Tag: sermon

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 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 Life, sermon

A little sermon on grace

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I heard a great sermon on grace this morning, preached as I walked my daughter’s golden retriever, Rex.

First, there was the sunrise as the night sky gave way to the day. I remembered something Jesus said about the sun rising on both the evil and the good (Matthew 5:45). Experiencing a new day was a gift from God, completely independent of how good or bad (most likely bad) I was yesterday. That’s grace.

All kinds of birds were singing as we walked past the neighbor’s flower gardens, a reminder of God’s provision. Jesus also said that if God feeds the birds and adorns the flowers, then we don’t have to worry about what we’ll eat or drink or wear. An anxiety-free day? That’s a gift from God. That’s grace.

Warmed up, we walk faster and my breathing gets a little heavier, a reminder that I am alive. Jesus, too, was a living, breathing person, walking just like me. He walked and taught, walked and healed, and walked to the place where he was crucified, the ultimate expression of love and grace.

It’s cool the way God can sneak a little sermon into a walk around the block!

Posted in communication, Ministry, preaching

What makes a sermon “good?”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Brandable Box on Unsplash

The other day I was pondering the question, “What makes a sermon good?” What makes it effective, memorable, inspiring, applicable and edifying? Can it even be all of those things at the same time? I know that some sermons are none of those things. Every preacher has a dud or two somewhere in their files. But if someone comments, “Boy, that was great!” what moved them to say that? Was it short, funny, convicting or reassuring?

I’ve come to believe that a sermon that touches my own heart will connect with others, too. Perhaps that’s the best quality for a sermon to have. It connects an ancient scripture with contemporary life. It moves from a page in the bible to a place in your mind. It connects the Creator with his creatures. It allows the thoughts and feelings of a prophet or a king or a fisherman to resonate with a parent, a waitress, a student or a welder.

The moment of truth comes when somewhere in my preparation, a word, a phrase, an image or an event suddenly strikes a nerve. It’s hard to describe, but I know it when it happens. It might be a moment of conviction, relief, surprise or joy. But at that moment, I know I have something to say.

For example, I’m preaching on the transfiguration of Jesus from Matthew’s gospel this Sunday (Matthew 17:1-9). The disciples get to see a side of Jesus they’ve never seen before and never get to see again. All kinds of glory wrapped up in a very plain human package. There it is. Great things like computers or gifts are wrapped and shipped and arrive at my house in very plain packages. Church and ministry might seem boring and unexciting, but don’t ever forget all that glory wrapped up in “the body of Christ.”

That’s the thought process that got me to Tuesday. Now I have something to say. I’m still putting it all together for Sunday. But I’ve made a connection. I pray that my hearers will, too.

Posted in Dad, death, Life

What do you say at your father’s funeral?

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I was the third of three preachers at my Dad’s funeral. My son Adam (pastor at Our Redeemer Lutheran Church and School, Dallas, TX) went first, followed by my brother Jim (Pastor at St. Athanasius Lutheran Church, Vienna, VA), and then me. Here’s what I said.

“[The women] departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” (Matthew 28:8,9).

That’s a game-changer, isn’t it? It’s a life-changing moment for the women who came to the tomb early on the first day of the week. It’s a life-changing moment for Jesus’ disciples who were hiding in an upper room. It’s a life-changing moment for us who have gathered here today in the name of the one – Jesus – who met them and said, “Greetings!”

Just like us, those women and disciples were dealing with death. On Friday, Jesus had been crucified. Some had heard the sound of nails driven through his hands and feet into the wood of the cross. Some had been there through the three hours of darkness. Some had been there to hear his last words and witness his last breath. Others had wrapped his body in linen and laid it in a tomb. A few witnessed the rolling of a huge stone across the opening of the tomb, to seal it shut. It was a dark day. A sad day. A tear-filled day. A Friday.

