So Why, Exactly, Should I Pay Attention to the Sermon?
by Rich Hannon | 17 September 2024 |
I’m getting old, and I’ve heard a lot of sermons in my life. But, quality aside, within the past few years it has occurred to me that they could be categorized based on their structure, not content. Sermons can roughly be divided into two forms:
- Leading with scripture: the preacher opens with biblical texts, then elaborates on the material, trying to extract the meaning and hopefully its relevance to our lives.
- Leading with a life problem we might face: then moves to biblical material, showing how it can address such difficulties, providing relief and spiritual comfort.
These approaches are opposites. Bible texts first, then their application. Or problem first, then utilize biblical material to show how we might mitigate the difficulty.
Which is better?
I tumbled to this categorization in part because I’ve had some dissonance over the years in my sermon listening experience. And one source for this, I concluded, was that I strongly preferred the second approach to the structure. But why?
The answer, in hindsight, now seems evident. As much as I hold the Bible in high regard, if a sermon begins with some text(s), it makes the presumption that this chosen biblical chunk will actually be meaningful to the audience. Perhaps it will, but the preacher has to make a compelling connection to prevent the listener from checking out and checking their email instead.
More importantly, why should people try to follow until a tie-in is revealed? Now, if the listener is already seeking more biblical knowledge, they might be motivated to hang in there, depending on the sermon quality as it progresses, or perhaps the anticipated ability of the speaker.
Conversely, the second approach would begin with a problem in real life, then apply scripture as insight toward resolution. So it seems reasonable, especially as biblical literacy and its corresponding authority has waned in modernity, that many in the audience might need to be persuaded that what they are hearing is actually worth hearing.
Pressing felt needs
In a worship service context I think many listeners would, a priori, be interested in a Bible-first sermon. But every audience comes to church with pressing felt needs, the problems and pains of living. So, if the preacher starts by first laying out some life situation we all might experience, one that impacts our spiritual equilibrium, it seems much more likely for the biblical material to then “land” with the audience when presented as application.
Church sermons occur in an “insider” context. Some visitors might not be Christian, but most attendees didn’t just wander in out of the rain. They are overwhelmingly likely to be acculturated to Adventism, even if part of the group might not officially be members. At minimum, a congregation will probably have more biblical literacy than the surrounding community. So considering whether one sermon approach is superior might just be mildly interesting compared to whether the preacher can produce a compelling exposition, however it is structured.
But now let’s pull back from a church service setting and look at denominational Adventism.
A broader context
The Advent movement has been around since the mid-19th century and has an evangelistic track record, both in method and message. In the pioneer era church the initial target audience was rural America, a population closest to our founders’ experience. This group was somewhat biblically literate and had respect for and interest in what the Bible might teach.
It was also a time when this subculture had far fewer options for education and entertainment. So evangelism used a sermon model, and could mostly proceed with a Bible-first approach.
But we’re a long way from that world now. If a preacher in church today might first need a life-problems motivator, how much more would that apply to the denomination when presenting its message to a 21st-century public?
Adventist evangelistic methods have evolved from those pioneer days, albeit reluctantly. The denomination has not been an early adopter of cutting-edge technology to reach a broader and changing audience. A somewhat (in)famous example of denominational intransigence was the struggle H.M.S. Richards had with the brethren when he began his initial foray into radio. But—however slowly—the church has incorporated new media after Richards, first television (Faith for Today, and It Is Written), then satellite TV and cable, and finally the internet with its various presentation options like websites, YouTube, Facebook, etc.
But Adventism’s message has struggled with change.
The “blueprint”
The initial impetus for Adventism to form a denomination was to preach what has become known as the Three Angels’ Messages. This is roughly defined as God’s last and crucial appeal to the world before we reach its climax with the soon Second Coming of Jesus.
The name Seventh-day Adventist might seem to emphasize two co-equal doctrines, but the Sabbath has always been proclaimed within the context of its role in last-day events. It is Adventism’s historical identity to be those people preaching heaven’s final message of judgment to the world.
