Introduction
Of the many ways a Christian can “do [the] work
of an evangelist” (2 Tim. 4: 5), preaching is clearly prominent
among them. Thus Paul, in referring to the labours of himself and
his fellow apostles, says “whether, therefore, I or they, thus we
preach, and thus ye have believed” (1 Cor. 15: 11). Indeed, it is
such an integral part of Gospel testimony that Paul asks “how shall
they hear without one who preaches?” (Rom. 10: 14). Anyone
acquainted with the Word of God acknowledges this truth, and yet
something is clearly wrong in our attempts to replicate that
preaching today. I am not talking about the disgusting religious
showmanship that often masquerades as ‘evangelism’, but about the
plain and simple preaching out of the Bible. However much you dress
it up, in many places
this kind of preaching is
failing. Week after week the audience remains the same, and
year after year passes without a convert. Indeed, it is not unusual
for the entire audience to be composed of believers who have been
attending a Christian gathering since childhood. This is hardly the
pattern described to us in the NT where they “so
spake that a great multitude of both Jews and Greeks
believed” (Acts 14: 1, my emphasis)! Some, on reading this, may
resent the criticism, but what should we be more concerned about?
The unwelcome critique of a traditional set–up—or the thousands of
hell–bound sinners around us who scarcely know the preaching is
taking place? Certainly, saints are badly in need of being
established in the glad tidings (see Rom. 16: 25), but to use this,
as it often is, as an excuse for so little interaction with the lost
is perverse. What is the use of ‘faithful’ preaching if those who
most need it never
hear it? Today’s so–called Gospel meeting has too much of the
character of being ‘among friends’. This may be an uncomfortable
truth, but it is a truth nonetheless. One shrewd observer said that
‘in the old days, preaching was a conflict between the preacher and
the crowd. He was in the presence of the crowd to compel them to
submission. That day has gone.
The preacher’s vocation has
changed’. There is a lot in that assessment. So what
is the preacher’s
vocation? To answer this let us go back to first principles.
Why do
we Preach?
If we do not know the answer to this question,
then we ought not to be preaching. Many preach simply because they
have been asked to, but this is tradition and not Scripture. “How
shall they preach” asks the apostle “unless
they have been sent?” (Rom. 10: 15, my emphasis).
Sending is the key,
for it brings purpose and definiteness to the message—indeed, how
can there be a message to deliver at all if I have not been
given it to deliver?
These things are very simple. Ahimaaz was told “Thou shalt not be a
bearer of news to–day, but thou shalt carry the news another day”
(2 Sam. 18: 20). He could not run until he was told to by the man in
authority. For the Christian preacher, Christ is that Man. Unless He
sends us, then there can be no preaching. It is no good seeking to
evade the force of this principle by saying that sending perhaps
only applies in a general sense along the lines of Christ’s
commandment to the apostles to “preach to the people” (Acts 10: 42)
and Paul’s testimony with respect to preaching that “a necessity is
laid upon me” and “I am entrusted with an administration” (1 Cor. 9:
16, 17). If you say that your calling is to preach, then we are
perfectly justified in asking where and when this preaching will
take place—and sending then becomes specific rather than general. Of
course many simply follow their own inclinations, with the
inevitable result that what they preach is vague and powerless.
Where a man has been truly sent, the message is clear, and his
hearers have no difficulty in understanding its origin. The preacher
is merely the conduit for God Himself, and it follows that his words
come in convicting power. If the preacher is not sent then he may as
well read his text from the Bible and sit down. I do not say this to
frighten anyone away from seeking to serve God in preaching but
simply to bring home the imperative of being “Jehovah’s messenger,
in Jehovah’s message unto the people” (Hag. 1: 13). The issue is
fundamental.
What we read of the prophets is so interesting
in this regard. Thus “the word of Jehovah that
came unto Hosea … the
word of Jehovah that
came to Joel” (Hos.
1: 1; Joel 1: 1, my emphasis). They didn’t dream it up or put it
together themselves. Both Hosea and Joel received a message from God
to deliver to others and they simply delivered it. Amos might seem
to be an exception to this rule as he styles his prophecy as “the
words of Amos” (Amos 1: 1). However, eight times in the first two
chapters we have the expression “Thus saith Jehovah” (Amos 1: 3, 6,
9, 11, 13, 2: 1, 4, 6) proving that this was no human directive for
“The Lord Jehovah hath spoken,—who can but prophesy?” (Amos 3: 8).
