Alice Shirey, pastor in Des Moines IA, responds to our question today:
I come at Scot?s question from a unique perspective. For much of my adult life I sat in the pew; I didn?t stand in the pulpit. I listened to a lot of brilliant preaching that had not one shred of impact on my daily life. I just thought that?s what a sermon was ? Sunday pontificating that never made a dent on Monday. So, when God tapped me on the shoulder at age 35, convinced me I had the gift of teaching and that my gender did not disqualify me from using it to edify our congregation, I vowed that I would preach on Sunday with an eye toward Monday.
Delivering sermons over the last 8 years has allowed me to look lots of folks in the eye as I talk about Christ. God has used that experience to show me this truth: My struggles are theirs. My hurts and failures and wounds, are theirs. My darkness, theirs. My needs, theirs. My questions, theirs. My stories, theirs. In order to create a vibrant intersection between God?s Word and their real lives, I must preach from my real life.
When I try to use the Scriptures to appear scholarly, or holy, or as if I have THE answer to one of life?s most perplexing questions, I see blank stares, tired eyes, and sense a painful disconnect from the folks I am teaching. On the other hand, when I bring Scripture to life through the use of stories, struggles, questions, failure and growth, and an ability to laugh at myself … I find, more often than not, a holy silence falls over the room. A silence that tells me the Spirit is at work; that the honest use of my own life in the sermon allowed windows to open in the souls of the congregation, and the wind of the Spirit blew in.
When I first started preaching I was so concerned that people thought I was “qualified” or that I had some new, incredible insight with which to impress them, that I often taught right over people?s heads. Sunday pontificating that never made a dent on Monday … So, I have learned to leave most of my studious insights on the cutting room floor; they served their purpose in my preparation. And I have learned to not be afraid to be honest about who I am. Of course, there are wise boundaries to this. I don?t want to use the congregation as some kind of cathartic confessional. But, I risk authenticity more and more. And when the holy silence falls … I whisper a prayer, “Speak, God … speak.”
So, what would I focus on? Simply this … Prepare sermons with the Scriptures in one hand, your real life in the other, and a big ol? slice of humble pie on the table. You will rarely find anyone saying or thinking about you, “Well, he/she?s a good preacher, but mainly irrelevant to my life.”