What Do You Want In A Preacher?
February 12th, 2007 | by Scott |I usually don’t get nervous before I preach. That’s reserved for Saturday and for an annoying ritual I usually have to through when I wake up on Sunday morning. But that’s another story.
Yesterday, however, I was nervous. Maybe is was because of me proclaiming MLK as a personal hero or use of such terms as “state-sanctioned execution and of the prison industrial complex.” Maybe it was because of my reference to fighting the terrorism in our own hearts.
Whatever the case, I was nervous. Whenever I get too close to laying everything on the table I get the heebie-jeebies.
Very rarely do I get complaints about my sermons. I’m not sure why that is: maybe people aren’t listening or they are largely forgettable. Or maybe I’m too diplomatic. Or that people think I’m talking to someone else.
But today, I had a dear member express concern that I would laud someone like MLK whose moral failures were so pronounced and visible. My response was that if moral perfection is what we expect of our heroes than we are being unfair to them.
Which brings me to this story: when we were making the transition from youth ministry to the pulpit, Tracy asked me what my biggest fear was. My answer was quick.
I was afraid that I would be found out to be a fraud. That the disconnect between the message and the messenger would be so great that people would fail to listen.
Because, let’s face it: my moral imperfections are many. I look back on the stupid things I have done, the idiot I was in college and wonder how I ever got to this place.
–I fight with my wife.
–I snap at my kids.
–I suffer bouts of insecurity.
–Every week I question my ability as a minister and communicator.
–I can be stand-offish and unapproachable.
–I can be grouch and curmudgeonly.
–I’ve cussed, lusted and broken a whole handful of commandments.
–I hate, rage and profane.
–I stand silent against injustice and rail against petty slights.
–I laugh at inappropriate jokes and bathroom humor.
–I feel jealous of others far too often.
Simply put, I preach Jesus but I don’t look like Him very often. I am a fraud, hypocrite, liar, huckster and charlatan.
I feign knowledge when I’m filled with doubts.
I offer counsel when I don’t know how to work out my own life.
I extol service and labor for the kingdom when I’m so incredibly lazy.
So, what does all this mean? It means that in five years I’ve learned that I would rather be real and genuine than fake moral superiority.
I’ve learned that I gravitate toward those who are broken, flawed and imperfect. MLK is one of my heroes because he continued to strive for faithfulness even when he was so very human.
I’ve learned that I don’t ever want to appear that I have it all together. I’d rather be honest with my failings because it takes the focus off of me and puts it on Christ.
I’ve learned that true, effective ministry and preaching must come from a place of humility and a profound sense of unworthiness. That no matter how hard I try, no matter how much human effort I place into the craft, I will always be found wanting.
So, if you are looking for a preacher who has it all together with all the dotted I’s and crossed T’s then I’m not your guy.
If you are looking for a preacher who falls short time and again, whose feet are made of clay and often wakes up face-deep in the mud, then I’m your guy.
19 Responses to “What Do You Want In A Preacher?”
By jasonk on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
But have you pillaged? Have you plundered?
Scott, you sound like my kind of preacher.
When I was a pastor, I felt the same way. I wanted to be transparent, honest, upfront about my struggles, so that people would not put me on a moral pedestal, someplace I knew I did not belong. People hated that. They wanted me to be perfect, or they wanted to me be a fake. Honesty was not an option. I saw people I knew from seminary–guys who cheated on tests, slept with their girlfriends, and cursed on a regular basis–get called to big churches and denominational responsibilities, because they faked it.
So when someone came along and accused me of adultery (which, at that time, was not true), people reasoned that since I was an imperfect person, I MUST be guilty of doing exactly what they said. That was when I decided it was time to get out of the ministry.
I still think it is best to be honest about who you are. In the end, you’ll be much better off than those who feign spiritual greatness. This week, I am interviewing with a staff/parish relation committee for a part-time music director position. I’m planning on telling them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I am a repentent sinner. I am divorced, and it was my fault, because I took my eyes off the prize and found comfort in the arms of another. I regret that it happened, but I don’t live in regret every day. I live in victory. I will tell them that, and let the chips fall where they may.
Godspeed, Scott. Keep being honest and transparent. You’re a good man.
By Scott on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
JasonK, thanks for that. I wish you well in your interview this week. We need more ministers who have been broken and understand their unworthiness.
To quote Thornton Wilder:
“Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love’s service only the wounded soldiers can serve.”
By T.H. on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Bravo, Scott. I applaud your honesty and biographical post as of late. Thank you for reminding all of us to remain human.
By Donna on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
My kind of preacher!
