Tag: preaching

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Down but not out

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Some “through the bible” thoughts from Acts 14.

In Acts 14, Jews are on a mission of their own from Antioch and Iconium to hinder Paul’s preaching. “having persuaded the crowds, they stoned Paul and dragged him out of the city, supposing that he was dead” (Acts 14:19).

However the next day, Paul and Barnabas preached in Derbe. I imagine Paul looked like Rocky after either of his fights with Apollo Creed. Maybe worse. He’s bloody, bruised, and an eye is swollen shut. He’s limping, has one arm in a sling, and is missing a couple of teeth. With a concussion like that he should sit out at least one game, right?

How would you like to visit a church where the preacher looked like that on a Sunday morning? I once preached with some stitches on my forehead from skin cancer surgery. Another time I had a bloody nose a few moments before the sermon. I don’t remember getting many questions.

But if I were in Derbe, I’d have a lot of questions. Like, “Why didn’t anyone stop the mob who came after Paul?” And, “Barnabas, why do you look so good while Paul looks so bad?” Or how about, “Don’t you ever take a day off, Paul?”

I suppose this would have been a good chance for Paul to say, “You should see the other guy.” By the other guy, I mean Jesus. After seeing what happened to him on the cross, the apostles knew what they were in for. And yet, they rejoiced “that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name” (5:41). Prison? Beatings? It was all in the job description.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

A sermon interrupted

Posted on by William Douthwaite
From Gospelimages.com

Some “through the bible” thoughts from Mark 2.

A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. They gathered in such large numbers that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. Some men came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus by digging through it and then lowered the mat the man was lying on. (Mark 2:2-4)

This unusual sermon interruption brought back memories of some of my interrupted sermons.

  • My sermons usually began about twenty minutes into the worship service. When someone walked in after I started preaching, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Really? Twenty-five minutes late?”
  • Some sermons were interrupted by the arrival of EMTs to care for a worshiper who passed out during the sermon. In those cases, I would stop and lead the congregation in prayer, resuming my sermon once they had left for the emergency room.
  • A malfunctioning fire alarm panel would punctuate my preaching with a series of beeps. It was both annoying and amusing to see folks scrambling around trying to silence the alert.
  • Except for a few Covid-19 Sundays when I was alone in the sanctuary preaching to a video camera, I could count on hearing sneezing, coughing, nose blowing, and candy being unwrapped.
  • My favorite interruption was one I engineered. When my wife was in Haiti providing medical care after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, I had her call me during the sermon so she could report on her experience. That was the only time my phone rang during a sermon.
  • Before online giving, some folks wrote out their offering checks during the sermon. They tried to be quiet, but I could hear them slowly and carefully tearing the check out of the checkbook.
  • On a stormy day, I often had to compete with rumbling thunder and the sound of a downpour on the sanctuary’s metal roof.
  • Babies liked to make their presence known. I love babies and I love babies in worship. Bring it, little one. I’ve got a lot of volume in reserve.

The sound of people tearing a hole in the roof interrupted Jesus’s preaching. The paralyzed man from above encountered the son of God who came from above. Jesus forgives the man and heals his condition, as powerful a message as his preaching that day.

According to my WordPress statistics, this is my 2,000th blog post! I published my first post October 23, 2008.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Broken

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Brandon Stoll on Unsplash

Some “through the bible” thoughts from Jeremiah 19.

“Go, and buy a potter’s earthenware flask…break the flask…and say, ‘Thus says the Lord of hosts: So will I break this people and this city” (Jeremiah 19:1,10,11).

In contrast to clay being formed by a potter, Jeremiah’s subsequent object lesson is breaking a bottle made of hardened clay, an image of the disaster God will bring on his people, “Because they have stiffened their neck, refusing to hear my words” (19:15).

The first thing that pops in my mind is the scene in Rocky IV, Ivan Drago, the Soviet champion says to Rocky, “I must break you.” Other images include breaking a wild horse, breaking in a new pair of running shoes, breaking up a task into manageable parts, breaking up hard soil for a garden, or breaking a bad habit.

