One of the brochures arriving in my mail advertises a workshop on "The Renewed Homiletic," which it describes as a "turn toward the hearer." It points out that a shift in "the study and practice of preaching" occurred 35 years ago: "The purpose of preaching focused less on persuasion and more on transformation, less on asserting religious truths and more on offering an experience of the gospel."
Fair enough. There's more: "Thus homiletical strategies utilizing induction, celebration, story, narrative structures, and moves replaced a deductive, propositional approach to preaching." ...and moves...?? OK.
I must confess that never in my sermon preparation have I considered a "strategy" to utilize induction. I failed to ponder "narrative structures." The only "moves" I ever employed were gestures and the occasional foot-stomp. But, I guess it's OK, since I wasn't remaining stuck in a pattern of a "deductive, propositional approach," either.
Maybe I'm just not the reflective type, sucking pensively on a pipe, wearing a corduroy jacket with elbow patches, while I sit in my study surrounded by tall shelves of scholarly dissertations about referential language appropriate to post-modernity.
I remember a lecture once about church transformation, and one of the marks or characteristics of a transforming church, according to the learned lecturer, was its ability to "jettison the amphictiony." I couldn't wait to get that into my next sermon, and apply it in daily parish life. Right.
One sermon I preached last year made reference to language, suggesting it helps to know the language of those with whom you are communicating. I gave the example of something that might be said at one of the lobbying law firms on K Street in Washington, DC: "Go up to the Hill before the markup on the DOJ appropriation. Get some face time with the chair and deal away the RIF'ing of our clients. Then, go over to Old Town for a walk-through with the AEI PAC leadership. Take the orange line, transfer to the yellow because the Inner Loop will be stacked up at the Wilson that time of day. Then, at 7, go over to Georgetown and spin the Posties at the grip and grin at Ben and Sally's."
If my "hearers" were confused by that, I gave them more, offering an example of something my son might say: "Carlos was crunked because I wouldn't throw cheddar for his grindage. He said, 'I'll just gank it, then.' I put on the chinny rack and told him, 'You're lunching, dawg. Quit icin' my grill. It's cashed.' Then, I bounced."
One of my earliest mentors told me that preaching should be done in "language of a sixth grade level." I wasn't sure how to do that. Plus, it seemed like it would be insulting to the congregation. So, I found it especially hilarious when, on the very next Sunday, one of our elders used the word "archipelago" in his communion prayer. I sure didn't know or use that word back when I was a sixth-grader.
Many of the folks finding their way to churches these days are not familiar with church terminology, scripture or Christian history. They don't know one denomination from another -- and don't care. They are seeking spiritual guidance and health. They are giving God a try.
What do we say to them? And how do we say it?