The Workshop of the Wordsmith 2.26.2026
I can’t think of anything more pointless than spending hours researching, note taking, composing, editing, then preaching a message-and promptly forgetting everything you learned throughout that process. I cannot figure out who it benefits or how. It seems like a waste for a preacher to go through that entire process only to forget it. And it seems to indicate to a congregation that there is no long-term purpose to the preaching event. One Sunday, one shot…then on to the next week. This would make church somewhat less arduous than, say, kindergarten. We expect 5-year-olds to retain the alphabet when we move on to numbers. We rightly assume that both letters and numbers will be supplemented—not replaced by shapes and colors. Yet we do not seem to have the same standard for what goes on in the preacher’s study where the work of one week can be completely detached from next. This is not a sermon problem. It is a work problem.
To change how we preach requires a long view and an appreciation for those mechanics of learning we discussed last week. This week we need to consider a more theoretical issue. This is the kind of issue we often neglect when our formal studies end and we become responsible for planning and executing our own ongoing learning. What we do in our studies week after week goes beyond preparing 50-52 individual sermons. We engage in ongoing learning because we are called to feed our flock and starving shepherds are poor workmen.
We need to think back to our undergraduate days and how we commonly approached the continuum of class—>homework—>study—>exam. Virtually all students can be divided into two groups: learners and cribbers. Learners understand that what they get in college prepares them not only for life and vocation but to acquire on their own the rest (often the bulk) of the knowledge that they will need professionally. It has always been the case that the body of knowledge taught in any academic discipline is growing faster than what can be captured in an undergraduate or even graduate academic career. Doctors, Lawyers, Accountants, and yes, Preachers will spend much of their career simply managing the ever-growing body of domain knowledge that must be mastered in their area of “expertise.”
The other class of students, the cribbers, only prepare for the next milestone. In College that meant learning quickly and by rote the facts or data for an exam, paper, presentation, or project—then quickly forgetting it. For those in the preaching ministry that would mean every sermon is an island unto itself detached from the information learned before, after, and during this week’s study. There is no cumulative carry-over because nothing was really learned except for the few kernels of truth or pithy witticisms that made their way into the final message.
This may be a model that generates good grades, but it does not necessarily produce lifelong learners who can pursue a lifetime of learning. This does not help a preacher to fully mature into their professional role. This does not keep the cupboard stacked with ingredients for ongoing preaching and teaching. This model may produce decent individual sermons, but it will likely not create a congregation able to anticipate and engage in deepening growth and discipleship. It will rarely create momentum.
We have been called by God to study scripture! We are not only to be chefs preparing weekly fare to feed God’s people but gourmands who understand why we choose and how we deploy the bread we feed our congregation. “Well preacher, most people just don’t want to get that deep, so I just give them what they can stomach.” When you preach well. When you plan meticulously. When you look over the horizon as well as next week. YOU CAN CHANGE PEOPLES DIET. You can help your Church to desire a more mature weekly repast at the table of God’s Word.
To do this, to provide a better, more thoughtful, long-term learning experience for the congregation means that I need to regularly reconsider and meticulously monitor my own learning experience. And that means primarily, no short-cuts! No cribbing! If we want to do the right things we need to consider what wrong things are holding us back.
Cribbing is for those who find themselves short of time. In college there were many reasons—good and bad. Heavy class load. Inattention. Laziness. When the paper is due or the exam upcoming it no longer matters where the time went, you need to get up to speed, get a good grade, and move on.
None of these excuses really make much sense for someone in ministry. Even the busiest bi-vocational pastor knows when Sunday arrives. He or she can create long-term systems specifically tailored to their individual circumstances to maximize the amount of time for learning and to leverage that learning for a lifetime of ministry.
Not enough time is often the result of poor, misdirected planning. If you don’t have enough time to do the most important thing you do to the best of your ability…you need to change your approach.
If time is a matter of how and when; depth is of a matter of what. Consider your library. If you were to choose any New Testament book to preach from, right this minute, how old and how fresh are the materials at your disposal. If your favorite commentator is Matthew Henry and your favorite lexicon is Thayer’s, you are not doing your best work. You are cribbing, not learning. It doesn’t matter if you memorize Matthew Henry in his magisterial language and quote from Thayer with punctilious accuracy—they are artifacts. The role that they play can be historical and developmental. But for crying out loud, if the first problem is time don’t waste any by investing and deploying tools that will not help you learn anything.
