The power of a sermon and the devastating consequences of an unspiritual sermon

Podcast: Download (Duration: 11:06 — 7.6MB)

The greatest gifts, if misused, can bear the bitterest fruit. The sun gives life, but heatstroke can lead to death. Preaching is meant to bring life; it can also kill. The preacher holds the keys. He can lock and unlock. Preaching is God's great ministry for planting and nurturing spiritual life.

When exercised properly, its benefits are immeasurable. Conversely, when mismanaged, no evil can surpass its devastating effects. It is easy to scatter the flock if the shepherd is not on his guard or if the pasture is ruined. It is easy to storm the fortress if the watchman is asleep or if the food and water are poisoned. The preacher is endowed with such great privileges, exposed to so many dangers. He bears an immense responsibility. In light of all this, the Apostle Paul's exclamation and question is never superfluous: "Who is fit for this?"

Paul says: “ Our competence comes from God, who has also qualified us to ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life .” The true minister is authorized, empowered, and equipped by God. The Spirit of God anoints the preacher; the fruit of the Spirit is in his heart.

The Spirit of God gives life to the preacher and the Word. His preaching gives life like a spring, gives life like the resurrection, gives ardent life like summer, creates fruitful life like autumn. The life-giving preacher is a man of God whose heart always thirsts for God, whose gaze is fixed only on God, and in whom, through the power of the Spirit of God, the flesh and the world are crucified. His ministry is like the broad flood of a life-giving stream.

The danger of an unspiritual sermon

Preaching that kills is unspiritual preaching. The ability to preach in this way is not from God. Lesser than divine powers have given it strength and impetus. The Spirit is neither felt in the preacher nor in his sermon. Through such preaching that kills, various kinds of forces may be awakened and stimulated, but they are not spiritual forces. They may resemble spiritual forces; however, they are only their shadow and imitation. They may appear to have life, but this life is not real.

Letter-based preaching kills, however well-formed and ordered it may be—it is still only the letter, the dry, barren letter, the empty shell. Preaching the letter is without divine anointing; it is neither ripened nor anointed by the Spirit. There may be tears, but tears cannot set God's work in motion; tears are sometimes like a summer breeze on a snow-covered iceberg, only having a superficial effect.

There may be feelings and earnest aspirations, but they resemble the emotional turmoil of an actor and the solemn expression of a lawyer. The preacher may ignite his emotions with his own sparks, wax lyrical about his own interpretation, and earnestly convey the result of his own thoughts. The professor may assume the role of the apostle and imitate his fervor. Brain and nerves may substitute for the Spirit of God and feign His work. Through these forces, the letter may glow and sparkle like a spirit-illuminated text, but the glow and sparkle are as barren as the field upon which pearls are sown.

The great obstacle is the preacher himself. He lacks the powerful, life-giving forces within him. There may be nothing wrong with his orthodoxy, honesty, purity, and earnestness; but somehow, deep down, the man has never surrendered and surrendered himself to God. His inner life is not a channel through which the message can flow in the power of God.

Somehow, the ego, not God, still reigns in this person's innermost being. Somewhere, completely unconsciously, the divine flow within him is blocked and cannot continue. He has never felt his spiritual bankruptcy, his utter powerlessness, deep inside. He has not yet learned to cry out in despair and helplessness until God's power and God's fire descend upon him, filling him, purifying him, and empowering him. He overestimates himself and his abilities, thereby desecrating and wounding the temple that should be kept holy for God.

Life-giving preaching costs the preacher dearly – the death of the self, crucifixion before the world, the burden on his own soul. Only crucified preaching can give life, and crucified preaching can only come from a crucified person.

The literal preaching

Preaching that kills may possess a certain insight and grasp the fundamental ideas. It may be learned and critical, perhaps even knowing every detail of the origin and the precise grammar of the letter. It may study the word as a lawyer studies his books to draft his legal opinion or defend his case—and yet, in doing so, it acts like a deadly frost.

Letter-based preaching may be eloquent, adorned with poetry and rhetoric, sprinkled with prayer, seasoned with sensation, and illuminated by a lofty mind—yet it resembles only an expensive coffin and the rare and beautiful flowers that decorate the corpse. Preaching that kills, on the other hand, can also be unlearned, lacking freshness of thought and feeling. In a careless, irregular style, it loses itself in tasteless generalities or tedious peculiarities. It has neither the air of the prayer room nor the study and is distinguished neither by sound thoughts nor by expression nor by prayer.

How dismal such preaching is! This preaching of the letter concerns itself with the surface and the shadow of things, and not with the things themselves. It does not penetrate to the interior. It has no deep insight into the hidden life of the Word of God, nor does it grasp it. It is outwardly true, but the exterior is merely the shell that must be broken to penetrate to the core. The letter may be dressed in a way that is attractive and modern, but its attraction is not related to God, and in heaven, such fashion does not exist.

No sermon without God's presence

The fault lies with the preacher. God did not form him. He was never in God's hands like clay in the potter's. He is preoccupied with the sermon, its central idea and its conclusion, its line and its impressive power; but he has never sought, explored, and experienced the depths of God. He has never stood before the "high and exalted throne," never heard the song of the seraphim. He has never felt the breath of that awe-inspiring holiness and groaned in utter self-abandonment and anguish, aware of his weakness and guilt. He has never allowed the living coal of God's altar to renew his life, to touch, purify, and ignite his heart.

His ministry may draw people to him, to the church, to its outward form, but not to God, not to a holy communion with Him. The church is painted, but not built up; satisfied, but not sanctified. Life is suppressed. The city of our God becomes the city of the dead; the congregation a graveyard—not an army prepared for battle. Praise and prayer are stifled; worship is dead. The preacher and his preaching thus contribute to sin, not holiness, and populate hell instead of heaven.

No sermon without prayer

Preaching that kills is preaching without prayer. Without prayer, the preacher creates death, not life. The preacher who is weak in prayer is also weak in his task of imparting life-giving power. The preacher who neglects prayer as a crucial element in his personal life has robbed his preaching of its life-giving power.

Professional prayer still exists, but it only serves to diminish the power of preaching. Professional prayer dampens and kills both preaching and prayer. A large part of the lack of devotion and the complacent, dismissive attitude in communal prayer can be attributed to professional prayer from the pulpit.

In many pulpits, prayers are long, rambling, dry, and empty. Lacking anointing and the Spirit, they fall like frost upon worship. They are deadening prayers. A call to brief, living prayer, prayer that truly comes from the heart, prayer through the Holy Spirit—direct, decisive, fervent, and simple—is needed. A school that teaches preachers to pray as God intends prayer would be far more beneficial to true piety, true worship, and true preaching than all theological schools combined.

How do I implement it?

Stop! Let's think for a moment! Where do we stand? What are we doing? Preaching to kill? Praying to kill? Let us pray to God, the great God, the Creator of all worlds, the Judge of all people. What reverence, what simplicity, what sincerity, what inner truth is required for this! How sincere we must be! How heartfelt!

Prayer to God is the most excellent practice, the highest endeavor of humankind, something utterly real. Shouldn't we forever turn our backs on the abominable, deadly preaching and prayer, and truly pray and preach so sincerely that life is created? Only in this way do we set the most powerful force in motion, and only in this way do we draw from God's inexhaustible abundance to satisfy the needs of humankind.

EM Bounds (1835 – 1913)

From "Strength Through Prayer," courtesy of IHREMEDIA