In 1946, George Orwell wrote “Politics and the English Language,” an essay bemoaning the state of the English language. Reflecting on the perils of writing in modern English, he notes:
“As soon as certain topics are raised, the concrete melts into the abstract and no one seems able to think of turns of speech that are not hackneyed: prose consists less and less of words chosen for the sake of their meaning, and more and more of phrases tacked together like the sections of a prefabricated hen-house.”
I often stumble into this very dilemma as I journey through sermon preparation. I craft a section of a sermon that I feel is quite strong. I have captured complex theological ideas. I have quoted the correct commentator. I have ample reference to scripture. I’ve nailed it. At least, in my own head.
When I recite the section to my wife and she responds with, “I have no idea what that means,” I realize I’ve said nothing. My words are so abstract that all actual meaning has escaped them.
Reflecting on Orwell’s words, I’m struck by how correct he was and, close to 80 years later, how correct he remains. Abstract language abounds. Words that are long, cumbersome and clumsy surround us. English is overrun with words that point exclusively to ideas, words that conjure no mental images. And then more words pile on top of those words in a desperate attempt at explanation. This burden becomes even weightier when one attempts to preach.
Our world today is overwhelmed with all sorts of stimulating visual images. Whether it’s a movie screen, a phone screen or a TV screen, visual images compete for the imaginations of a congregation. A preacher, whose primary tool is spoken words, is already at a disadvantage in this competition. Abstract language increases a significant deficit.
Theological vocabulary is intended to describe the indescribable. It tends towards the abstract. The problem is that the words used to describe the indescribable too often remain abstract or non-descriptive. Can you hold “propitiation?” Can you describe what “omniscience” tastes like? What “infralapsarian” smells like? What color is “transubstantiation?”
This isn’t to deride all such terms. They have their place. I’m simply skeptical that their place is in a sermon. When a preacher has about 15 to 45 minutes to describe the indescribable, how effective are such terms? Far too often, I have listened to sermons employ abstract language. Far too often, I’ve delivered sermons that employ abstract language. Entire minutes must be spent constructing a tower of abstraction, attempting to provide clarity. The moment I use such language, I use more effort constructing that tower than describing the truths of scripture.
The language Jesus used is often concrete. When Jesus preached the kingdom of God, he used concrete, vivid, sometimes agrarian language to convey the mysteries of this kingdom. His parables point us to day-to-day, seemingly trivial matters that illuminate complicated, abstract truths. Jesus takes indecipherable truths and filters them through concrete language. He doesn’t take indecipherable truths and weigh them down with abstraction. Will Willimon writes in A Guide to Preaching and Leading Worship, “Don’t preach about salvation; preach about being invited to a banquet. Don’t preach about atonement; preach about being lost and found.” This seems to capture Jesus’ approach well.
I wish I had clear solutions to the problem. Language is simply difficult. Words will fail us, ultimately. Even when our words seem clear and concise, proclaiming them invites the risk of obscurity. Recognizing this, however, is perhaps the first step towards clear, concrete language. With that in mind, I humbly offer two suggestions.
The first is to think more concretely. Thinking first of the concrete, specific actions of God in the Bible and then searching for the words to describe those actions could lead to more accurate, fresh and concrete language. Essentially, I’m suggesting that you abandon whatever words you begin sermon preparation with and replace those words with the mental images of scripture. And, if the passage is from a letter, try using historical-critical methods to imagine the setting of the letter. This could yield surprising images.
Second, increase your reliance on the vocabulary of the Bible. This is challenging because anyone preaching in English is preaching in translation. So, unless you really want to become incomprehensible by preaching in ancient Greek or Hebrew, reliance on the vocabulary of the Bible can only go so far. However, if you see a phrase in the bible that is clear, simple, and concrete, just use that phrase. Don’t replace it with a more complicated, abstract phrase you learned in seminary. If the passage you’re preaching on recounts Jesus dining with tax-collectors and sinners, rely on that language before jumping to a discourse on “centering the marginalized,” however important a concept that may be.
Again, I don’t think that I have perfect solutions to this challenge. I don’t think there are perfect solutions. Language will, inevitably, fail us. The more thoughtful preachers are with their words, though, the more opportunities there will be for finding clearer, concrete language that can help a congregation understand the indescribable.
