Pastors are always looking for sermon illustrations. See if any of this works for you.

TWO FUNERALS.

This week, C-Span televised the funeral of South Dakota statesman former Senator George McGovern, who had run for the Presidency in 1972 and lost in a landslide to Richard Nixon.

Whenever there is a funeral of a national leader on C-Span, I try to watch as much of it as I can. The fascinating part is hearing stories from colleagues, some of whom are often well-known in their own right, tales from earlier years, stories that never made it into newspapers.

This funeral was held, I believe, in the sanctuary of the First United Methodist Church of Sioux Falls. I did not watch the entire service, so my observation is not about this funeral specifically.

Pagan funerals–in our culture–look back; Christian funerals look ahead.

It’s that simple. The pagan service will celebrate all the good the subject did in his life while ignoring any unsavory parts; the Christian service may indeed bring in some of the accomplishments from his lifetime, but mainly looks forward. As the Apostle Paul said, “Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award me on that day–and not to me only, but also to all who have loved His appearing” (II Timothy 4).

Something else about George McGovern intrigues me. In World War II, he flew bombers over Germany. He was a full-fledged American hero and thus entitled to all the trappings of macho-ism (machismo?). But the American public never saw any of that bravado from him as a senator, politician, and candidate for the highest office. In fact, he came across as rather nerdish.

And, by a strange coincidence, so did George H. W. Bush (our 41st president). In World War II, he was a fighter pilot who on one occasion had to parachute from his stricken plane. And yet, in one of his campaigns for the presidency, Newsweek magazine ran a cover with his picture and the words: “The Wimp Factor.” (Wimp? The man jumps out of planes to celebrate his 80th birthday? He is anything but a wimp!)

By contrast, when John F. Kennedy was running for the presidency in 1960, his wartime experiences as commander of PT-109 became a big deal. Books were written and even a movie starring Cliff Robertson was (later) made.

Perceptions are often so unreliable. We must learn to look beyond how things appear, to look beneath the thin veneers, and to try to see the realities that lie below.

AN ABORTION QUOTE

Our friend is a woman, a Christian, and a medical doctor.  Over dinner the other night, she told my wife and me of a conversation she had with another friend who was stridently pro-choice, which of course is a euphemism for pro-abortion. He was insisting that the only way to go for anyone supporting “women’s rights” is to be pro-choice.

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“God was well-pleased through the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe.” (I Corinthians 1:21)

On Facebook, I asked the question, “How do preachers burden their hearers and undermine their own effectiveness?” Since a large percentage of my “FB friends” are in the ministry and almost everyone else goes to church, the answers poured in. Pastors preach too long, tell too many personal stories, get too deep, never have a focus, and such.

More than one pastor took umbrage at the entire exchange. One said, “All this criticism–and during ‘Pastor Appreciation month’ at that!” Another seemed to shrug it all off, saying he would take pleasure in staying with “the foolishness of preaching.”

To my knowledge every person making a comment on that page loves the Lord, believes in preachers, and supports them. But that does not blind us to the fact that some are undercutting themselves by mannerisms and methods which interfere with the very thing the minister is trying to do. He is making his work more difficult and creating problems for his listeners, the very people he’s trying to bless and strengthen.

We are starting with two assumptions: no minister preaches as well as he would like; every minister would love to improve.

Anyone for whom this is not the case may get up and leave the room now. Nothing that follows will pertain to you.

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“…in whatever our heart condemns us….God is greater than our heart, and knows all things. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God….” (I John 3:20-21)

(If too much transparency is not your cup of tea, you may want to skip this. My sharing it–something I would never have done in earlier years–is partly to deal with it and partly in the hope that someone else may be dealing with the same bete noir and find comfort from a fellow struggler. Misery loves company, they say. Let’s see if it does.)

It defies explanation.

I wake up far earlier than a retired preacher should have to.  Today, there is nothing on my agenda except a few tasks I have assigned myself, and those can be done at any time. If I wished, I could have slept until noon.

If I could, rather. But after five hours of what must pass for sleep, I’m finished.

I wake up with a thousand things on my mind. This week is our oldest granddaughter’s birthday and I’ve not sent her anything. My seminary class has reports to be graded online (which is one of the things I plan to get to today). This house needs some repairs, projects that are beyond me, which means I should be making arrangements with a friend whose company does this. We are trying to make a decision about a new car, and giving my wife’s ’05 Camry to a family member. My work space is cluttered and needs clearing out. The Baptist Press cartoons have been drawn and colored but not captioned and must be emailed this morning. An out-of-state revival is coming up soon, and with the following weekend preaching in Atlanta, I do not like being gone from home that long. I need to be taking better care of my health. Is that thing on the back of my neck nothing or possibly skin cancer? Our granddaughter is recovering in New Hampshire from being hit by a car while on her bike, and decisions are being made there about her future. I wish certain family members knew the Lord and would take their children to church. My next birthday, I’ll be 73 years old. How did this happen so quickly?  How much longer do I have to get things done?

And those are just for starters. You want the full list? I didn’t think so.

And how is your Monday going?

