Sounds, Silences, Spaces. 8.14.2025

     In looking at the printed page you will find several kinds of space. There is intentional space, and unintentional space. The space between characters, words, clauses, sentences, paragraphs, and discourse should be more than unused paper. All words should matter. Even the ones we don’t use. Particularly the ones we don’t use. 

    Last week we focused on understanding and evaluating what is central and what is peripheral. As a Scholar Pastor you not only read and interpret, but you also write and present your conclusions from your study. My reminder in this essay is that you need to choose your words carefully. Those that you use, and those that you do not use. 

    Modern word-processing and typographical tools require greater discipline than the tools most of us grew up with. When writing long-hand or typing it was beneficial to work with care because editing would eventually require a final draft and “clean” copy for pulpit or to be handed in. Every word needed to be chosen carefully which also meant that the unchosen words were also selected with diligence. It was easier to add than to subtract but each required compositional skill lest a total rewrite become necessary. 

    In ministry we are constantly tempted to make hasty mistakes because there is always something more, something else to do—and more to say or write. The tools at our disposal can work against the need to preach and teach with restrained excellence. How can we resist the temptation to overdo things? How do we resist overkill? Excessive chatter overwhelms contemplative silence and eliminates essential brooding space. How can one understand when they cannot think? How can someone think if every sermon is so full of information that it does not ask relevant questions and does not present the listener with resonating silence? 

    The complications of 21st century tools require a systematic approach to composition that allows for multiple drafts. If we don’t build in speed bumps, we will blow merrily past the need to provide silence and space as well as sound in our sermons and lessons. 

““Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!”” (Psalm 46:10 ESV)

Though we are called to provide information and wisdom to our congregations, much of that guidance will be descriptive rather than prescriptive. We will be showing as well as telling. We will be pointing to God and exegeting texts which leave little room for contemporary application. They are texts which are transformative, specifically because they seek agreement and assent apart from action. They truly call us to be present, still, and contemplative before the Lordship of Jesus. It is in these reflective moments that we must be most restrained. Do not be afraid of those moments in the pulpit when the only thing heard is your own breathing. Do not be wary of silence. Do not fill the divine space found in the text with overindulgent word smithing. Learn to know when enough is enough. 

    The first step down this pathway of restraint is to constantly ask “What does the text say?” We know the Bible so well that it is tempting to smuggle our pre-understandings into our exegetical work. It is often these presuppositions which become the basis for over-reaching. We are clear about what the text says but insist on inserting our own concerns or the foci of modern life, hoping to create a context for application which is not there. Letting the text shape the sermon is an act of faith and a sign of growing maturity as an exegete. 

    The Post-Modern Church has become overly dependent on immediate, relevant, application of Biblical texts to daily circumstances and life. Even when those texts do not allow for that kind of application. There are entire passages of the Bible which inculcate specific beliefs, understandings, or theological conclusions. They cannot be reduced to immediately applicable bullet points. This is why so many contemporary believers are easily misled; it is a direct consequence of being mis-fed. 

    A sermon or lesson not only consists of the disciplined choice and deployment of words but also an equally disciplined choice of what to omit. When I was young, I was generally looking for as much content as I could cram into a sermon. Now I understand that sometimes the text speaks best when it is given space for silence to resonate.

Edges and Centers 8.7.2025

 When I was a wee lad sports teams were built according to a fairly universal, predictable, and time-tested plan.

• Baseball=Strong up the middle. 

• Basketball=Strong in the paint.

• Football=Strong inside running. 

    I’m not sure if there is any analysis of this phenomenon and it certainly has changed over the years. In the 21st Century, particularly in football and basketball the key is the edge rather than the middle. In an attempt to keep these sports contemporary there has been an unrelenting focus on scoring, at the expense of all else. Baseball is an odder duck because of the nature of the game. The defense has the ball and the older concept of strength up the middle from catcher to middle infielders to center fielder still seems to pertain. There is, however, a way that the pronounced move from the center to the edge pervades even baseball. We see it in terms of expectations for pitchers. Today the thought is that a “good” pitcher does a very few things well (speed and spin) and things like durability, grit, the ability to win with bad stuff—has all been shuttled aside for a new conception of the game. Any way you slice it there is no Wilt Chamberlin, Jim Brown, or Bob Gibson. Things are different. Purists would claim that they are not better. Just different. 

    Even the proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is constantly wrestling with this evolution. Whether public worship, leadership structure, or the preaching moment we are constantly tempted to reconsider what is most important and to swap the center for the edge. The constant question, not unlike the situation with contemporary sports is whether anything is gained. Is it better? Will it be more resilient? What have we lost?

