I’ve had people who listened to my preaching over a period of months level the accusation, “I’m not being fed.” And I understand—not every sermon I preached was a masterpiece. I’ve delivered more than my share of stinkers in my day. But I’ve also had people who, after a Sunday service, came up to me and said, “When you said so-and-so, God really spoke to me.” What’s interesting is that, after going back and looking at my notes, I don’t believe I ever said what it was they heard.
I’ve often been puzzled as to how it is that some people can “not be fed” and others can receive something that can be incredibly beneficial and helpful in their spiritual life. It’s not like I preached two different messages. I’ve got to believe there’s either something about the life circumstances they were going through, or the way they approached listening to a sermon, that shaped the outcome.
Given that our life circumstances are often largely out of our control, it doesn’t make much sense to focus on that. But given that the way we approach listening to a sermon is something we can control, it seems to me that is an issue worthy of our focus and attention. As I’ve been reflecting on this, it feels like there are three attitudes we can each cultivate when it comes to listening to a sermon that can make us a person who is “helped” or “encouraged” as opposed to someone who is “not being fed.”
First—focus on the message and not the messenger. In an entertainment saturated, personality obsessed culture, this is often hard to do. But when we do focus on the messenger, we tend to get hung up on secondary things like “he’s too tied to his notes” or “she’s not near as engaging as that speaker I watch on TV from time to time.” Even if our motives aren’t mean or attacking, a focus on the messenger can cause us to miss the message.
Granted—my job as a speaker is to do everything I can to minimize distractions. With experience and maturity, I hope I get better. But at the end of the day, if people are too focused on the messenger and not the message, they will likely miss the potential benefits that come from sitting under the instructive guidance of God’s Word.
Second—listen for insight more than entertainment. I understand how preaching is, in some respects, a venture that involves a measure of entertainment. And I like a speaker who can “spin a yarn” as much as anyone. But if I come away from a message more enamored with the funny story the speaker shared as opposed to the spiritual insight the Holy Spirit gave me, I will have missed it. We need to, as Dan Reiland says, “anticipate the aha moment” and expect to encounter something that is meaningful and relevant to our life.
And third—view listening to the sermon more as an act of worship than an opportunity for education. Certainly, God teaches us through His Word. But the purpose of the Sunday morning message is not information—it’s transformation! We need to listen not with the hope we’ll come away with something that will make us more knowledgeable about our faith, but with the longing that as we apply that insight or understanding to our lives, our character will be more fully conformed to the character of Jesus. If we are simply listening for information, that will never happen.
After more than three decades in pastoral ministry I’ve learned that while the power to change is up to God, the choice to change is up to us. Yes—as a pastor I need to work hard and be prepared. I can’t expect God to bless my sloth if I haven’t put in the time and effort. But by the same token, the content doesn’t need to be perfect and polished for change to take place. It is largely a matter of the heart of the hearer.