But these words are from Sunday, the first day of a new week. The earth shakes. An angel comes rolls away the stone from the tomb. The guards pass out. And the angel says to the women, “He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.” (28:6). The tomb no longer contains a corpse. It is empty. Jesus is no longer dead. He is alive. Jesus’ words about death and resurrection are no longer a prediction. They are now a reality.

This moment really does change everything.

  • Jesus is clearly not just a man or a great teacher. He is truly the eternal Son of God.
  • We can believe every word Jesus says.
  • We are not simply sinners who will always fall short of God’s glory. Jesus died in our place to pay for our sins. We are forgiven. We’ve been declared righteous. We will share his glory.
  • The grave cannot hold God’s people. Not for very long. “For the Lord himself will [one day] descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise” (1 Thess. 4:16).

These truths certainly changed everything for Dad.

  • Baptized ninety-five years ago, he became a child of God.
  • He sought and found the truth in a lifetime of hearing and reading God’s Word.
  • Words of absolution from his pastors (and his sons) continually and consistently announced  God’s forgiveness for all his sins.
  • And now he waits, along with us, for that day, for that voice, for that trumpet and for the resurrection!

These truths have certainly changed things for me! Just about every day I look at the picture of Mom and Dad holding me on my baptism day, September 29, 1957, and remember that I too am a child of God.

Next weekend, when I am back in the pulpit, I’ll be preaching about God’s discipline. The writer of Hebrews says that’s how you know you’re a child of God. Discipline was a little bit different when I was growing up, but Dad never hesitated to remind me that I was his dearly loved son!

I’m not sure how he did it, but somehow Dad got us to fight over who got to read the bible at family devotions. We had to keep a calendar to keep the peace. I don’t remember ever doubting that God’s Word was true.

One of the greatest gifts Dad ever gave was making sure we met Jesus on the way. In the Word. In worship. In song. In prayer. In life. And in death.

Very few people will ever hear of Dad’s faith. Yet his quiet faithfulness, left a legacy. Three pastors – so far. Three generations of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren – all zealous for the Lord. What a great gift to receive. What a great gift to pass along. And what a great gift to celebrate today!  

Preached at the funeral for William Douthwaite, Jr. (1924-2019) at St. Mark’s Lutheran Church, Ridley Park, PA on Friday, August 16, 2019. The entire service can be viewed here.

Posted in preaching, speaking

They thought I was kidding

Posted on by William Douthwaite

As I began preaching yesterday, I mentioned that there are some in the congregation who believe I should more confrontational, more aggressive, more direct in my preaching, along the lines of John the Baptist. JTB didn’t pull any punches calling his audience a “brood of vipers” who didn’t take repentance seriously, basically trees bearing nothing but rotten fruit that should be cut down and burned.

I said that maybe I should zero in on our smug self-righteousness, our neglect of the poor, and our failure to witness. Rather than children of God we look more like the descendants of the serpent himself.

After each of those examples, many in the congregation smiled, snickered and audibly chuckled. As I spoke, I felt personally convicted about each of those offenses, but they didn’t. Either they really didn’t take it seriously, or I didn’t preach the law clearly. And if they didn’t get the law, did they get the gospel? Did they think I was kidding about that, too?

Feedback after a sermon is valuable, but rare. It may come in the form of a comment or question after worship or later in the week. But it might also come in the moment, from a look in their eyes or an expression on their faces. The latter was true yesterday, and it was humbling.

I don’t want to get caught in the trap of believing I’ve got this down, that I know how to effectively reach an audience. As soon as I do, I let down my guard, I don’t work as hard as I should, and I’m nothing more than a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. You can either humble yourself and work hard, or you can let God humble you so you can get back to work.

Either way, by his grace, there’s another Sunday coming up. Another chance. Thank you!

Posted in Biblical illiteracy, church, Ministry, preaching

Just be there.

Posted on by William Douthwaite

IMG_3022It’s early. Really early. It’s dark. Really dark. It’s quiet. Really quiet.