God’s people are no longer moldable, having forsaken God to pursue idol worship with child sacrifice. They’ve closed their ears to God’s repeated warnings and calls to repentance. Mercy isn’t working. It’s going to take enemy invasion and destruction to get their attention. It’s like a house that’s beyond repair. “We’re going to have to tear it down and start over.”

It must have been tough for Jeremiah to proclaim this “no more Mr. Nice Guy” message. Well, actually, it was, because in the next chapter, the priest beats Jeremiah and puts him in the stocks. Jeremiah complains to God about the violent response to the message. He hates this job.

It’s ironic that Jeremiah has been sent to preach to people who refuse to listen. Seems like a waste of time. Yet it sets up an, “I told you so” future moment, as God’s justice and righteousness prevails.

Ultimately, Christ’s body will be broken for so many, like me, who just don’t listen, who find so many other things to worship, and are impossibly stubborn. Just like God’s people always have been.

Posted in preaching

Musings from the pulpit

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

So after a Sunday morning where my task was to lead praise worship, I thought I’d circle around and ponder how different it was from the preaching experience.

I find that preaching engages my intellectual left brain. I’ve engaged a text, developed illustrations, developed a flow, and committed the outline to memory. Even though a sermon might appear to be a monologue, it’s actually a dialogue on different levels. I am watching my listeners, gauging their reactions. I am hearing the word myself, my heart responds, and that affects my words.

I notice what’s going on in the congregation before me. I see who is there and who is not there. I watch their eyes, see a few smiles, maybe a nod or two, and wonder how some can sit stone-faced for an entire hour. I’m conscious of everyone else there with a task: elder, ushers, AV technicians, musicians. I’m aware of who’s there for the first time, who can’t keep their eyes open, children with snacks, toys, and crayons, late-arrivers, those who like to chat, who’s taking notes, and every attempt to silently open up a piece of candy. I know who’s walking through the outer doors, who leaves early, who can’t make it an hour without a trip to the restroom.

I am fully engaged with the people in front of me. They have my attention, even if they aren’t fully paying attention to me. I’ve practiced enough that some of the sermon is preached on auto-pilot. But along the way, I may leave something out or I may have a new thought to include. It’s both prepared and spontaneous at the same time.

I enjoy(ed) preaching, I believe, because of all the variables. (I’m a math guy. I like multiple variables in equations.) Some might hear and their lives will be changed. Some won’t hear a word; nothing will change. The results aren’t even in my hands. I can study, prepare, and practice as much as I want, but the results are in the hands of a higher power. The word I speak is powerful and can change a life. It can set off a temper tantrum, too. I never know how it will turn out.

I’ve just preached. I’ve just done music. I’ve done both. All very different experiences.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Just like riding a bike

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Jonny Kennaugh on Unsplash

I was asked to substitute preach last November at the church I retired from two-and-a-half years ago. While I’ve done a few memorials and funerals, this was my first time back in the pulpit for a Sunday morning worship service.

A few months before, someone who knew I was scheduled to preach teasingly asked, “Do you think you’ll remember how?” But it’s a good question. It should be like riding a bike, right? I might be a little stiff, but preaching muscle-memory ought to kick in.

And it did. In some ways it felt like I had taken a couple of weeks off rather than two years. I could have resurrected a sermon from my archive of messages. I didn’t because old messages include things that aren’t relevant. Plus, the discipline of preparing a message assures that it will touch my heart before it reaches the ears of others. I need and appreciate that blessing.

I do not write out my sermons. I outline them using Keynote (Apple’s version of Power Point), putting a picture on each one to help me remember. That way I can preach just using my bible, freeing me to better engage the congregation.

I also volunteered to lead the praise service that day, since the leader would also be away. And teach an adult Sunday School class between the two morning worship services. In hindsight, I should have just preached rather than dividing my efforts between all those things. I enjoy doing all of that, it just takes a little more preparation to spin that many plates on a Sunday morning.

The week before I noticed that my mind was continually filled with the upcoming sermon. I would think my way through the outline, introduction, illustrations, and applications throughout the day. I had forgotten how sermon preparation moves in and occupies a lot of space in my mind. It requires a lot of mental and spiritual energy.

