Oh my Gosh, that horrible moment when you download and listen to last Sunday’s sermon that you were so proud of and you find that it was AWFUL!??!
Can I get a witness? Ever happened to you?
“HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?” you wail.
I really have no idea, pigeons. I was well-rested, I had worked really hard on the sermon. I felt connected to it. I worked really hard on it, did I mention that? *sob!*
I cared a lot about the subject, I felt convinced of its potential to reach people. It had awesome quotes and stuff in it. I thought about it for a long time. I prayed about it.
But here’s what I hear in my delivery: clipped, over-enunciated tone of voice. Such a weird emphasis on words, that I can’t follow what I’m saying. And I wrote it! Too many quotes, no sense of emotional connection. Lack of warmth, heart and spirit. Too much historical back and forth between chronological periods of time. Only one or two moments where I said, “Yea! I get what I’m talking about!”
Such a shock, that chasm between self-perception and the perspective we can get with bit of distance. Well, it’s humbling.
Please don’t worry that I am being overly critical of myself. I have a strong ego as a preacher and lots and lots of affirmation that I’m good at it most of the time. It is simply to say that one never gets “too pro” to listen to oneself and learn from what we hear, and to improve.
I know that at least three newcomers got a lot out of the service and plan to return to our church, so the Holy Spirit was obviously doing her thing, thanks be to God. In the end, of course, how the heck do I even know how my delivery was that morning if I wasn’t there in the congregation? That said, chickens, let PeaceBang be said to encourage all of you to record yourselves and evaluate your work as fairly as you can.
Good thing we have next Sunday to do it better.
Hold up. Are you talking about the May Sarton poem sermon that you just posted on Facebook? Because I found that sermon to be moving, deeply convicting and challenging, and full of timely observations. And I consider myself quite a critic. [Nope, different one! But thank for the ups. – PB]
Sermons are funny things. Whatever flaws or shortcomings you’ve identified are doubtless there (and I certainly couldn’t speak to the delivery), but more and more I think that it just doesn’t matter. Some of my sermons that have been objectively and technically excellent, that I think I’ve knocked out of the park, often go unnoticed. And sermons that I knew had glaring, obvious flaws (like my sermon from this past Sunday, ahem) inexplicably touch places in people’s lives. Obviously we have to try our best, but more and more I’m convinced that people looking for a Word will find that Word in spite of us. And thank God.
Thank God that the Holy Spirit is alive and well within our congregations! There have been a sermon or two…no more than two…of course…where I thought that I was pretty darn stupid in what I was saying. Strange to say…there were some folks who loved these sermons. I, of course, mean those one or two times such a thing happened to me. 😉 Isn’t she wonderful? The Spirit inspires us and then inspires those listening. Ain’t life grand? It all just seems to work out one way or another. 🙂
I am sure that there were those who were inspired by what you said even if you feel that you fell down. She is alive and well every where and every time someone preaches. I am convinced of that.
Ye gads! I loathe the sound of my voice. Loathe it. (Though others like it well enough.)
Recording our sermons is a great idea…which I don’t do but should. I remember a time when one person said that almost every other sentence had the word ‘now’ in it. I had recorded my sermon for evaluation by a committee and so listened to it for I was positive that he was WRONG. OH MY GOODNESS…I broke myself of that habit real fast!
I am so grateful for the Holy Spirit, who takes our words and gives them life. Preaching would be pointless if it were all about us and our own efforts.
I sometimes get this thing when I’m really feeling it, when my scalp kind of tingles & I have a physical sensation of being in the zone when writing or preaching. When I mentioned this once to my scientist husband, he reminded me of the Anthony Hopkins character in “Proof,” a once-brilliant mathematician who suffers from debilitating mental illness. In one memorable scene, Hopkins gets that fire in his eyes from being in the zone, but it is painfully clear that his perception & the reality of what he is presenting are miles apart. I’m grateful for my DH who keeps me humble 🙂
Move over on that “I hate my own voice, especially recorded” bench.
As I was leaving a church after serving there some time, a woman told me about an early Christmas sermon I gave that she said really helped her through her divorce. She sent it to many, many friends. She pulled it out and read it when she was having a hard time, months, and even years later. “Well, let me dig up this masterpiece and have a look at it”, thought I.
Reading it several years later, I thought it… sucked. It sucked in every conceivable way. I didn’t tell personal stories – I bled. I told too many stories in one sermon. Did it have a point? Don’t know!
And yet – it made a huge difference for this woman, and maybe even for some others. Those of you writing of the holy spirit – Yup. That’s the only way to explain it.
Listening to myself preach is excruciating, and each time it’s as useful as a whole semester of preaching class.
I’m still new to this preaching thing. Keeps me humble. Led worship in a small, “small” congregation again this past Sunday. Decided to walk off the dais and down among the congregation. I asked for feedback. They gave me none. I asked with my accepting and open smile for at least a nod that they knew what I was talking about. There were uncomfortable chuckles that woke up the sleeping woman in the front pew. They finally interacted with me on the subject of the sermon. Thanks be to God.
p.s. I know you touched the heart of someone! Keep up the good work.