It’s about 6:20 am on a Sunday morning as I pull into the church parking lot to open up, turn off the alarm, turn on a few lights, and get my head and heart into the worship that day. I hear the AC units kick on, and I am thankful they are working today. I unlock all the doors, thankful for all who will enter that day. I turn on all the lights, but quickly dim them all except for those in the chancel. And then in front of an empty room, I preach. I preach my sermon for the first time that day.

I’ve been working on the sermon all week. But it doesn’t come alive until I speak it aloud. My words echo through an empty sanctuary, but in my mind I see all of you who will soon be sitting in those pews. I know where you sit. I know where to look for you. And I am hoping that the word will touch you in the same way it has touched me in the past week.

It’s good to prepare. It’s good to practice. But it’s not really preaching until you are there. It’s so different when I see your face and watch your reaction. It’s not really a sermon until I see you struggle to hold back a tear. Or a giggle. Or look and me wondering, “How did you know?” Or glare at me thinking, “Oh yeah?” Or shake your head in disbelief: “I can’t believe you just said that!”

It’s a sermon when I can tell I’ve touched a nerve. Or pushed a button. Or put my foot in my mouth. Or given you something to hold on to when you thought you were going to fall. Or made you laugh and realize that you’ve been taking it all much too seriously.

I can prep, I can practice and I can preach. But it’s nothing unless you are there. That’s probably the best gift you could ever give your pastor. Just be there. React, respond, repent and rejoice with him (me) because God’s Word is just as amazing, powerful and life-changing as ever!

Posted in sermon

“To what has God called you?”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Transcription of Sunday, October 22, 2017 sermon based on 1 Peter 2:9-10. 

Oct 22 cover picI know that some of you have had the opportunity to take a river cruise in Europe. You’ve ridden on some beautiful boats and sailed down some magnificent rivers. You’ve seen the scenery, cities, cathedrals, and castles. What a great trip!

Others of you had the opportunity to travel to Germany and you’ve toured the places where Martin Luther lived and worked. I know there are a few people in our congregation who have gone to see the passion play in Oberammergau, put one once every ten years.

That’s why there is a buzz in the congregation today. You are really excited because you heard we were going to talk about Luther’s doctrine of vacation! Actually we are talking about Luther’s doctrine of vocation, one of the most important teachings that comes out of the time of the Reformation.

What is your vocation?

When I ask that question you translate it in your mind to, “What do you do for a living?” “What’s your job, profession, or career?” We expand the definition of vocation to include those who are full time parents, students and your side hustle which earns you a little extra money.

That question becomes a little harder to answer once you’ve retired from the workforce. It’s more challenging to answer once you no longer have a job or a profession or a career. Our identities are so tied up in what we do, that we easily lose our identity when we clean out our desk and hand over the keys. Now we don’t have to get up and go to work every day.

What is your vocation?

When the Bible speaks of this, it includes more than just your profession. It’s more than just being a carpenter, fisherman, farmer, shepherd, soldier, government official, or a grower of olive trees. When the Bible speaks of what you vocation is, it refers to your station in life at this time and in this place. This would include more than what you do to earn money. It has to do with relationships, like being a parent or grandparent. Or being a spouse. Part of the community. A citizen of your country.

When we speak about pastors and teachers and those in full time church work, we say they haven’t been “hired,” but “called.” Each one of you has also been called. God has “called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Now you are God’s people.

To what has God called you?

Martin Luther wrote about this in reaction to monastic life in the early 16th century. Monastic life is what you take on when you take vows to be monks or nuns. You renounce worldly possessions, promise to remain celibate, spend your time fasting, praying, worshiping and working in your monasteries or cloisters, isolated from the rest of the world. This system developed to the point where people would look up to those who make these vows. They looked up to those who took on that lifestyle and considered them as those who merited God’s favor. It developed into a caste system within the church. Those who had taken these vows merited God’s favor more than other occupations. They were special; everyone else was common or lay people. They were so special they merit favor for ordinary people, too.