I have both tools in my library. There is nothing inherently wrong with them. They are not “incorrect.” They are also not authoritative or even used. The are only cited in recent literature as curiosities. Your tools are for work. They help you learn so that you can teach. They are not curiosities to keep on the shelf. The content of the Bible does not change but our approach and understanding of the Bible does, consequently how we study, and with what tools must also. And as much as we might like these and other older reference works, they are outdated, seldom quoted, and wholly superseded.
If you want to go deeper and challenge your congregation to join you on this voyage of discovery you must challenge yourself. You will need to do the hard work of study, of weighing and comparing tools to make sure that you are continuing to learn and grow.
There will be long periods of uninterrupted study with no direct impact on this Sunday! You are not cribbing, you are learning. Cribbing is short sighted. Learning is for life. If you want people to grow fully into the mature disciples they are intended to be, you must go deep into the text. Grow through your studies. Challenge what you know and believe. Then you will be able to challenge them to follow a similar path.
I’ve already gone on somewhat longer than I intended so let us consider a third obstacle to learning—connection. History, philology, geography, and some basic anthropology are concerns that enter the interpretation of Biblical texts. Really. They do. These are simply some of the academic disciplines that formalize the interrogatories of basic human experience: When, how, where, and why are basic constituent elements of human experience. When we preach, we connect these human elements to the theological and divine understanding of them disclosed in scripture. The Bible reveals God to us and our own nature as well.
When we are hurriedly cribbing rather than investing in deep learning the various aspects of human nature will be addressed in a haphazard, isolated, and superficial fashion. This is not how the Bible deals with these concerns. When we merely scratch the surface and make little connection between the text and reality it makes our preaching not only disconnected but somewhat parochial. Ranting and raving, declaiming and declaring what is and is not so may be exciting. This approach may even stir the emotions and will. Eventually the intellect will shrivel having discerned that such sermons are wholly detached from reality.
Considered learning, spread over a lifetime of connected, interdisciplinary study will ensure that you are able to come to any Biblical text, subject, or concern with a well-stocked pantry of knowledge to begin the process of preparing this sermon for these people at this time and in this place.
If you invest your time wisely, probe your resources deeply, and make proper connections between disciplines, you will aggregate the pool of information you may draw from for any sermon, lesson, or address. That is the essence of learning. Not random bits cobbled together that lose their coherence once this specific sermon is preached, but a growing body of interconnected knowledge that will make you a better preacher and a better pastor.
Preaching and the writing that proceeds it are fairly typical of what is now called knowledge work. We are required to think through a specific issue (our text). We analyze that text and integrate that analysis so that it can be understood by an “audience” that comes with varying experience to that topic. We use parallel cultural, social, and literary materials to enhance our congregation’s ability to understand the complexities of the text (illustration). And we provide avenues for application. What we do is somewhat different than other forms of knowledge work because we assume the authority of God lies behind every Biblical sermon, but we share many characteristics of other knowledge workers from students to journalists, to physicians.
I would describe this process of integrating new or emerging knowledge into our baseline understanding of the Word and the world, as the Mechanics of Learning. In discussing preaching and the preparation of sermons we don’t talk about these mechanics much because we assume that any educated person already employs them. Assuming that we don’t need to review our practices, renew our approach, or reconsider our methods, often leads to disaster. Thorough preparation should involve occasionally examining how we prepare and how we engage in the work.
I don’t want to go overboard and risk being incorrect about some insignificant detail so, let me say it like this; virtually all knowledge work in general, and preparing to preach in particular is a matter of the accomplishing the following tasks.
In preaching, our primary source material is the Bible. We study specific texts, and exegete them in proper context, for the purpose of public proclamation. This process of exegesis demands detailed study. The degree of study is determined by several factors. Age and experience, tenure in your current pulpit, level of both schooling and education, facility and comfort working in multiple ancient languages, and familiarity with critical materials.