As is well–known, Jonah was so displeased with the word of Jehovah
that came to him that he desired to evade his responsibility in
delivering it. It is for this reason that we read that “the word of
Jehovah came unto Jonah the second time” (Jonah 3: 1). Micah begins
his prophecy with “the word of Jehovah that came to Micah … Hear, ye
peoples, all of you; hearken, O earth, and all that is therein: and
let the Lord Jehovah be witness against you, the Lord from his holy
temple!” (Micah 1: 1, 2). He speaks as if he were God. Habbakuk
speaks of “the burden which Habbakuk the prophet did see” (Hab. 1:
1). The Hebrew word translated
burden (massa)
is the same as used elsewhere for the load put upon a donkey (see
Exod. 23: 5). Now no beast of burden places the burden upon itself.
It is an act of the Master. Zeph. 1: 1 simply states “the word of
Jehovah that came unto Zephaniah”—there is not even any indication
that he sought the word of the Lord. It came to him, and so he spoke
it. Again, Haggai is merely a mouthpiece: “on the first day of the
month, came the word of Jehovah by the prophet Haggai” (Haggai 1:
1). Haggai is the means, but it is the “word of Jehovah” that is of
all importance. Today, by contrast, it is the preacher rather than
the Word of God that is made prominent. Even ‘Isn’t he a good
preacher?’ is not an entirely harmless observation, for man and not
God is before the mind. It is a sentiment totally inconsistent with
the preacher being sent by God. The word of Jehovah also came to
Zechariah (see Zech. 1: 1), which he describes both in authoritative
terms (“Thus saith Jehovah of hosts”—v3), and as a heavy load to be
discharged as a servant (“The burden of the word of Jehovah”—Zech.
9: 1; 12: 1). Malachi also speaks of “the burden of the word of
Jehovah” (Mal. 1: 1) and goes on to speak in such a way that he as
the preacher is totally lost sight of, and his words are an intimate
and personal message from God Himself. All this is richly
instructive and should not be made light of, for these things “have
been written for our instruction” (Rom. 15: 4).
Identical principles are evident in the NT. The
NT preacher was a herald
(kerux)
from the throne (see 1 Tim. 2: 7), and an
ambassador for Christ (see 2 Cor. 5: 20; Eph. 6: 20). He had to go
where he was told, and he could not go where he was forbidden to go
(see Acts 8: 26, 29; 16: 6 etc.). Nor did he preach from himself but
“in the name of the Lord” (Acts 9: 29). Of course, what we are faced
with today is very different. A man cannot preach unless he is
ordained (or approved as a ‘lay’ preacher). In other circles, a man
cannot preach unless he is asked. In principle there is very little
to choose between the two methods, because in both it is man
deciding rather than God. If he is not careful, the preacher’s
vocation will have changed from that of a messenger to a performer.
What do I mean? He has been asked to preach, and therefore he will
become concerned not to ‘let down’ those who asked him. He has an
hour to fill and he must craft his discourse to the satisfaction of
his audience. Preaching then becomes a practised art, and what the
preacher says today will sound much the same as the last occasion he
was in the pulpit. Different Scriptures may be read, but the speaker
will soon resort to his habitual pattern, employing the same
phraseology he has used a hundred times before. He may well be
sincere
but is he sent by God?
He may well know
how to preach (at
least to the approval of his fellow Christians) but if he is not
sent, then his message began with himself and not God. Indeed, the
very idea of the preacher placing his pulpit among God’s people is
an anomaly as far as Scripture is concerned. All the great Gospel
preachings recorded for us in the NT were either outside, in the
house of an enquirer, or in some hostile gathering (see chapters 2,
7, 10, 13, 17, 22 and 26 of Acts). Interestingly, not one of these
preachers bar one was invited—the exception being Peter in Acts 10,
who went to speak to Cornelius, rather than inviting Cornelius to
hear him. Of course some would argue that the invitation to preach
is the indication of being sent, but while we cannot limit God, it
is certainly not the Scriptural pattern. Is it not strange that what
would be exceptional in the NT is now regarded as normal? Indeed, is
it not a curious fact that while some of these preachers accept
invitations from far and wide, they rarely if ever find themselves
sent outside, to the house of an enquirer, or to a hostile gathering
of unbelievers?
Who are
we Serving?
I am not suggesting that the tradition of a Sunday
evening Gospel meeting should cease—there is value, at least, in the
public reading of the Bible being made accessible to all—but as a
point of fact, preaching is not the business of the Church.
