Listening for Kerygma

What do you listen for in a sermon? What is the practice of Christian preaching really intended for?

In answering this question we should be wary of at least two common errors. Both of these errors have to do with shifting what is secondary and peripheral to the center. (I’ll address one error now and the second in a later post.)

1.Moralism

Probably the most common misconception about Christian preaching, often purveyed by preachers as well as parishioners, is that we preachers are supposed to be telling people what to do all the time. We have all heard sermons which simply offer a laundry list of good things to do and say and think. But this is not the primary purpose of Christian proclamation.

Of course we do want people to come away with a sense of purpose and direction and even some specific applications in mind. But if all we do is feed instructions for good-living, then our message will be sub-Christian.

The problem with moralizing is that it draws more attention to ourselves than to God. We come away thinking mostly about how we might remake ourselves as better people. Bryan Chapell* calls this “sola bootstrapsa” preaching because you’re basically asking people to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. It is the antithesis of sola gratia and sola fide and solus Christus.

(*see http://worldwidefreeresources.com/upload/49776585727ca.pdf)

Eugene Peterson (in video above) is right to insist that Christian preaching must, instead, focus on God. This is what makes our message good news, i.e. gospel. We openly declare the works of God before men. We want people to know that God has done something and is doing things which we could never accomplish for ourselves. “Sola bootstrapsa” messages are non-redemptive because they leave us to rely upon our own power.

There is nothing distinctively Christian about trying to live a moral life. There is no substantial power in mere morals. Most people have some sense of right and wrong. Most people desire to live by some kind of positive standard. Most people also fail to meet their own standards, and, what is worse, readily betray them.

However much our own morals may deviate from the commands of God, however much we may desperately need moral correction, however much we may delude ourselves in calling what is evil, good, and what is good, evil, and however new habits may help us to get along better in life, yet what we really need runs deeper than moral correction. We need new hearts.

We can find power for this kind of transformation only in connection to the One who has already died and been raised, the only truly Righteous One who is ascended and now reigns. The love of God leads us beyond moral transformation. And it is sacrificial love that remains the motivating factor for Christian witness and Christian living and Christian proclamation. God’s sacrificial love, not ours. The gospel of Jesus Christ does not simply call us to repent. Instead, the biblical gospel insists God loves us so much that he sent Jesus to suffer and die, to accept judgement on our behalf, and thereby to enable our repentance. God has come to rescue us. God makes a way for new life. So that we might learn to love again as he does.

 In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and his love is perfected in us.         (1 John 4:9-12; ESV)

Our morals do need redirection, but we need motivation that runs deeper than our own energies. This is why we need the gospel proclamation, the kerygma, in Christian preaching. Humanity needs a Savior, and we have One. It is far better news than mere moral instruction.

Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.

See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ. For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily, and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority. In him also you were circumcised with a circumcision made without hands, by putting off the body of the flesh, by the circumcision of Christ, having been buried with him in baptism, in which you were also raised with him through faith in the powerful working of God, who raised him from the dead. And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.

Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath.  These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ. Let no one disqualify you, insisting on asceticism and worship of angels, going on in detail about visions, puffed up without reason by his sensuous mind,  and not holding fast to the Head, from whom the whole body, nourished and knit together through its joints and ligaments, grows with a growth that is from God.

If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as if you were still alive in the world, do you submit to regulations- “Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch” (referring to things that all perish as they are used)- according to human precepts and teachings? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh.    (Colossians 2:6 – 23; ESV, emphasis mine)

Paul goes on to sharply challenge his readers in the next chapter to “put to death therefore” (3:5) all sorts of wicked vices and to “put on” (3:12) an assortment of Christian virtues instead. Of course the church wants to see moral transformation; we just don’t believe we can get there on our own, and we don’t believe morality is an end in itself. That’s the difference between kerygma and moral instruction.

by: Parker Scott James

“Schooled in Denial” – part 2

Walter Brueggemann is one of the foremost Old Testament scholars of our time. It’s important not to misconstrue his comments in the video I posted below.

His intention is not that we should all set aside our desire for truth in order to embrace artistry and mystery, poetry against prose, because there’s really no solid truth at all. Rather, Brueggemann rightly insists that those who pursue logic-chopping truth to the exclusion of artistry and mystery will end up settling for a lesser truth. Clinging to cold categories can be a way of avoiding the pain, for example, of relationships which are coming apart at the seams. Some people are interested in theology but uninterested in God.

Oftentimes, poetry has a greater capacity for expressing truth than does prose. This is because poetry and music and art more immediately touch the mystery that is wrapped up together with truth – truth which is, nonetheless, quite solid – more solid than our logic, not less. Poetry speaks more readily to the emotions and the intangible realities; the indescribable pulse and unexamined pain of life in God’s world. Beauty is a part of Truth. Poetry leaves margin for mystery. And Mystery is formidable.