So, if you begin by believing that you have a God-mandated message, and the world is going to end very soon, the extent and shape of your presentation seems to form naturally, without need for introspective analysis.
But now, two problems (at minimum) present themselves.
First, 180 years have passed since the 1844 Great Disappointment. So it becomes more and more problematic to confidently proclaim that the Second Coming is “even at the doors” (Matt. 24:33 KJV), when generations have passed without fulfillment.
Second, however doctrinally valid the Three Angels’ Messages might be, they are not the heart of the gospel. It does not address the needs we humans have in our daily lives.
The metaphor of “blueprint” is less frequently invoked these days, at least in my hearing or reading. But the underlying concept has remained central to church identity. Adventism has historically believed there is an essentially unquestionable message priority and boundary in what the church stands for and must therefore preach to the world.
But please note what this metaphor implies. Blueprints are generally abstractions reflecting a fixed, immovable, to-be-constructed object, like a building. Using such a metaphor strongly infers that Adventism’s purpose, and possibly even methodology, is correspondingly fixed. Change would destabilize the referenced edifice. Our denomination might preach, at times, about other things, but our raison d’être has already been laid out and should not be modified, or we have failed heaven.
But problematically for a fixed message, the world changes over time. The Greek philosopher Heraclitus famously quipped “No man ever steps in the same river twice,” meaning that even what seems to be static, is not. Both rivers and mankind morph. And never has the rate of change been greater than via the transformations that have created modernity.
An existential dilemma
Here, then, is the Adventist dilemma. How does belief in a “blueprint” mission work out in this world of change? Well, if you look at how the church is struggling to reach the modern mind, I’d say not so well.
At issue is the need for relevance to address felt needs in our present culture. This is contrasted with a presumably divinely mandated and thus unalterable message, but one that first needs the target audience to believe that its underpinning authority—the Bible—actually is an authority. And acceptance of that premise has dramatically waned since the pioneers gave their Loud Cry to a rural 19th-century American audience.
In this context my argument for a needs-first approach to sermon structure is greatly magnified. Human longings, at their deepest level, are always essentially universal. They do not really shift with culture. As a short list, we need physical and emotional shelter, forgiveness for failings, empathy, love, and finally hope that transcends death. Christianity claims that it can satisfy these heart-felt, foundational needs.
But the Three Angels’ Messages don’t really speak to these core problems. Bluntly stated, Adventist outreach has a niche message, however true it may be.
And it can be a tough sell today.
Persecution
At the center of the church’s eschatology is the assertion that there will be persecution of Sabbath keepers. Now, it is impossible to prove a negative, and I have minimal understanding of what could actually trigger the Second Coming. But this premise has at least two related hurdles to overcome, for any sort of near-term fulfillment.
First, Adventism has hardly any visibility on the world stage, as far as the church’s generating some reason for being persecuted. Second, any Sabbath legislation would have a massive impact on Jews. The political consequences then would be so severe that, while there has always been antisemitism in the world, putting a Sabbath law into effect would have a very high bar to clear.
Adventism seems to be stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If you have a “blueprint,” then you are trying to instantiate a fixed message in a Heraclites-transient world. But if modernity isn’t buying what you’re selling, what are your options? For the historic Adventist mindset, muting the eschatology constitutes a sell-out. For progressives, it would allow the church to shift into more Christian centrism, to better offer people with felt needs here and now, solutions from the core gospel message.
But this trade-off elicits the question of “How then is Adventism unique?” Are we now to mirror Methodism, just with a funky past? The church’s distinction has always centered around eschatology.
But, at least in the so-called economic first-world, this message isn’t resonating well, hence the graying of membership and decline of many churches. And a core reason can be captured simply with the pragmatic question: “Exactly why should I pay attention?”
Rich Hannon is a retired software engineer. His avocations include philosophy, geology, and medieval history.
To comment, click/tap here.
