kata ta biblia

a blog exploring Christian origins, biblical studies, social/cultural history, method, education and the journey through academia

Sermon Conversation 2: How'd I do?

[Continued from the previous post . . . ]

The best feedback, though, came from our sermon conversation the other night. Here are some sermon excerpts and what was said about them:

Yet when we compare the story to other imaginative tales of Jesus the boy, Luke’s account seems tame. In the apocryphal Infancy Gospel of Thomas, written much later, we find stories of Jesus as a boy getting angry at another boy and causing him to “wither away” and killing another boy for bumping into him. On a more positive note, he raises a child from the dead after falling from a roof, but only after he’s accused of pushing him off the roof. Jesus raises the boy from the dead and the boy defends him. Jesus is this amazing, unpredictable child miracle worker, apparently unable to contain his power. Much different from Luke.

The pastoral staff said that it was good to drop some info about the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, but that it would have been good to qualify it a little better. I did use the word “apocryphal” and said it was “written much later,” but that could easily get missed. They suggested a “one-liner” that was something like, “While this type of document was left out of the canon of our Christian Bible (for good reason), it provides a window into the imagination of one part of the early church.” They weren’t too worried about it because my tone was clearly dismissive and humorous. But Jennifer said that “one-liners” are incredibly important for preaching. It is our way of distilling all the scholarly information that we have learned and making it understandable to the community of believers. It may compromise the complexity of the issues, but how much complexity should you put in a sermon?

And so my problem with these “did Jesus really say that?” passages is that I’m asking the wrong kind of question. But perhaps I’m not alone. The evangelical subculture and secular society alike seem to be obsessed with a Jesus who is your pal; Christ, your buddy. . . . The movie Dogma satirizes the idea of a Jesus as our buddy. In the movie, Cardinal Glick (played by George Carlin) heads up a campaign to make Jesus and the Catholic church a little more fun and friendly. The campaign slogan is “Catholicism – WOW!” and a “Buddy Christ” statue is its spokesman. The statue features Jesus with the traditional robes, long hair and beard, but adds a thumbs up with his left hand, points with his right hand as if to say “You the man!” and gives a wink. If you want, you can even purchase “buddy Christ” dashboard statues and bobbleheads.

For this one, I depicted the “buddy Christ” image by mimicking the stance. Pastor Jennifer said that it was a great image and surely stuck with people afterwards, but suggested that they were being left with the wrong image. It is an image of what I’m saying is bad and I didn’t have another image to replace it, so they will remember the “buddy Christ” but maybe not my point. If we’re leaving a strong image with the congregation, we should make sure it is an image that reinforces our point in a positive way. (Notice that I did borrow part of description of “buddy Christ” as set in Dogma)

We are reminded of the tale of Jesus, 20 years or so older, speaking to a crowd and seemingly blowing off his family once more: The crowd tells him that his mother, brothers and sisters are looking for him. But instead of running over to his “earthly” family, he asks the crowd, “Who are my mother and brothers and sisters anyway?” And answering his own question, he says that they are right here: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Or in Luke’s version, Jesus’ family is made up of those “who hear the word of God and do it.” Elsewhere in the Luke, Jesus says, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” In order to be Jesus’ disciple, we must hate our families. Maybe some of us would have an easier time than others “hating” our families . . . . Be that as it may! It is not really talking about a feeling of hatred; like the word “love” in the Bible, “hate” is an action word. Instead, Jesus demands from us the will to sacrifice our families and our very lives if we claim to be his disciples.

The team told me that my joke about “hating our families” was well-placed. The holidays can be stressful for many who have a hard time with their families and it was a way to name that stress, make it a common point that we acknowledge, and laugh about it. Incidentally, I did get specific feedback on that joke from someone in the congregation who appreciated it as well.

There were other comments. I mentioned Love Actually as an entertaining movie that has some good themes, but misses the point of Christmas. I didn’t mention, however, the nudity that might be disturbing to some. I think that’s okay for PMC, but in another context it might be something to point out. Also, I talked with Katherine about how much should we reveal about our own stories in sermons, since I used myself and my life experience as an example a few times. She didn’t think that I did anything inappropriately, but it’s something to watch out for. Overall, it was a good experience and I learned quite a bit in the process. I have one more sermon and that’s coming up in a few months. We’ll see how it goes.

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  • Matt

    Wow! What a great learning experience you had! I never had the pleasure of the same. Sure, I have received feedback in preaching class and general feedback (both good and bad) from church-goers…but never from a pastoral team. I guess that’s because I usually preached when my pastor was out of town. So you should feel privileged!

    About the personal stuff in sermons, my preaching prof at Truett Seminary put it this way: “never make yourself the hero of an illustration; that tends to come off as cocky…instead use self-deprecating humor; people tend to respond to that better.”

