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congregation

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When they don’t get it

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I’m studying education. I know there is a world of difference between what is to be taught (the curriculum, of sorts), what is taught (what you think you’re saying) and what is learnt (what people  keep from it).

mindthegap

Photo: zimpenfish, reused under CC license

From what I hear, the discrepancy between the latter two is something that preachers experience. A lot. The stories of people going up to the preacher telling them: “I loved that part about how we should not tithe if we don’t feel like it. God loves a cheerful giver indeed”, when the sermon was explaining why we should be cheerful about giving. Or “I  loved how you explained how Catholics are heretics”, when you were actually trying to explain they weren’t.

These discrepancies are often frustrating. As pastors, teachers of sorts, we have a responsibility to make sure that we communicate efficiently, and a responsibility to ensure that what we are trying to say is heard. When that doesn’t happen, we may feel like we have failed. But that view is one I wish to challenge, because it puts the preacher as the sole mediator of the Word: it suggests that everything that the congregation will hear will need to have been pre-digested by the leadership team.

Last Sunday, someone came to me to talk about my sermon from the week before, telling me about how it connected with his experience and that he felt that the person in the pulpit was actually understanding how they were feeling. “Great!”, I thought, a bit full of myself. And then he went on to describe the specifics of his situation, which was as far removed as what I had in mind when writing the sermon as possible! I was talking about fear of the unknown, he was talking about repeated stress.

Should I take this as a sign that my sermon was a failure? Quite the opposite. I take it as a positive sign: a sign that my sermon was aligned with the Word enough that it could just gently guide people to and through the passage, but crucially, that it was the passage that did all the work. The Bible is greater than all of us. That’s why we read it more than just the once, and that’s why we connect to it in different ways; and, for preachers, that’s why we shouldn’t aim to possess it, or to box it in.

To put it in a different way, it is the gap between Scripture and the congregation’s lives that needs to be closed; in priority over the gap between the preacher and the congregation. The gap between what is to be taught and what is learnt; in priority over the gap between what is taught and what is learnt. Of course, the two often work together; but if someone in the congregation is brought closer to the Word through a different path than us, let us still rejoice over it rather than try to bring them back to our way! As long, of course, as they do connect with the ultimate Truth (which may not be the case in the examples given at the start…)

And it feels great! Because through that, we are reminded that, on the one hand, the transformative or exhortative power does not come from us, so that we as preachers may feel anxious about nothing; and that on the other hand, what we’re saying matters and connects with people!

What’s your experience of people not getting it?

Signposts to heaven

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In our church, we use this piece of liturgy (which, apparently, comes from the Iona community):

Make our congregations places of radical discipleship, and signposts to heaven.

signpost

Photo: Lairich Rig, reused under CC License

Radical discipleship means at the same time more and less than what may be ascribed to it. But that’s not what I want to focus on today; it’s the second half: “signposts to heaven“. I only recently realised the depth that this prayer contains. Here are a few thoughts on it:

Signposting means being visible. It means that our congregation needs to be put on a lampstand so that it is visible to others. Simply in being visible, we can be an encouragement to others, in the same way that a signpost on the side of the road can encourage people and let them know they are on the right track, and that the destination in fact exists and is known to the congregation.

Signposting is to somewhere. Far from being an end in itself, the church and the congregational aspect of church life in particular, is only a place to grow. If your going to church is simply part of a stable pattern – if you’re not experiencing growth, then you might just be pausing at the signpost, catching your breath. And the signpost, the congregation, is a safe place to do so, because you will know which way to move from there. But if you’re not expecting growth, then you may be doing it wrong.

Signposts have some information on them. There would be little point in having a signpost with simply a multitude of arrows (if even that!) without anything written on them. Just look at the photo: doesn’t the arrow pointing towards us look odd? Let us be bold in proclaiming the coming of the Kingdom; and (to use another bit of the same piece of liturgy) in expectation that the best is yet to come, be truly Christ-like.

The signposts in the liturgy are to heaven. It means that our congregations should evoke heaven to people: that in our churches, people should be reminded of heaven. That means that God should be visible in the way we live: it’s not just about being nice and spurring each other on to be better people, it’s about becoming, congregationally, Christ-like and allowing Christ to shine through us.

A final thought on this issue: it is a prayer for congregations. It doesn’t go Make us signposts to heaven, although that might also be a good prayer to say. It asks more, and demands less: it asks for unity in individual humility. It asks that together, we make up that signpost for others; and to do that, we all must point in the same direction. But it does not seek our own glorification as individual disciples, or demand that we get an instant revelation of heaven so that we can individually point in the right direction (and usher in those who clearly have had a distorted vision).

One thing’s for sure, next time I say this prayer, it will have taken on a much deeper meaning.

Do you have a prayer you particularly like?