Paul’s constant calibration

    In his epistles Paul is constantly calibrating the work of Church leadership, whether local or his own delegates, to the work of maintaining a strong center against the ever-encroaching edges. A central reason for keeping things rightly aligned is that cultural and social elements tend to drive those change agents seeking to move the conversation from the periphery to the middle. This usually begins with the adaptation and adoption of an otherwise neutral tool from the culture and falling in freaking love with it. Every hoops squad wants to be able to shoot dependable outside shots and to use the 3-pointer as an advantage. Now it has now become the whole point. What were great, high-percentage shots are now scorned.  Making that edge strategy the whole point has changed the nature of the game of basketball and the kinds of players who become superstars. The same is true of pitching. We now have hurlers who can reliably hit 100+ miles an hour. They never finish games and often have only a few seasons in their abused arms. When edge strategies supplant the center, the result is often change that redefines entirely the point of the organization. And friends, I’m not talking about the National League—I’m talking about Christ’s Church. 

    In a sense the entire point of 1 Corinthians is an argument for keeping the center secure in the face of edge encroachment. The things Paul addresses—good leaders, the purpose of marriage, use of spiritual gifting, theological drift, and economic disparity in a congregation—all are issues that should be dealt with in a well-rounded Christ-focused community. The problem in Corinth was that they kept moving edge issues into the center, losing track of the main purpose of the church. 

Contemporary Observations

1. What is central must be constantly reinforced. “but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles,” (1 Corinthians 1:23 ESV). Allowing the culture or what other believers are doing to determine what is central is the recipe for disaster. 

2. Not all issues are easily addressed. We should seek to provide information which is as simple as necessary. 

3. The church can both be nimble and secure the center. Creative engagement in culture does not demand a shifting center. If it did, the Church would have been completely culturally assimilated generations ago. 

4. Not everything that makes us uncomfortable must be immediately addressed as an evil. Paul said we preach Christ. Why not do so in word and deed, allow for the Spirit to move and see what happens?

5. We need to understand Scripture on its own terms and recognize that while universally true, there are issues that it does not address and that we will need to make some difficult calls. 

    Not all truths are equally important. Some require greater investment if they are to be learned. Some require greater diligence if they are to be applied. All require greater attention if they are to become habits. 

The contemporary Church has spent too much time chasing its tail, allowing the center to weaken and the periphery to define both doctrine and preaching. Everything from COVID denial to Christian nationalism, to unbiblical preaching, and a vast morass of distractions and chaotic thinking flows from an inability to identify and stand upon the central doctrines of the faith. 

    It is not duct tape that will allow the center to hold but the weekly decision of preachers and teachers to make a clear distinction between edge issues and the center. If we fail at this we ultimately will preach, not Christ, but our own nightmares, fantasies, and delusions. We have two jobs. Maintain the center, call out heresy 

Well then...7.31.2025

     “Well then…” These words can be uttered in a variety of contexts and can disclose a variety of different mindsets. They can potentially be positive, negative, or even a neutral response to different contexts. The power of these words is that they assume that we (you and/or I) are moving on to the next thing. Whether we have triumphed, been defeated, or simply find ourselves moving along. We can say “well then” and figure out what is next. 

    There are various times and seasons of our lives that are significant “well then” moments. Some of them are biggies. Consider graduations, marriages, and new ministry opportunities. These are moments that are points of closure as well as beginnings. These are the moments when a considered “well then” helps us to consider what we will do, where we will go, how we will act, and whether we will be changed or not. The young graduate, candidate for ministry, or bride who does not think anything is changing is in for a rude awakening! A deep breath, a considered look to the future, and a pause with a “well then”, helps the person transitioning to adapt with purpose and determination rather than just letting things happen to her. 

    Saying “well then” to ourselves, a colleague, a friend, our even our spouse is a reminder that even the end of significant moments of our lives also serve as beginnings. As we adjust to the wedding band, hang the diploma, or get acclimatized to new surroundings we are given the opportunity to look at this new situation with fresh eyes. Learning from our mistakes but leaving them behind, we can lean into the future with hope, purpose, and determination. 

    I have often found in my life that the very next thing that I say after a good, heartfelt “well then”, is a reflective “now what?” The key to considering what comes next is clarity about where you have been and what you have accomplished. You can’t really inhabit “now what” until you are absolutely certain that you have finished what came before, paused through a period of “well then”, and are prepared to invest your time, talent, and treasure in “now what”. I have found that quite a bit of personal failure comes from not allowing enough time to ask these pertinent questions, in the right order, with sufficient patience. I am reminded of the following passage:

“Philippians 3:12   Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Philippians 3:13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, Philippians 3:14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:12-14 ESV)

This is kind of a “well then”— “Now what” text. We pause with Paul to reflect. We join him in considering who we are in Christ. And we consider what is to come in our journey of faith. Though he documents this process in this text to the Philippian Church, this kind of pause before proceeding lies at the heart of successful Christian living. If there is no pause to reflect on the past and prepare for the future, if past and present merely collapse onto one another we will grow restless and unfocused. We need those moments. We need to look back and put the past “to bed”. Say “well then” and move on to the next thing. It is hard to say, “now what”, and to move on to the next thing when we cannot let the last thing go.