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“For the lips of an adulteress drip honey, and smoother than oil is her speech.” (Proverbs 4:3)

Before there was a folk singer by that name, James Taylor was a professor of preaching. This veteran teacher of preachers held forth in classrooms at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary for many years. One day, in a room filled with young preacher boys, Dr. Taylor cautioned us about the temptations we would be facing.

“The day will come when a woman will sit in your office and proposition you. She will make herself available to you sexually. If your marriage is in trouble or if you are not up-to-date in your relationship with your Lord, you could get in big trouble fast.”

I raised my hand. “Dr. Taylor,” I said, “do you really believe that every one of us in this room will face this?” My mind was incapable of imagining a scenario in which a woman–any woman–would sit in a pastor’s office and try to seduce him.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Even you, McKeever.”

That got a laugh.

I lived to see that day. (Fifteen years after she sat in my office making herself available to the young preacher, while preaching in another state, I spotted that woman and her husband–the same husband whose antics had given her cause to seek my counsel originally–in the congregation. I was thankful I had gotten this thing right in my office that day.)

The writer of Proverbs tried to do the same thing Dr. Taylor did for us in seminary that day: prepare the young lad for what he would be facing down the road.

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The date on my letter says December 4, 1997.

In a book written by a professor at an Adventist college somewhere, the author was lambasting the rest of the Christian world for worshiping on Sunday instead of keeping the Sabbath. In one chapter, he had run a cartoon of mine and given it a negative slant.

So, I hastily scratched out a hand-written letter to him. Here it is, verbatim:

“Dear Mr. Spencer,

On page 29 of (name of the book), you have printed a cartoon of mine without permission.  You will please remove it from any subsequent printings. I receive requests all the time and am always happy to grant permission to use my cartoons free of charge. I am not surprised you did not ask, seeing the slanderous way you deal with opposing points of view.

Your committee’s name (Committee for the Preservation of Truth) is very humorous. You will have to find the truth, sir, before you start preserving it. Your explanation (in the book) of Colossians 2:16 must have sent you to the chiropractor, with all that bending, stretching, etc.”

That was the letter.

I didn’t send it.

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They say Ronald Reagan had a sign on his desk declaring there is no limit to what can be accomplished so long as who gets the credit is not an issue.

Today, I read about a wonderful revival in a church where I preached a series of meetings recently. In the weeks since our meeting, the church has added 47 new members, with 25 of them first-time believers in Christ. The pastor recently baptized 18 in a local river. “Things are really hopping at our church,” the pastor said. “There’s been an explosion.” (Bear in mind this is a church which typically runs less than 100.)

What I find fascinating about this is that in our revival meeting–and they were precious, hospitable, and responsive–I don’t recall anyone being saved or joining the church.

The pastor said, “We even had a prayer vigil asking the Lord to send revival no matter what the cost. We were asking the Lord to pour out a blessing on us, and we were really seeking His face.”

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We all have our blind spots. Yours is a little more obvious to the rest of us than it is to you. Mine is so much a part of me, I might need your assistance to find it.

“Well, one thing I know–I’m not a racist.”

No one automatically thinks of themselves as in bondage to prejudice. Not even the fiercest member of the most radical white-supremacy group would admit to such. No, he’s just fully aware of the differences in people, he would probably say, and proud of his own identity.

Since racism wears so many disguises, all of them attractive and comfortable–just being who we are, authentically human, our true nature, and “I’m no hypocrite!”–we may require an outside source to call our attention to this alien force which can poison our relationships, betray our commitments, and abandon those looking to us as Christ-figures.

I once preached on racism to the largest church in the state, a congregation without a single minority member, and some of whose leaders were known as staunch defenders of segregation.  It will not surprise you to know I was very young at the time. (Translation: bold, daring, and somewhat foolhardy.)

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“The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, these entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also.” (II Timothy 2:2)

Every teacher who is truly effective became a teacher because of the influence of a highly effective teacher.

You can’t say that about preachers. Preachers are called by God. (Teachers can be also, but it’s not a requirement as it is with preaching.)

In seminary, we debated an entire class period the difference in preaching and teaching. Nothing was ever settled, but doing so forever burned the question in the minds and hearts of the lot of us. This morning I went online to pursue the issue. The internet has many powerful voices, each with the definitive answer.

Here’s mine. To preach is to announce the truth of God’s revelation in all its dimensions. To teach is to individualize truth and assist people in their development.  Preachers are messengers; teachers are mentors.

It’s not that clear cut, I can hear someone say. Fine. Give us yours. But this one suffices for me at the moment.

Brad Meltzer is a highly successful novelist. In “Parade” magazine for Sunday, September 30, 2012, he paid tribute to the “World’s Greatest Teacher.”  (Nowhere in the article does Meltzer make that grandiose a claim about Sheila Spicer, his ninth grade teacher. Perhaps this is a series the magazine is running.)

Meltzer writes, “The teacher who changed my life didn’t do it by encouraging her students to stand on their desks, like John Keating in Dead Poets Society.  Or by toting a baseball bat through the halls, like Principal Clark in Lean on Me. She did it in a much simpler way: by telling me I was good at something.”

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