The thing is, as good as that sounds, there’s nothing in God’s Word commanding people to take these vows and live that way. There is nothing in God’s Word promising special blessings for those who do those things. These are man-made traditions that developed into very good works for God.

On the other hand God’s Word is filled with descriptions of what God had in mind for his people from the beginning of creation. God instituted things like marriage and family and government and jobs for his people. God’s Word is filled with promised blessing for husbands and wives, parents and children, and for government and citizens.

The whole idea of vocation isn’t a special niche of religious life. It’s not what you do for a living. It’s more about who you are at this point in time. This is not a coincidence or your choice. It’s what God has called you to.

God’s Word makes it very clear that there is nothing to merit his favor. Absolutely nothing. there is nothing you can do to make God happy with you, and there’s nothing you can do that will make God hate you. God’s Word says that clearly in Romans 3: “The righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law.” Being right in God’s sight is about the law. It comes through faith in Jesus Christ. We attain the righteousness of God through our faith. By his perfect life on this and his innocent suffering and death and his powerful resurrection from the dead, Jesus did everything necessary to merit God’s favor for you. He did everything required. He paid for every single sin. You have that relationship with God through faith in Jesus Christ alone. Nothing else needs to be done. Nothing else can be done.

To illustrate this Luther used the story of the Christmas shepherds. There’s a story we all know. We all know that when Jesus was born n Bethlehem there were shepherds in the fields at night watching over their flocks. They were the first ones to hear the announcement that a Savior had been born. They were the first ones to go and see the Christ who was just a baby. And then they returned. Where? To their flocks. To their jobs. To their responsibilities. With joy in their hearts and a message on their lips, into the role to which God called them.

We do the same thing. We have heard that our Savior has come. We know that Jesus Christ was born, lived, and rose again. We come hear his voice and to see him. He comes to us in his word and in the sacrament, his body broken for us and his blood poured out for us at the altar. We gather together and we witness God’s grace and then we go. Where? We go back to where we came from. We go back to our lives, to our families, to our homes, our community, to our jobs. We go back and we live as citizens, employers, workers, students. We go right back where God has called us with joy in our hearts a message of good news on our lips.

This would be a really good time to clear up a misconception in the church. I know this is still out there. There is a feeling among Christians that pastors do merit God’s favor more than the ordinary person in the pew. We get a little better seat at the heavenly banquet. God likes us a little bit more. We have greater rewards waiting for us because of the work we do as pastors of churches.

I assure you this is not true. Every single called and ordained servant of the Word is a sinner who has no hope apart from God’s grace through faith in Jesus Christ.

In fact, I would contend — and you can disagree with me if you want — that your vocation is more significant than mine. Let me ask you some questions. Do you believe we need Christians in the schools teaching our children? Do you believe we need Christians in government, making, enforcing and interpreting laws? Do you believe we need good Christian doctors operating on us in the hospital and taking care of us when we are recovering? Do we believe we need Christians in the military protecting our freedoms and in the local police department taking care of our communities? Do we need good Christians building houses, remodeling homes? Do we need Christians preparing and serving food and brewing coffee? Do we need Christians in every walk of life? Absolutely.

I’m not doing those things. You are! When God said let there be light, he meant his light would shine into every dark corner of this world. I’m not the one who’s out there. You are.

I’m going to end this morning with some song lyrics. it’s from Matthew West’s song “I sent you.”

 

I woke up this morning Saw a world full of trouble now
Thought, how’d we ever get so far down
How’s it ever gonna turn around
So I turned my eyes to Heaven
I thought, “God, why don’t You do something?”
Well, I just couldn’t bear the thought of
People living in poverty
Children sold into slavery
The thought disgusted me
So, I shook my fist at Heaven
Said, “God, why don’t You do something?”
He said, “I did, I created you”