In my post of random thoughts on the experience of a sabbatical, I mentioned that I hadn't missed preaching and wasn't too sure what to make of that. My guess is that some people - maybe not fellow ministers - may have been ever so slightly shocked at such a comment. Does this man not feel called, after all? Is he burnt-out, needing a longer sabbatical? Is it time for him to be put out to graze?
Well, maybe it is! Or maybe we need to think a little bit harder about the preaching task and the pastoral role. Misunderstanding its nature and purpose can be problematic.
Essentially, preaching is not just about understanding the text well enough so that it can be explained to others in a helpful and, on occasions, memorable way. It isn't even explanation and application in a generic sense that allows anyone, anywhere, to benefit just as easily from it.
Rather, it is asking what do these people and this church, at this moment in this society, need to know and feel and do, and all within the swirling vortex of the world, the flesh and the devil. And the answers to those questions have to come from a holistic grasp of the fullness of biblical revelation, in it's relentlessly gospel-shaped and Christ-focused momentum. Quick and easy answers will almost inevitably be shallow and simply won't do.
It is, therefore, truly hard work. To be consistently creative is deeply demanding - creative not in the sense of being original but having the necessary prophetic edge and insight, together with a deeply-felt pastoral awareness and empathy, that all worthwhile preaching bears.
Preaching has been compared to cooking for the family - sometimes the meals are plain but nourishing, at other times they're a bit more special. The reality, though, is more complex: some family members have been malnourished and can only begin to eat slowly; others are sick and cannot take some foods; others need big hearty meals and still others are fussy eaters. Some have never eaten as part of a family. Others don't even think they're hungry. Try cooking one meal for that family and you'll begin to see and feel something of the complexity - the fraught complexity - of the preaching task.
Some have a hobby they love; they enjoy it and are good at it. It is stimulating and satisfying. Occasionally, it's possible for that hobby to become a source of additional income or even to become a full-time occupation. When that happens, they feel like they've landed on their feet - doing what they utterly love and being paid for it! Preaching is not a well-loved hobby that some even get paid for. It is nothing like that, not even close. Preaching is not the theology-lover's hobby-as-employment. If you're a preacher who feels that it is, well maybe you need to step back and really think about it.
But what about the sheer romance of preaching - isn't that enough to engage heart and soul in the task? Well, there are preachers whose description of the work has that kind of aura to it, but, honestly? Let's be super-clear: the preacher isn't the Lone Ranger, riding to the rescue; he's far more like a battlefield medic - and there is nothing romantic, not ever, about severed limbs and gaping holes where a stomach used to be, or the sight of entrails, the howls of unrelenting agony and the foul stench that will haunt the endless nightmares. You think that all sounds romantic? Neither is the call to preach.
But, but, but...isn't it also glorious? Yes it is, it really is. Ministry is radiant with glory - the glory that streams from the cross of Jesus.
It's no wonder that, sometimes, some of us who are called to that task are quite glad to lay it aside for a time. And even to not miss it.
