A PLEA - July 31st, 2009
You have builded temples in His name
Of mortar and brick and stone, With windows of glass most beautifully stained,
With tower and spire and dome; But what do we of the by-ways care
For structure and line and trim? Out in the dust of the lonely road
We only ask for Him!
You have blazed His name across the night
In letters of flickering fire; In rainbow hues you have said “Come in”;
You have shouted your desire; Oh, what do we care for the many lights
When our heart’s high hope is dim? Show us the light of Bethlehem’s Star
That we may go to Him! Read the rest of this entry »
It is a very strange thing, Oswald, but people who can scarcely read or write their own names will be eager to tell you how to preach. They can tell you what, how, and when to preach, and hand out advice by the chunks. The less they know the more they can tell you. The least successful man in your congregation will tell you loudest and oftenest how to succeed in your work.
You will find that numbers of high school and first-year college boys and girls will drop around to tell you how to run your church and what to preach. They will be very sure and earnest and strong in their convictions. From them you can find out what is wrong with you, your church and the world. Because they know so much, they will be your severest critics. If you want a lively time, Oswald, scrap with them; argue with them; call them flaming youth and preach on “The Wickedness of the Young People in Our Town.”
It is the average preacher’s task, Oswald, to preach perhaps over one hundred sermons each year; men who are called on for addresses before colleges, clubs, conventions, etc., will perhaps find this number doubled. Then there are weekly prayer meeting talks, funeral addresses, and study courses, besides series of sermons for revivals. When you are preached out and the barrel is empty, what then, Oswald? Read the rest of this entry »
You will be told, Oswald, in schools and divers books, what NOT to do with your hands; but never will you hear or read anything about what to DO with them. Doubtless with your deep intellect and ingenuity you can devise various ways to dispose of them while preaching.
There are preachers who wave them in the air and who pound the pulpit-stand before them, rythmically driving every point home. Pockets are a convenient parking place. A watch chain is a godsend since it can keep one hand occupied and will solve exactly one-half of your problem. The solution of the other half may rest with your glasses; they can be taken off and put on many times during a sermon. Yes, on the whole, Oswald, I believe the watch chain and the glasses to be happy answers to the problem of what to do with your hands. Read the rest of this entry »
FUNERALS - July 24th, 2009
The hardest task the preacher has to face is the preaching of funerals, especially those of suicides or non-Christians. Many kind and lovely things may be said of the Christians at death. There is all the comfort of God to be offered to the sorrowing relatives of these. But how very difficult to find any message at all, upon other occasions! And it is very strange but often true, that the meaner the man, the more horrible his death, the more is wanted a big church funeral by his relatives. It may be that they feel that an ostentatious funeral in some measure makes up for, or disguises, the facts in the case.
A man may curse the church, and the preacher, and God, and yet when he dies his family will send for the minister and arrange for a church funeral. The man has never attended church, his family never go, they have never given a cent to the upkeep of the church, and now they never consider that it takes a ton of coal to heat the building; that men must obtain leave from their jobs to sing; and that the preacher stays awake all night wondering what to say. It does not seem to occur to them that they owe anything at all to the church or to the pastor for this service. Read the rest of this entry »
There are weddings and weddings. There are weddings at five o’clock in the morning and weddings at eleven o’clock at night. There are weddings in the pastor’s study, in the pastor’s home, in the bride’s home, in the church building, in a friend’s garden, in a boat and in an airplane. They are married in overalls, in print dresses, in satin and orange blossoms, in tuxedos, in white flannels, with coats or without coats; with ring and flowers, without ring and flowers, and sometimes with the proverbial shotgun. They come on foot, on horseback, in taxis, in ancient and complaining Fords, on motorcycles, and in the latest, slickest and most expensive cars.
The pastor’s home is expected to be open at all hours to any wedding party. It is rather disconcerting at times, say on a Saturday at noon, and the children dirty, with liver and onions cooking for lunch and the odor penetrating through the whole house, and the entire place in the throes of Saturday’s baking and cleaning, to have a couple arrive to get married without any previous announcement. How hastily does the harassed Mrs. Oswald shut the onion smell into the kitchen, shoo the children into the back yard, slip a clean dress over her head with one hand, and with the other do a sleight-of-hand with the mop and other obscene house-cleaning materials, all the while making a mental note that this job should be worth a five! Read the rest of this entry »
You may try to persuade yourself that this is an ordinary book — in order that you may find comfort in the persuasion - but you cannot do so and be fair to facts.