So, we need exegetical and explanatory materials, we need historical and cultural materials, and we need materials that help us to understand our text in the broader context of the whole scripture. This kind of ongoing study is a lifelong pursuit for those who are called into the preaching ministry. As we go further and mature into the task, we will find that our accumulated reserve of resources grows. Our own analog and digital libraries will grow both in depth and breadth and we will have a library that precludes anxiety anytime a new opportunity presents itself. It took me around 30 years to have enough depth to not panic every time I begin a new sermon series.
Finding materials is the first step. Nearly as important is ranking your resources so that you have access to the best, most current research on the Bible and its world(s)—that fits within your budget. Not all materials are helpful, and some are so outdated or inaccurate that they are actually detrimental. You need to get proficient at this for a couple of reasons.
First, even though the Bible is thousands of years old, our current understanding is just that—current. Current understanding was different 100, 200, or 1000 years ago. We are not merely talking about the chauvinism of the present, many of the disciplines in Biblical studies have seen breakthroughs that we ignore at our peril. Even in Biblical studies the disciplines change. One illustration and then some recommendations.
The current text of the Greek New Testament is fundamentally the same as it was 300 years ago. However, the basis of the text is radically different because most of the underlying manuscripts had not yet been found and catalogued. Erasmus’ first edition of the Greek New Testament (the basis for the oft cited Textus Receptus) was based on 8 manuscripts—we now have cataloged access to more than 5,000. So, a really good introduction to textual criticism, reprinting a text more than 100 years old may have some historic interest but the actual information is virtually assured to be out of date. Many other Biblical disciplines share similar developments. Just two more: The Dead Sea Scrolls discovered in 1948, and the Nag Hammadi Library discovered in 1945 were critical to 20th century understanding of both Testaments. There are troves of introductions, commentaries, handbooks, encyclopedias, and dictionaries which are widely available in the public domain and wildly out of date—neither citing nor even acknowledging the two most significant discoveries to our craft in the last century. You can choose to read whatever you wish but it is an objective fact that some resources are better than others and a part of doing our job well is learning to rank those resources which we use.
There are basic goals to reading. We can read for entertainment or information, for example. Beyond that there specific, different ways to read a book, to pursue those broader goals. Let’s consider a few. Note, good readers practice many of these approaches concurrently.
These strategies, used singly, sequentially, or concurrently provide a consistent way to learn from written material. In our formal education we are taught how to cite and catalogue what we have read or intend to read, and hardly anything about how to read the various books, reference tools, technical articles, or monographs we encounter—much less novels, biographies, poetry, newsweeklies, or local newspapers. These skills we must learn on our own and the very best preachers you have heard, do something like this though they may not have reflectively thought about what they were doing. There are lots of sources of information available to us and they are not all the same. A variety of reading strategies and skills help us to make the most of this huge body of resources available to us.
Having considered approaches let us now turn to a physical habit we all need to cultivate. Reading with a pencil or pen in hand and a considered approach to marginalia. Write in your books. Start with your name prominently inscribed, stamped, or sealed in the front-matter and then everywhere else. Use colors, post its, underline, annotate, cross-reference. Make it yours. I always make a note on the back fly leaf of annotated or marked pages (sometimes including paragraph & line location, depending on density of my annotations) where I have underlined vertical lined, exclaimed, or questioned what an author has written.
Annotating your books and papers is a sign that they are for work, you are not collecting or holding them precious. They are tools and we derive the most profit from our tools when they bear the marks of ownership. I have been able to find a pithy quotation or tid-bit of information usable in a sermon from a wholly unrelated novel or biography because I had a hint of a memory that I was able to untether by finding a notation in my marginalia
Writing in our books should lead to writing about them. Making notes and culling quotes is how we learn from books. Note taking is the process of analyzing and assimilating what we have read. It is at this stage that we can clarify why we agree or disagree with an author. We can frame the specific arguments of this book in terms of the general approach to the topic in the broader literature.
Note taking is allows us to think critically and unhurriedly. Note taking when it is done well, consistently, and creatively is the doorway to our own compositional approach to writing sermons, essays, lessons, and papers.
Assimilated reading can be drawn upon without quotation, articulated without plagiarism, cited with accuracy, debated with integrity, and integrated broadly. In short…the mechanics of reading help us to learn with understanding. When we learn and understand we are then ready to share with others. One of the issues in the contemporary Church is an infatuation with applicability, utility, and immediacy.