Preaching is the business of the individual servant, be he a gifted
evangelist or one doing what he can on the basis of 2 Tim. 4: 5 to
“do [the] work of an evangelist”. As someone observed long ago, the
Church does not preach, and you will search in vain for any
reference in the NT to it being even involved in that line of
things. Of course, the preacher of the Gospel and the Church are
interdependent, for the one cannot exist without the other, but the
preacher labours primarily in the world not among saints. A
gathering of God’s people choosing a preacher (and it matters little
whether it is only for next week or every week for the next ten
years) raises serious questions. Who is the preacher seeking to
satisfy? Those who asked him, or the One who sent him? It is a
divine principle that “no servant can serve two masters” (Luke 16:
13). The preacher ought to be free to make arrangements to discharge
his duty as he sees fit, for “to his own master he stands or falls”
(Rom. 14: 4), but in practice he often has to find an accommodation
with whatever foibles and traditions pertain in the local company.
The sooner the idea that the Church has any role to play in ‘Gospel
meetings’ is given up and the occasion delivered to the preacher the
better. If the Church cannot stomach lending a room on this basis,
then the preacher must find another, or preach on the street—but the
Church should not pretend that it can govern how the servant must
serve. “Woe to me” writes Paul “if I should not announce the glad
tidings” (1 Cor. 9: 16). Did he allow others to control him, or did
he seek to control others in their service? Not at all. From those
at Jerusalem who seemed to be something he received nothing but the
right hand of fellowship (see Gal. 2: 6–10). They did not even mark
out his sphere or define its limits. From God he received his call,
and it was God who assigned him his field of labour. With this in
mind, our model should be apostolic precept and example rather than
the traditional practices with which we grew up.
Failure by the preacher to understand who he is
serving also impacts on the preaching in other ways. What are Gospel
services, but
occasions where the needs of the unconverted for are catered in such
a way so as not to frighten them away? The adversarial nature of the
preaching seems totally lost sight of these days. Show me
any preacher in the
Bible who was careful with his words lest he upset anyone! The Lord
Himself is our great example here: “then his disciples, coming up,
said to him, Dost thou know that the Pharisees, having heard this
word, have been offended? But he answering said, Every plant which
my heavenly Father has not planted shall be rooted up” (Matt. 15:
12, 13). Examples could be multiplied. Again, how many of those in
the pulpit talk
only about the love
of God? It is affecting to some (thank God) but many are unmoved
simply because they see no need of it. What does the apostle who
speaks more about love than any other say? “This is the message”
John declares
“which we have heard from him, and
declare to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all”
(1 John 1: 5). Preach
that, and men will
begin to appreciate their need of the love of God! Why? Because
“every one that does evil hates the light, and does not come to the
light that his works may not be shewn as they are” (John 3: 20).
There are many in Gospel meetings today who
think they are saved,
but who have never really been brought face to face with the reality
of sin and judgment. Better for someone to be “sad at the word” and
to go away “grieved” (Mark 10: 22) but convicted, than to sit
unaffected week after week on their way to a Christ–less eternity!
The Gospel is there for the
benefit of man, but
we are not seeking to
please man. The
preacher must never forget that he is serving God not his audience.
As Paul says “If I were yet pleasing men, I were not Christ’s
bondman” (Gal. 1: 10). I am not saying we should insult our
audiences for the sake of it, but the Gospel is offensive to the
natural mind (see 1 Cor. 1: 23; Gal. 5: 11). Once again, the Lord
Jesus is our great example. He never watered down his message to
accommodate his listener’s sensitivities. For example: “unless ye
shall believe that I am [he], ye shall die in your sins … ye are of
the devil, as [your] father, and ye desire to do the lusts of your
father” (John 8: 24; 44). This is the same One whose ear was opened
morning by morning “to hear as the instructed” (Is. 50: 4) and who
said “what I have heard from him, these things I say to the world”
(John 8: 26). Even his disciples said on one occasion “this word is
hard; who can hear it?” (John 6: 60). A very great evangelist of a
past day used to say that he spent the first part of his preaching
getting his guns into position, while in the last part he opened
fire. This kind of language will be too much for some, but their
delicate feelings must be set aside when we consider how pressing
the matter is. People are relentlessly passing from this scene—and a
many are sitting under anodyne preachings that fulfil little more
than a calendar requirement.
How
should we Preach?