That’s the part I don’t miss. It sounds terrible, but I don’t miss the weekly grind. As soon as you’re done one, the next one looms. Sundays come around with precise regularity. As much as I love preaching and teaching, I don’t miss it that much. Does that surprise you? I read those words and it surprises me. It’s one of those love-hate things, I guess.

Thanks for lasting this far through a rambling post. Here’s one last thought. I am grateful for the honorarium paid for my Sunday morning efforts. I do want to mention that this is one place where inflation has not spun out of control. I received the same amount as we were paying substitute preachers thirty years ago. I know, I know, you don’t do it for the money. I’m just putting it out there.

I suppose I’ll preach now and again in the future. We’ll see what happens. I still get to teach adults and youth each month, and enjoy that a lot.

I’m still figuring out this retirement thing.

Posted in Ministry, sermon

Words you should never use in a sermon

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Chase Kennedy on Unsplash

I don’t remember the exact sermons in which I used these words. I only remember being called on the carpet for using these words.

You’re curious, aren’t you? You can relax. I doubt these words will shock you, not compared to the language you hear everyday on the air, in podcasts, or in movies.

I used the first phrase when I was speaking about anger. I said something like, “He was really pissed off.” I thought that was a familiar euphemism for being upset.

A few days later, a couple came by my office to talk to me. They were visibly upset and told me in no uncertain terms that they wouldn’t attend a church where bathroom humor was used in the pulpit. I had no idea what they were talking about until they explained to me their offense at the word pissed. I apologized and never used that word again in my preaching.

The second word I was called out on is slut. I must have been talking about one of the women in the bible with a “reputation” and referred to her as a slut. One couple in attendance couldn’t believe I had exposed their teenage granddaughter to such language. Having worked with youth for many years, I’ll bet she had a much broader vocabulary than her grandparents realized. But I apologized and never did use that word again in my preaching.

Of course, there are many other words a preacher should never use in a sermon. But those are the only two times I was challenged. I apologize for the click-bait title. You’re probably pissed off you didn’t get to read about something a little juicier than “slut.”

I figure I preached 2,000 sermons in thirty-six years of ministry. At around 2,000 words per sermon, that would total four million words from the pulpit. Two bad words? That’s not too bad.

Posted in preaching, sermon

The one who walked out

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As I continue digitizing my old journals, I came across an entry from Monday, December 26, 2016. I wrote that I received a hate comment in the candle collection bin after the Christmas Eve service. I wish I had saved it or taken a picture of it. The person was so offended by my political comments that she wrote down her objections on a prayer request card, threw it into the box, and walked out.

You’re curious, aren’t you? So am I. You won’t find much politics in my sermons. So I went back and found that sermon.

It was the time when fake news was the rage. In contrast the good news Christmas was real news or great joy. Here’s what I said:

“Here’s a few [headlines] that may have fooled you. Every one of these was out there and seen by millions of people, and every one is fake.”

  • FBI Agent Suspected in Hillary Email Leaks Found Dead in Apparent Murder-Suicide.
  • Donald Trump Protester Speaks Out: “I Was Paid $3,500 to Protest Trump’s Rally”
  • Pope Francis Shocks World, Endorses Donald Trump for President, Releases Statement
  • Donald Trump Sent His Own Plane to Transport 200 Stranded Marines
  • FBI Director Comie Just Put a Trump Sign On His Front Lawn

“I repeat: these are all fake headlines! Yet 2/3 or more of those surveyed said they thought they were true.”

These were the top five believed fake headlines according to Buzzfeed. It was my critic’s first visit to our church, and she was appalled at what she heard. She wrote that she wouldn’t be back. She did not leave her name, just the note.

I thought they were all pretty funny. But I guess not everyone appreciates my humor. I didn’t get that much backlash from pro-life sermons. I always reminded folks (and myself) that no one ever gets a one hundred percent approval rating. I’ve gotten called out for using words in a sermon that some thought was inappropriate. But that’s a story for another day.

If I hadn’t been paging through old journals, I never would have remembered this. Here’s the sermon, in case you wanted to listen:

Posted in retirement

First Sunday off

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I found this in my drafts. I wrote it eighteen months ago, in July 2022, right after I retired.