The Hebrew prophets and sages were on to this. And that’s why the book of Psalms, for example, is the largest book of the Bible. That’s why the OT tabernacle was decked out with pomegranates and almond blossoms and cherubim, blue and purple and scarlet yarns. We need artists and artistry in order to help us break through the malaise of prosaic explanations, to elevate us beyond routine, and, yes, to help us deal with pain and overcome denial.

Of course, the greatest artistry is to be found in the work of creation itself: the crisp light of a clear morning and the kaleidoscope of autumn color, the terrible twisting of a tornado and the devouring strike of a great white, the smiles and tears of our children, the steady rhythm of the beating heart and the relentless wrinkles of aging skin; all these bespeak a greater glory.

The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.

Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.

There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard.

Their measuring line goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.

In them he has set a tent for the sun,  which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber, and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.

Its rising is from the end of the heavens, and its circuit to the end of them, and there is nothing hidden from its heat.

The law of the LORD is perfect, reviving the soul;

the testimony of the LORD is sure, making wise the simple;  the precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart;

the commandment of the LORD is pure, enlightening the eyes;

the fear of the LORD is clean, enduring forever;

the rules of the LORD are true, and righteous altogether.

More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb.

Moreover, by them is your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward.

Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults.

Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me!

Then I shall be blameless, and innocent of great transgression.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.

                                                                Psalm 19 (ESV)  

by: Parker Scott James

“Schooled in Denial”

“Walter Brueggemann talks about pain, artistry and overcoming the culture of denial.”

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind and said: “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Dress for action like a man; I will question you, and you make it known to me. “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements- surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?  “Or who shut in the sea with doors when it burst out from the womb, when I made clouds its garment and thick darkness its swaddling band, and prescribed limits for it and set bars and doors, and said, ‘Thus far shall you come, and no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stayed’? “Have you commanded the morning since your days began, and caused the dawn to know its place, that it might take hold of the skirts of the earth, and the wicked be shaken out of it? It is changed like clay under the seal, and its features stand out like a garment. From the wicked their light is withheld, and their uplifted arm is broken. “Have you entered into the springs of the sea, or walked in the recesses of the deep? Have the gates of death been revealed to you, or have you seen the gates of deep darkness? Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth? Declare, if you know all this. “Where is the way to the dwelling of light, and where is the place of darkness, that you may take it to its territory and that you may discern the paths to its home? You know, for you were born then, and the number of your days is great! “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war? What is the way to the place where the light is distributed, or where the east wind is scattered upon the earth? “Who has cleft a channel for the torrents of rain and a way for the thunderbolt, to bring rain on a land where no man is, on the desert in which there is no man, to satisfy the waste and desolate land, and to make the ground sprout with grass? “Has the rain a father, or who has begotten the drops of dew? From whose womb did the ice come forth, and who has given birth to the frost of heaven? The waters become hard like stone, and the face of the deep is frozen. “Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion? Can you lead forth the Mazzaroth in their season, or can you guide the Bear with its children? Do you know the ordinances of the heavens? Can you establish their rule on the earth?  “Can you lift up your voice to the clouds, that a flood of waters may cover you?  Can you send forth lightnings, that they may go and say to you, ‘Here we are’?  Who has put wisdom in the inward parts or given understanding to the mind?  Who can number the clouds by wisdom? Or who can tilt the waterskins of the heavens,  when the dust runs into a mass and the clods stick fast together? “Can you hunt the prey for the lion, or satisfy the appetite of the young lions, when they crouch in their dens or lie in wait in their thicket?  Who provides for the raven its prey, when its young ones cry to God for help, and wander about for lack of food?

Job 38  (ESV)

The Congregation as Sanctuary

I recently picked up a copy of Eugene Peterson’s new memoir, The Pastor, for our church library. Peterson has authored many books but is best known for The Message, his own contemporary translation of the Bible. Despite his gift for writing and his expertise with Hebrew and Greek, Peterson has invested most of his life’s labor, not in academia, but in the pastorate – notably, in one case serving a congregation for 29 years. His books have focused on spiritual theology, spiritual direction, and life in ministry.

I’ve been reading The Pastor seeking inspiration and guidance from a much more experienced pastor. I’m only 55 pages in but thus far Peterson does not disappoint.

The exceptional thing about his memoir, aside from sheer wit and verbal acuity, is that Peterson draws more attention to God than he does to himself. He understands his pastoral vocation (and Christian discipleship in general) as a matter of being swept up into the larger story of God’s kingdom and the greater glory of God’s will. Martin Copenhaver’s review of Peterson’s memoir in the current issue of Books & Culture is aptly titled “Not the Hero of His Own Story”.

