The Hard Work of Appearing Effortless 5.1.2025
I honestly don’t really know where to start this week. I didn’t quite finish my message yesterday and had a coffee meeting this morning. I finished my final edit around noon-thirty and have spent much of this afternoon tool-sharpening and dirt-turning. During that process I did a fairly routine search for “Sermon writing software.” Oh, my goodness! The marketplace has really taken off for software specifically designed to “Ease the burden” or “Save time” so that busy pastors like you and me can do the “important” work of ministry.
Excuse me…preaching is the important work of ministry. And I know that you might think that I rant and rave about this all the time. You would be (partly) correct.
This is important because there is embedded epistemology and an unspoken ideology that drives much of this work. I think that both the thought process (epistemology) and the thought content (ideology) undermine productive thinking and productive habits.
There is one particular phrase that caught my eye this afternoon. I will focus on that phrase this week and over the next several weeks we will examine some of the epistemological and practical consequences of how we choose to work. And I apologize. Epistemology 3 times (now four) in a single article is, I know, pushing the limit. The phrase that caught my eye: “Effortless sermon preparation.” This phrase was prominent in the marketing for one of the emerging generation of AI powered sermon writing tools. There are many. I sort of stopped counting around four. They have the same general structure. This basic editing function became prevalent in Logos and two older pre-AI tools Sermonary, and Sermon Central Sermon Writer. As those two tools added AI, they met with competition from the numerous start-ups offering to help us. My contention is that, if you don’t know how to do something, having a tool do it for you, doesn’t mean that you now know how to do it. It just means that you know how to get what you want or need from someone else’s work. I think you know what the word for that is but let us set that aside for the moment and consider what it really takes to appear effortless in the pulpit.
Work. It takes hard work. When a person begins preaching, he or she will spend way too much time in the pulpit thinking. Thinking in the pulpit will always look stilted and clumsy. When we are young, we also take messages into the pulpit with unanswered questions or unresolved issues. Rather than providing a message from God we invite people to help us answer our questions or resolve those issues. There may be a time and a place for that, a seminar or lesson perhaps. At least once a week every Church needs a preacher who can stand up, speak with conviction, and say— “Thus says the Lord.” When we do that—when we proclaim convictions rather than process it can look effortless.
Again, work is what makes this happen, not short cuts. If you are too busy to do the hard work, you have a misunderstanding of what the preaching ministry is about. You don’t need a new tool; you need a new outlook.
To explain this, I want to use three illustrations from other areas of life that will be helpful in understanding how this new generation of tools will handicap or hinder your growth as a preacher. Despite all the promise of saved time and greater opportunity these tools are tools. Good shovels are still shovels. At some point we must simply make the commitment to being better diggers. Now, I’m a tool guy, don’t get me wrong. I have invested time, talent, and treasure in acquiring and learning how to use the best professional tools for ministry. The best tool in the hand of a fool is a weapon. Let’s keep that in mind, shall we?
Training Wheels
Very few people climb on a two-wheeler when they are 5 years old and master the process all at once. Balance, inertia, and effort all contribute to the process of riding a bike. So, when we are young and just starting out, we begin with training wheels so that, if we omit one of the factors that keeps us upright, we won’t topple over. Once we master the whole process the training wheels are superfluous—even an impediment. Dad takes them off the bike, and away we go.
This new generation of AI tools has the feel of training wheels, without the implicit bargain that they are temporary.
Shallow Pool
I am not a swimmer. I have had lessons, but for reasons my wife and I cannot figure out, I don’t float. I know what swimming is. I know the technique; I know the theory—I just can’t. A couple times a year I hit the pool (Usually at Christian Service Camp). I can flop around enough to not drown myself.
One temptation is to get into the shallow end of the pool, walk out till the water is just below my mouth, flail my arms and call it swimming. However, since I’m standing on the bottom, I’m not swimming. It doesn’t matter what I call it. I’m standing upright. And this new generation of tools which does all the heavy lifting of sermon preparation gives the false impression that the user is swimming when what they are really doing is standing on the bottom of the pool. If you took away the tool and expected them to do the same work, they would sink to the bottom.
Microwave Oven
My Mother and Father taught and expected their five children to learn how to cook. When I was in Jr. High and High School it was not uncommon for me to be required to cook dinner for the family which I enjoyed far more than doing the dishes. Of course, now, we have Microwave ovens and pre-prepared entrees that can be popped into the machine, heated quickly, and eaten on the run. Using a microwave is convenient. It saves time. It is helpful and at times, essential. But using a Microwave is not and will never be cooking. A person who thinks that they are cooking when they pop a TV dinner in the Microwave is deceiving themselves, and generally, no one else.
In the same fashion the new generation of AI tools is not by its nature new content. It is not designed for your people in your town. By its nature it is generic, reheated, rehashed, even regurgitated information.
Which brings us to the moral question. I found this phrase on one site. “…**** is designed differently. Instead of requiring users to purchase individual books, it leverages hundreds of billions of data points curated from reliable, trusted sources.” I own the books in my library, whether found in Logos, Accordance, or Paper books. I don’t “leverage hundreds of billions of data points, I READ THEM. At best Artificial Intelligence does a quick search of masses of data, and at worst it steals the data. If I go to the local Italian restaurant, buy an entree, set it on the counter, and then re-heat when I am ready to eat, I HAVE NOT COOKED anything. And anybody who shares the meal is not fooled.
So, what exactly is the take-away here? Appearing effortless takes hard work. There are no short-cuts. You have to do the work. You must buckle down. The term artificial intelligence is a classic overstated misnomer. It is neither artificial nor intelligent. It is a parlor trick done on massive data sets—which are often not even the intellectual property of the entity doing the crawling! The data is real. The computers are real. God knows the electricity is real. It’s not magic, it is merely the next evolutionary step, not in thinking but in information processing. And all that money, all that energy, all that processing power is implemented to mimic the three pounds of God-given installed intelligence on your shoulders. Use your brain, wield the tools, deliver your message.