I struggled all last week to write my sermon for this
morning. I read and re-read the text. I
took notes and wrote down questions. But
nothing happened. Whatever process or
inspiration that usually works within me as I prepare to preach on Sunday did
not happen this week. No words. No
thoughts. No ideas. Nothing.
As Sunday loomed nearer and still nothing was coming out, I prepared myself to re-use an old sermon. I’ve saved many of my previous sermons (the ones I’ve felt were worth saving) and considered the possibility of using a “canned” sermon. I’ve done that on occasion… not often, but when I’ve been overworked or out of town it has come down to just this – reusing one of my old sermons.
I don’t use other people’s sermons. There are many wonderful preachers, but if reusing my sermons is a bit of a cheat, then using someone else’s work (even with credit) is even more so.
As Sunday loomed nearer and still nothing was coming out, I prepared myself to re-use an old sermon. I’ve saved many of my previous sermons (the ones I’ve felt were worth saving) and considered the possibility of using a “canned” sermon. I’ve done that on occasion… not often, but when I’ve been overworked or out of town it has come down to just this – reusing one of my old sermons.
I don’t use other people’s sermons. There are many wonderful preachers, but if reusing my sermons is a bit of a cheat, then using someone else’s work (even with credit) is even more so.
At about 11:30 last night my wife asked me if I was
ready. I smiled weakly and said, “No.
Not at all.” Even as I walked into the
church building this morning I was still blank. I had nothing and I knew it. I
felt like an idiot.
For whatever reason, the attendance this morning was sparse
– only a few of our congregation members were in the pews as we began the
service. And in the snarky part of my
mind I said to myself, “well, at least I didn’t waste all that time preparing a
sermon.”
And then something moved. I don’t know if it was inspiration
or desperation. Perhaps it was both.
Instead of speaking from the pulpit, I moved down among the pews and began to
speak a blessing over those in attendance.
I asked God to bless each of them personally and specifically.
This seemed good to me – and to those few who were in attendance. There was a positive reaction. (Whether or not it was merely an emotional reaction, I cannot say…)
This seemed good to me – and to those few who were in attendance. There was a positive reaction. (Whether or not it was merely an emotional reaction, I cannot say…)
Either way – desperation or inspiration – it was a good
worship service.
At least I hope that God considers it so.
At least I hope that God considers it so.
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