By Jon on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Good stuff man. If we all looked inward at our own inconsistencies and short comings perhaps there wouldn’t be so much finger pointing.
By Colleen on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Scott, I don’t think anyone sitting in the pew could ask for more from a preacher….honesty, in my opinion, although sometimes difficult because of the vulnerability it exposes,is really an amazing thing. It’s hard to meet God without abandon, and hard to experience a relationship of any depth without honesty. When I recognize it in others, in relationships, music, art, literature…it draws me in and compels me to search my own heart and allows me to become vulnerable to change and growth in my life. Maybe that’s why it makes some people so uncomfortable…
The Angel That Troubled The Waters is one of my favorites, and it really spoke to me the first time I read it…what a profound message.
By R-Liz on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
I’ve appreciated the description of the pastor (preacher) as equivalent to the cook in Brennan Manning’s summation of Wes Seeliger’s Western Theology. Your job is to cook up the meat the Holy Spirit gives to you to cook up. You’re no more important than the other pioneers, you’re just really good at cooking.
That description has always kept things real to me as to what the heart of a preacher/pastor’s job is.
P.S. Although I know my husband also goes through the Saturday Syndrome you’ve described, I actually think I get more nervous than he does when he starts laying everything out on the table during his sermons. I wonder how Tracy feels when you do this?
By Doug Freeman on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Scott, this prompted me to write about being aggressive or passive. When you speak how you feel with love and tact, what more could they ask for? When you have humility, this is a lesson to be learned by many folks.You have the right to be yourself, to say and do whatever reflects your true beliefs and personality, whenever you want to.
By Jeff on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Your transparency on this blog makes me wonder how many of the members at Northside read it and what kind of support/flack you get after being transparent like this.
By Scott on Feb 12, 2007 | Reply
Thanks for all the comments. Of course, I realize that since those of us who commit to ministry will be held to a higher standard then I have a greater responsibility. But it’s important that we don’t lionize people. And it’s important that our incoming ministers don’t feel that level of scrutiny that says moral perfection is the litmus test.
Jeff, very few people from the congregation read this blog. That does not say that they don’t know this. I’m pretty open and transparent in my sermons as well.
By Jason Bybee on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
I bet we share the same Sunday morning ritual, my friend.
In all honesty, you’re the real deal. Minister to minister, I have more respect for you than you probably know.
By Scott on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
Maybe so, but I doubt anyone wants to know what that ritual is.
And thanks, coming from you that means the world to me.
By Larry Freeman on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
In most cases, a little brother looks up to and admires his older brother. In my case it is just the reverse. Keep being who you are!!
By john dobbs on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
Your post was a blessing to me today. Thanks for your honesty.
By Scott on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
Larry, wow, I really appreciate that. I’m blessed to have you for a brother.
John, thanks.
By joe on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
Hey Scott, Jen Thweatt-Bates sent me to this post. I appreciated reading it. Over the past two years I’ve attempted transparency in my preaching/pastoring as my son spent many months of his newborn life in the hospital. Doubt poured forth from my sermons. Questions were asked and answers not given. I challenged age-old tenants concerning prayer, faith and all things God. At first, this was all accepted and even encouraged but after some time, I noticed that some were starting to look uncomfortable “in the pews.” There were a couple of people who pulled me aside in moments of privacy to declare that their faith was hurting, not thriving. I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I’m still not sure what to make of it. This I know: This kind of preaching/pastoring while appreciated as being authentic and genuine has yet to grow our church numerically. (We’re a church plant.) I’m considering flipping over to the “health and wealth” message as that seems to work. Any suggestions?
By Scott on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
Joe, thank you for the comment. I would imagine that there would be a large number of people whose faith was buoyed and strengthened by your heart and by your struggle. And that those who appreciate the genuine nature of your journey not only outnumbered those who find their faith “hurting” in the absence of warm fuzzy preaching but they will also be more powerful servants in the future.
But hey, tack an “l” onto your name and you can be another Joel
By WacoGal on Feb 13, 2007 | Reply
For any in your congregation who question your choice of heros, throw out names like Paul, maybe David… amazing how we learn to read scripture with rose colored glasses… if these men sat in our pews (or chairs!) today as modern day men, they would be definitely unwelcomed guests to most of our congregations! Amazing isn’t it that we can overlook their humanity because it was so long ago and they wrote books in the bible and Psalms! Broken, yes… human, yes… forgiven, yes… Heros, YES! And so much BECAUSE of their brokenness. The best favor you could do yourself, your family, and your congregation is to be transparent. God’s work will be done through you when you are.
By Scott on Feb 14, 2007 | Reply
Yeah, I think we often overlook the fallenness of our bible heroes.