Photo by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash

The first page of a new journal happened on the same day as my first Sunday of retirement, that is, my first Sunday off from preaching.

Sure, I’ve had Sundays off before. Vacations. A few guest preachers. But this was real. This was retirement. This was the first day of the rest of my <retired> life.

This was different. I didn’t have to worry about what was happening in my absence. I didn’t have to anticipate a text like, “How do you reset the AC?” or “Where is the key for the other building?” All of that was someone else’s concern. No one could add anything to my plate. I had nothing to worry about.

If you are just tuning in, this was the first Sunday after thirty-six years of pastoral ministry when Sunday was actually a “Sabbath” for me. For me and other pastors, Sunday is ground zero. Even though I had plenty to do the rest of the week, everything pointed towards Sunday. Sunday is “showtime,” that day when you touch the most lives in the smallest amount of time. Some in person. Some online. Some for the first time. Some for the hundredth time.

Do you know what my wife and I did on the first Sunday of my retirement? I want to say, “Nothing.” Nada. Zip. Zilch.

That’s not quite accurate. We did not go to church. At least not in person. We watched my son’s worship service on YouTube from Dallas, TX. We went for a long bike ride. I wrote a bunch of thank you notes for retirement gifts. I made some of my special ceviche. I took a nap.

I had a Sabbath.

I had a day to rest. A day to relax. A day to re-create. A day to listen and reflect on God’s Word. A day to be still and know that He is God.

Here are a few thoughts from my first day off in retirement:

  • On this day, God was exalted. Too often, I am praised on a Sunday morning for an inspiring message, an appropriate prayer, or an appropriate illustration. Even though the kingdom, the power, and the glory are His, pastors get too much of that. I did not have to worry about that on this Sunday.
  • On this day, I was just Bill. I know that doesn’t impress most of you. But it’s been thirty-six years since I was just “Bill.” I remember the day after the call service at the Fort Wayne seminary when I called the president of the congregation. With a thick Brooklyn accent, Jim said, “Oh, hi, Pastor.” From that moment on, people called me Pastor, Pastor Douthwaite, Pastor Bill, and PB. Over the years some would call me “Bill,” but they were few and far between. Suddenly, that’s who I was. Bill. I had to think back to my pre-seminary days to remember who that was.
  • On this day, Sunday happened without me. For so many years, I unlocked the doors, turned on the lights, straightened the chairs (old sanctuary), cleaned up (old worship folders from last Sunday, put out the worship folders for this Sunday, filled the baptismal font, put out the Sunday School snacks, and made sure we had an appropriate banner displayed in the sanctuary. Someone else does all that now.

I thankful for all the Sunday “on,” when I got to preach. And I am grateful for all these Sundays when I don’t.

Posted in preaching

Can I preach the same sermon two weeks in a row?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

My thoughts here are partly tongue-in-cheek and partly “why not?” In thirty-five years of ministry, I’ve only got one sermon I’ve used more than once. It was a wedding message that someone heard and actually requested when he and his spouse renewed their marriage vows. Other than that, I’ve always prepared a fresh sermon for Sunday worship, funerals, weddings and special occasions like Christmas.

The other day I wondered, “What would happen if I preached the exact same sermon two weeks in a row?” Here are a few possibilities.

  • People tend to forget what they just heard. I’ll bet most people wouldn’t even know it was a rerun.
  • Many don’t attend worship weekly, so they wouldn’t hear it twice. Some folk would miss both of them.
  • Some would think, “This sounds familiar.” But they wouldn’t be able to put their finger on why.
  • There would have to be someone who would immediately react, “Hey, didn’t you preached that sermon last week?”

I remember reading about a pastor who preached a sermon several weeks in a row. When asked why, he said, “After the first time, nothing changed, so I thought you all needed to hear it again!”

A pastor friend of mine told me about one of his classmates from seminary who wrote fifty-two sermons for his first year of ministry. From then on, he simply cycled through them for the rest his career. That approach would free up a lot of your time.

I might just do it. I’m not going to tell when or where. I’ll let you know how it goes.