apostle seemed to be taking as read – leads to all that I said above.

So celebrate your body, regardless of over-, under- or just-the-right-weight, regardless of its current ailments. If you see it as the temple for the Holy Spirit, there is simply no way not to!

The guilt of the secular worker

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I’ve heard this many times: being a Christian is an all-encompassing calling which takes precedence over everything. I’ve preached this message, too. The message sometimes becomes a slogan:

  • Church is not just for Sunday.
  • You should join a small group.
  • Too busy to pray? Too busy NOT to pray, more likely.
  • Preach the gospel in your workplace.
  • Jesus wants your everything – not just when you have time for it.

guilt

The list could go on. And all of these things are true: if your Christian identity is restricted to attending a church service on a Sunday, then maybe you’re missing the point. But let’s take that very notion further: being Christian is not simply about attending church. It’s not simply about attending church activities throughout the week either. Of course, small groups are helpful. Prayer meetings are helpful. Evangelism in the workplace is helpful. Yes, a thousand times yes. But church and church activities are not the only way in which this can happen. Explicit, intentional action is not the only way in which evangelism can happen.

And I know that the people who express the all-encompassing nature of the calling to be a Christian in the ways I described above mean well, but we often fail to consider how it can be perceived:

  • You’re not a proper Christian if you only go to church stuff on a Sunday
  • You’re not in a small group? Clearly you have no desire to grow your faith.
  • Too busy to come to our weekly prayer meeting? Sort out your priorities!
  • Actively evangelise at every single opportunity. If what you’re saying is not linked to the Gospel, it must be that you are ashamed of your faith.
  • So you don’t have time to take on admin for church/prepare intercession/lead the worship this week? Come on, surely church is more important than whatever else you’ve got to do!

Of course we don’t mean this – or at least I hope we don’t! But the problem is: we generally say these things in a church context, and so all the expressions of our Christian identity get linked with church activities. Thereby, the secular worker may feel their job is worth less than anything they may contribute to the church.

But callings are not just callings to the ministry. People get called to secular jobs! Or to build a family! And there is a reason for that; if your job or your family needs your attention, neglecting either of those in favour of church activities would be denying your own calling! If you are choosing church activities – even outside of Sunday – over your calling, you are paying lip service to the lie that Christianity only happens in church or intentionally!

So feel free to say no to extra church stuff without guilt. Because in saying no to church stuff, you might well be saying yes to what God has called you to; and that is submission to His will. That is an expression of Christian identity. And that identity will pervade in many, many different ways – your own form of prayer. Your own evangelism – perhaps through simple acts of service. Your own leadership. All of them held together by love.

For us and for our salvation

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It is no news that I love liturgy. Or rather, I love being excited about liturgy: I love the passion that still transpires through prayers crafted centuries ago. The Nicene creed has probably been said by billions of people (in various forms and languages) and is an example of such a powerful prayer. I’ll focus on one line:

For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven.

nicene

Icon of the Nicene Creed in the public domain

For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven! It’s not abstract! It’s not “For the world”, or “for humanity”. The original Greek actually starts with “For us humans” – making it clear that “us” is not simply a byword for an abstract concept, but something deeply and utterly personal and communal. The same goes for “our salvation”, where the Greek ἡμετέραν is the emphatic form of “our” (although, admittedly, this form is far more frequent than its non-emphatic counterpart ἡμῶν).

More than that: it is for us and for our salvation that Jesus came down from heaven. Jesus did not simply come to be nailed upon a cross and provide salvation. No, he came first for usRedemption is not a cold, mechanical adjustment of a cosmic balance sheet. Penal substitution, without love, is nothing. There is a tendency, especially in evangelical circles, to focus too much on sin and thereby on the need for salvation through atonement. This focus is backwards: his love comes first. “For us” comes first, because it is only in the light of this love that the cross can  begin to make sense.

The Nicene Creed does not say “For our sanctification and for our salvation”, either. The Incarnation is Jesus coming down from heaven, to meet us where we are. This isn’t about meeting the potential, sanctified person we will end up being – no, it is about meeting us in the here and now.

But the Nicene Creed does not stop at saying “For us” – it recognises the importance of atonement. “For us” is where Christ meets us, “for our salvation” is where he takes us. In saying the Creed, we should be taken by this movement and filled with a hope that has no bound – a hope of salvation, grounded in the intimate knowledge of Christ’s love.

Next time you read the Nicene Creed, feel the passion and the involvement it invites: from the very first “We believe” to the final agreement “Amen”.