Yesterday was Sunday. I went to church where minister-Lou preached a sermon. All of my life I’ve listened to sermons. Some Christian traditions have brief ‘homilies’. The churches I’ve attended have had full blown sermons of some length.
Sermons have taught me, encouraged me, angered me, and occasionally sent me to sleep. Some preachers are great story tellers, some are theological; some carefully structure their thoughts, some ramble all over the place; some are predictable, others are full of surprises.
Some preachers choose ‘a text’ to centre their thoughts on: my Dad’s last sermon was based on Jesus words, ‘My peace I leave with you.’ Some focus on a particular narrative: yesterday Lou talked about the paralysed man (Mark 2) whose four friends lowered through a hole in a neighbour’s roof.
Both were excellent sermons containing thought provoking ideas, standard Christian themes of peace and healing, and challenging, helpful practical applications.
This morning I was reading the story of Joseph. Joseph has become the Prime Minister of Egypt. His brothers and Jacob, his elderly dad, join him. Joseph introduces Pharoah to Jacob. Jacob says: ‘My years have been few and difficult, and they do not equal the years of pilgrimage of my fathers.’
That’s a text I’ve never heard preached on… but I can think of a number of friends who would identify with Jacob. They’ve been through difficulties, messed up relationships, suffered through bereavements, experienced divided families… A sermon on that text could certainly include empathy and relevance.
G.K. Chesterton was raised as a Unitarian, discovered ‘orthodox’ Christianity, joining the Church of England in 1901; to the surprise of many, he became a Roman Catholic in 1922.
Yesterday Lou quoted Chesterton: ‘The Church is a house with a hundred gates: and no two men enter at exactly the same angle.’
This morning I’m reflecting on those whose pilgrimage has been different from mine, who’ve come through a different gate, those who’ve discovered peace and healing, but perhaps through an unpredictable sermon.
malcolmsmusings.org 
I understand your thoughts, Malcolm. I didn’t know your Dad was a pastor. My grandfather was a pastor. Many doors, angles, history, and ways to present God’s Word to emphasize compassion, empathy,…Grace. I get all of this. Many blessings!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dad wan’t a pastor in the traditional sense of the word… Our church didn’t have a paid minister. It was run by elders who had secular jobs and each took their share in ‘pastoring’, preaching etc.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s neat. We have a gathering in my corner community. No paid position (or building fund for that matter). The Acts Gathering of the Shepherd meet in a historical schoolhouse. Several take turns, like your Dad, preaching and teaching. I miss it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There are three fragments of sermons that I’ve not forgotten.
1. If my sermon is only the name of “Jesus Christ,” it’s up to you to benefit from it.
2. Sing during the hymns, If you don’t have a pleasant singing voice-now is your chance to get even.
3. I’ve never seen a hearse with a U-Haul attached.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’d like to hve heard the contexts for each of those, Nancy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Coming from different angles – that is so true! I didn’t know that about Chesterton’s becoming Catholic. How interesting!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Wynne I love the ‘different gates’ quote. It certainly challenges the ‘my way is the right way – the only way’ subscribers.
LikeLike