I was impressed with Peterson’s insight in describing the singular nature of congregational life in the body of Christ – i.e. in the local church. He grew up attending church from infancy. But he says he acquired his primary sense of congregational life while coming of age at work in his father’s butcher shop.

The butcher shop was my introduction to the world of congregation, which in a few years would be my workplace as a pastor. The people who came into our shop were not just customers. Something else defined them. It always seemed more like a congregation than a store. My father in his priestly robe greeted each person by name and knew many of their stories. And many of them knew me, in my priest’s robe, by name. I always knew there was more going on than a commercial transaction. My father had an easy smile and was always gracious, especially with the occasional disagreeable ones: Alicia Conrad, who was always fussy about the leanness of the bacon; Gus Anderson, who made my dad trim off any excess fat from a steak before weighing it. Everyone felt welcome. He gave people dignity by the tone and manner of his greetings.

Two blocks away on a side street there was a brothel. There was always a good bit of talk on the street of the whores and the cathouse and the red-light district that was a blight on the street. But not in our place: when these women entered our premises, they were treated with the dignity of their Christian names. I remember three of them: Mary, Grace, Veronica. When they left with their purchases, there was no gossipy moralism trailing in their wake. They were in a safe place. Sometimes the women would telephone their order and ask for a delivery. I was always the delivery boy. When I brought the packages, they always knew my name and treated me the way they themselves had been treated in the butcher shop, not as a customer, which I would guess is how most of the people who came up the stairs to their rooms were treated, but as a named person.

Oddly, the one person who seemed out of place in our market was a pastor we had for a couple of years. He wasn’t a regular customer, but when an evangelist or missionary would come to town, that pastor always paid us a call. He would get my father off to the side, put his arm across his shoulders, and say in the same “spiritual” voice that he always used when he prayed, “Brother Don, the Lord has laid it on my heart that this poor servant of God hasn’t been eating all that well lately and would be greatly blessed with one of your fine steaks.” My dad, ever generous, always gave him two. I never heard my father complain, but I could see the other meat cutters wink and exchange knowing looks, and I was embarrassed for my pastor who seemed so out of place in this holy place of work.

I am quite sure now that the way I as a pastor came to understand congregation had its beginnings in the “congregational” atmosphere of our butcher shop. Congregation is composed of people, who, upon entering a church, leave behind what people on the street name or call them. A church can never be reduced to a place where goods and services are exchanged. It must never be a place where a person is labeled. It can never be a place where gossip is perpetuated. Before anything else, it is a place where a person is named and greeted, whether implicitly or explicitly, in Jesus’s name. A place where dignity is conferred.         (Eugene Peterson, The Pastor, pp. 39-40)

It seems all too easy for Christians to loose sight of the sacredness of our calling as a holy people. We fail to live out this reality whenever we snub a neighbor or show partiality in the church. We also fall short by neglecting the hours of fellowship and avoiding opportunities to listen, to speak with, or to serve one another, preferring the lesser sanctity of a strictly private life.

In Peterson’s view the fellowship is the sanctuary. He reminds me that the love of God in Christ should always elevate our minds and hearts, our words and actions, above the fray of cultural concern for reputation or personal advantage. We can and should greet anyone and everyone in the name of the one for whom we are named. Whether spoken or unspoken we always greet others as Christians. This is not a front to wear as a false smile or a catchphrase but the inward reality of a renewed heart and mind.

For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. From now on, therefore, we regard no one according to the flesh. Even though we once regarded Christ according to the flesh, we regard him thus no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
(2 Corinthians 5:14-17)

Any person bound in blood bought covenant to God need no longer boast in possessions or position or personality nor judge herself by comparison to neighbors. Instead we learn to view others through the lens of mercy and power granted us in Jesus Christ, the Risen One. We look beyond appearances, withhold judgment, eschew prejudice, and speak from heart to heart. We always anticipate the dignity of the maker in the person he has made. However corrupted the image-bearer before us may be, the cross of Christ should remind us of our own corruption – even as it bespeaks our redemption.

I think Peterson’s notion of “congregation” should manifest not only “upon entering a church” but also upon encountering any Christian. This is implied in the memoir by his emphasis on his father’s demeanor in the butcher shop. The sanctuary of congregation was present there in the meat shop because his father set the tone of dignity and trust. Human relationship transcended transactional means meeting ends. The one pastor was out of place in that congregation because he was patronizing and manipulative and artificial, qualities which do not confer dignity but diminish it.

So let us examine ourselves and pray God will, all the more, grant us the grace to see one another with spiritual eyes and greet one another, and all people, in the name of our Lord.

by: Parker Scott James