When I talk about myself out loud, I don’t always make sense. I like tomatoes, sugar and salt, but I hate ketchup … except on fried white fish. I dislike walking because it makes me tired, but I love running marathons. I hate science fiction and fantasy stories because I can never get behind that stuff actually happening, yet the resurrection of Jesus Christ fits into my realistic worldview. And I’m overwhelmingly an auditory learner, but I’ve never been good at sitting still or listening to sermons in my spare time just for funzies. And I’m an introvert who does much better in smaller groups, so the idea of preaching (having all of that attention on me at one time) has never been something that I get excited about. In fact, if I’m honest, I quite often get sick of hearing myself (and others) talk, so I’m doubtful that preaching will ever be my favorite part of ministry.
Yet, even in all of these paradoxes, I’m starting to love preaching – not the actual doing part of it (I still sometimes fantasize about falling down the stairs the night before so someone can deliver my sermon for me on Sunday morning) – but loving what the Holy Spirit does with preaching, even sometimes my own.
Preaching was one of the parts of being a pastor that concerned me the most from the beginning. I’m actually not afraid of speaking in front of people, but I immensely dislike all the attention on me at once, so much that I know it is something that will likely push me out of my comfort zone for life. But, I’ve made my peace with that, because, in my experience of following Jesus, if you’re not at least a little uncomfortable, you’re probably not doing much for the gospel (so as I was taught by pastor Judith Hardie). And, as Shirley Woodsend, the 25thfemale pastor to be ordained in our denomination once assured me, if you’re not at least a little nervous about delivering God’s message, you’ve probably lost sight of what preaching really is. So every time I get nervous before I preach (and I do mean EVERY TIME), I say a silent prayer of thanks (with a lot of deep breaths) for that anxiety and for the privilege (even though sometimes I don’t see it that way in the moment) it is to be God’s messenger.
When it comes to preaching, I feel like I’m still trying to find my groove and style. This could be partially because I didn’t do it every week in my first call as an associate pastor (although the head of staff I worked with was incredibly gracious about giving me opportunities). But mostly, I believe that it is impossible to completely get over the introvert discomfort I experience with all those eyes on me. I’ve been told I’ve gotten better, which is encouraging. But really, doesn’t that just mean I’ve gotten better at taking the nervousness out of my voice or at acting the part? And, this has always been the challenge in it for me: How do I be myself when myself wouldn’t naturally give a speech in front of people like that? How do I still be myself up there when people seem to want an orator or a comedian? I’m still working on all of this — accepting and applying criticism and still trying to be myself while I attempt to deliver faithfully the 10 minutes (yes, the church I serve prefers 10-minute sermons!) that God has helped me create through prayer and study.
I am starting to think the agony of the delivery is worth it though, because of the work of the Holy Spirit. Inevitably, there is at least one Sunday a month where I think my sermon stinks, and so I pray super hard — not just my normal prayer over the sermon that the Holy Spirit would use it, but a desperate kind of prayer. It’s the old (predictable to God by now): “God, this one needs help. I know this isn’t my best, but I can’t seem to get it to be any better. So, please, Holy Spirit, help it along a little … okay, maybe a lot, yeah, a lot would be great. Thank you Jesus!”
Before I started preaching, I used to hear a lot of pastors say that people seemed to always appreciate their worst sermons the most, and I just thought they were being humble, but it’s actually true! Even when I think I’ve written some subpar theologically-lacking dull crud of my own, the Holy Spirit steps in. I recently referred to it as pastor-congregant telephone the other day — the fact that a member of my congregation heard something so wonderful in the mess I said. And then another pastor whimsically reminded me, “Isn’t that called the Holy Spirit?”
Preaching may be the most obvious humbling reminder that it isn’t about me — that the Holy Spirit works through us, not because of us. And, it is so cool to hear someone else reflect back to you some amazing theological insight that never came out of your mouth. And it’s even cooler when they take what the Holy Spirit crafted and take it one step further and apply Jesus to their life and it actually changes! I’m not sure I will ever like or be totally comfortable with preaching, but thankfully, it doesn’t seem like that’s really the point at all.
JULIE RAFFETY serves as the pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Franklin, New Jersey. Julie is a violinist, aspiring writer, snowboarder, runner, identical twin and crazy about popcorn.