No preacher can lift the listener above his own
experience. This is the great difference between the press and the
pulpit. Read a book and you may perhaps have the truth, but in
preaching you have the truth plus the man. A true preacher speaks
from experience (or at least he ought to, for truth and life must
travel together). Some think that they can be trained to be
preachers, but while they may well learn how to speak to an
audience, they can never have power beyond their own spiritual
experience. Peter and John were “unlettered and uninstructed men”
but they were so full of the resurrection that they could not
“refrain from speaking of the things which” they had “seen and
heard” (Acts 4: 13, 20). We do not want book–trained preachers but
Spirit–trained preachers. This fact seems so obvious that it is
almost painful to say it—and yet people persist in thinking that
formal training (even where it draws on worldly advice on public
speaking) is something to be desired. The great lack of today is not
in those who are orators, or ‘well–read’ or ‘well–taught’ but in
those who have had a deep and personal encounters with the One who
has sent them. Shallow conversions lead to shallow preachers. Both
the Gadarene demoniac and the Samaritan woman would be written off
as unlettered and uninstructed, but like Peter and John, they had
been “with Jesus” (Acts 4: 13). That made all the difference. That
was why the demoniac was able to go “through the whole city,
publishing how great things Jesus had done for him” (Luke 8: 39),
and why the men of Sychar responded so positively to the message of
a despised and immoral woman to “Come, see a man who told me all
things I had ever done: is not he the Christ?” (John 4: 29). Both
evangelists could speak with the power of God. Indeed, given the
wonder and glory of the Gospel message, it is difficult to
understand why
any preacher is not
“in spirit fervent; serving the Lord” (Rom. 12: 11). I am not
arguing for mere excitement, and an imitated enthusiasm is just
about the most empty thing that can possibly exist in a
preacher. No, what I am talking about is a passion that only comes
from being in the presence of God. An illustration may help: during
the Welsh Revival a certain preacher had just one sermon to preach
from, but, nonetheless, it was used for the salvation of hundreds.
News of this success reached another preacher far away, and this man
became anxious to find out the secret. At length, reaching the
humble cottage where the first preacher lived, he was taken into a
poorly furnished room and pointed to a spot where the carpet was
worn bare, near a window that looked out toward the mountains. Then
he was told, ‘Brother, that is where I got that sermon. My heart was
heavy for men. One evening I knelt there and cried for power to
preach as I had never preached before. The hours passed until
midnight struck, and the stars looked down, but the answer did not
come. So I prayed until at length I saw a faint grey light shoot up
in the east. Presently it became silver, and I watched and prayed
until the silver became gold with the new day, and then the sermon
came, and the power came. I lay down and slept, then arose and
preached, and scores fell down before God.
That is where I got
that sermon’. The story needs no further comment. The Lord’s
testimony concerning John the Baptist was that “He
was the burning and shining lamp” (John 5:35). It is one thing to
shine, it is quite another to burn. So many preachings today are
ineffective because they have the character of a dry discourse.
Sometimes the preacher is said to ‘handle his text.’ This is all
wrong. If he handles his text he cannot preach at all.
But when his text handles him,
when it grips and masters and possesses him,
then he can preach.
Too much of our Christianity is theoretical, and the unbelieving are
rightly unpersuaded when our talk does not match our walk. There is
a sobering story told of a conversation between a great actor and a
preacher, in which the actor was asked: ‘Why is it that you are
appearing before crowds night after night with fiction, and the
crowds come wherever you go, while I am preaching the essential and
unchangeable truth, and not getting any crowd at all?’. Many would
respond to such a question by saying that things have changed, and
that men are now more hostile to the things of God. There may be
some truth in this, but there is certainly a lot of truth in the
actor’s answer: “I
can tell you the difference between us. I present the fiction as
though it were fact; you present the fact as though it were fiction”.
It is no good preaching spiritual realities if such things are not
practically evident in the way we live. The message that Lot
preached (see Gen. 19: 14) was earnest and urgent—but achieved
nothing. Solemn lesson!
Conclusion
To sum up: the preacher’s vocation has not
changed. First, he must be
sent by God, not
generally but every time he preaches. Second he must preach as
pleasing God and not
man. Third, he must preach as being
impassioned by God.
If the preaching is failing, then it is because preachers have let
go of these vital truths. We have
let go our vocation,
and if the preaching is to succeed under our watch then we must get
back to it. Real preaching is, after all, a great occupation. As the
Scripture says: “How beautiful the feet of them that announce glad
tidings of peace, of them that announce glad tidings of good
things!” (Rom. 10: 15). May we therefore be stirred up to serve the
Lord!