  • Patrick George McCullough

    Thanks, Matt. I do feel privileged! It was a wonderful conversation with our three pastors and the other intern.

    That’s pretty much what my internship supervisor (Pastor Katherine) said. I used myself as an example for how I was a spoiled brat as a kid (showing that I was much worse than anything Jesus did). Then I talked about how Christina and I are trying to figure out how to apply obedience to God in our lives. The second one wasn’t self-deprecating, but it was more just as one example of trying wrestling with reality. I did make Christina a little bit of a hero, though :)

  • slaveofone

    I guess I only have two comments…

    First…well…I hope no one reads this and gets upset…but I’m kinda glad for the times you’re up there instead of JS (if you know who I mean)… I don’t know what it is about his teaching/preaching—maybe even prayer—but he seems so fake. You don’t come across that way to me… You seem like you’re genuinely playing around with your message and not putting up a holy front. But perhaps I’m just reading into the other guy something that isn’t there…

    The other thing I’ve noticed at PMC is the recurring use of the “so-and-so or it seems to us to be [insert what it or he/she seems to be to us]” in messages. Every time I hear it, the thing that someone or something seems to be doesn’t seem to be that to me. And it really pulls me out of the sermon. For instance: “when we compare the story to other imaginative tales of Jesus the boy, Luke’s account seems tame.” I don’t think I would or could have ever thought that… Maybe I’m the exception that proves the rule though… But it’s kinda strange how it keeps happening… Maybe that’s typical of church sermons. How should I know? I’ve never been part of an organized religious institution before…

  • Patrick George McCullough

    Thanks for that comment, slaveofone. I always appreciate comments on the sermon, especially that go beyond, “Nice sermon.” I will keep my eye out for those “seems like such and such” things and will bring it up at our next sermon conversation. I wouldn’t mind if you expanded on it a bit, though. It’s hard for me to imagine that someone could look at a story of Jesus killing other boys in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, look back at Jesus talking back to his parents in Luke, and not think that Luke’s version is tame in comparison.

    By the way, I didn’t realize that you attend PMC. I feel at a loss since I don’t know who you are! Would you mind revealing your name so I can try to put a face to a blogger or so we could meet if we haven’t already? :) You can shoot me an email if you don’t want to post it here (there’s the one in my blog description to the right or my usual one on the bulletin every week)

    About your comparison in internship up-front presentation styles, I am a little conflicted. I am so grateful that I come off as genuine because, well, I am… or I try to be. And it’s not easy to be in front of lots of penetrating eyes and not put on too much of an act. On the other hand, I have to stand up for my fellow intern and friend. I mean no offense to you in the process, but I can guarantee for you that he is not putting on a holy show. The unfortunate misinterpretation may perhaps stem from his generally reserved nature. Also, he has a Masters in English, so his speech (and writing) is quite polished and poetic. It’s something that I admire about him, but I can understand how it may appear that the polish is a mask rather than just a polish.

    To share an anecdote: when I was in college, I ran for Student Body Chaplain (yes, we elected our chaplains). There were two of us (actually the other guy goes to Fuller now, his name is Jesse Rivers). We had to give a speech in front of the 1800 or so students that would be in a general chapel session. It was the first time I did anything like that, so I made a “polished” speech. While up there, I just read it verbatim. Jesse, on the other hand, just grabbed the mic and spoke from the heart. I ended up looking like a fake, even though (I hope) I wasn’t. Later on, I passed by the voting booth and heard the person behind the booth telling people who to vote for (so much for democracy). He was calling me a fake and saying not to vote for me. I walked up while he was talking, embarrassing him, and voted, but it felt awful. I ended up being the class chaplain instead of the student body chaplain and I worked with Jesse, and that next year was when I learned how to be a little more comfortable in front of large crowds.

    All of this is to say that it’s hard to know what is in a person’s heart behind their rhetorical style.

  • slaveofone

    Well said. The benefit of the doubt is what is needed. I can’t pretend to know anyone yet…

    I’m one of the many Daves… and rather new… We haven’t actually met. But when we do end up crossing paths, I’ll be sure to clue you in :)

  • Patrick George McCullough

    Thanks, Dave. I think you’re right about the benefit of the doubt. I have a feeling that it is something that we don’t get well trained for in academia’s hermeneutic of suspicion (not just of the Bible, but of one another), not to mention the world of blogging.

    I look forward to our crossed paths in person!

    [As an aside: I would like to leave the disclaimer that I'm not suggesting that my fellow intern's presentation style is comparable to my inexperienced nervousness while running for chaplain office. Just that I can relate to being the object of harsh misinterpretation of a similar nature.]