The Bible is playing a long game. Both testaments have something essential to contribute to the Christian life. Much of what is provided cannot be rapidly taught, assimilated, or acted upon. The Bible wants to change our character and align our purpose with that of Jesus. We need to strive for preaching that is deep and wide and invite our congregations into our studies helping them to understand the long-term consequences of discipleship.
When we are lifelong learners going into the pulpit each week drawing from a variety of information streams and relating those resources to scripture, we help people to integrate and measure their own thinking according to scripture.
More than anything else the church right now needs leaders who are learners. Leaders who work diligently and own the information that they share with their hearers. That kind of commitment is contagious.
We need to stop offering quick fixes to immediate needs, the pragmatics of problem solving, and the meddling mediation of crisis. The old saw was that a preacher should be able to preach the congregation in the direction they need to go. Far too often contemporary preaching drives congregations into ditches where easy, immediate, short-term fixes to pressing problems can be applied in the place of long-term guidance for maturing disciples. Please, stop this. Or even better, don't start.
Practicing the mechanics of learning and honestly telling people what you are doing and why involves and includes them the Biblical, missional project of discipleship. They deserve nothing less, and Jesus asked for nothing more.
Much of our lives eludes quick, easy classification. As we grow older our parents appropriately begin a process of moving beyond clearly phrased unambiguous commands (Stop! Don’t! Wait! Etc.) To a more formative process of guidance. “What do you think?” “How would you do this?” Sometimes the guidance is even more subtle. “Hmmm.?!” or “Ok”. As we grow older and more mature, we need to be taught to rely on our own judgement. As believers we allow our judgement to be molded by scripture, heritage, and theology—but each of us must make individual decision regarding our lives.
When we are younger the questions we answer have mostly clear, black and white answers. As an analogy they are like test questions that are yes or no, true or false. The next step in our education is dealing with multiple choice questions where, presented with several options we must pick the right one, or at least the best one. Good parents and good teachers prepare us for the fact that most “tests” of life are neither. They are essay questions. They require years of preparation, and often additional years to draft.
True and false questions or even multiple-choice questions delude us into thinking that we have a finite amount of time to answer them and that the test is a sort of race. When we think of life itself as a race, we set ourselves up for a myriad of failures. Many of the testing circumstances of life require depth, thought, consideration, game-planning, and creative approaches. They are not races. Speed is not rewarded. Thorough, focused decision-making wins in the long run. What then does this behavioral or education insight have to do with preaching? Thank you for asking. Let me use an acronym to tell you want I mean by this approach to life and Ministry. Let me explain what I mean by P R E A C H.
Good preaching is...
Like an essay question on a test preaching requires patience. While we strive for every sermon to be a complete unit and provide a clear path to faith in Jesus, no sermon can disclose everything to be taught or known about Jesus. Good sermons clearly explain a single text or topic.
Patience is the virtue that allows us to be complete and through for this day and this context while understanding that there will (probably) be a next week. Essay questions require patience and broad understanding. When answering an essay question on a test the examinee wants to frame the answer so that the instructor knows that you understand—not that you are merely regurgitating a pat answer. Student’s love true/false or multiple-choice tests because you can pass them and not understand the material. You may actually know the answers and not know what they mean.
Essay questions provide no place to hide. You must be clear and thorough. You must anticipate—from an array of facts, interpretation, background information, and assigned reading what the instructor wants. Good teachers frame questions in such a way that student answers reveal their engagement with the subject rather than merely trolling for the right answer.
Preacher, you want to prepare and preach like this is your last sermon—praying and preparing for the next one, and recognizing that by God’s grace, when you are gone someone else will be taking the baton and carrying on. Good preaching, like answering essay questions is patient.
I spent a lot of time on this last week so I will merely mention this step and not drag it around too much. Essay questions, by their nature, require complete thoughts, summarizing, and necessary repetition. “Correct” answers to a classes essay questions will be more similar than dissimilar, that difference being primarily due to the individuality of the students.
While preaching needs to be creative, we should also acknowledge that it requires a healthy dose of repetition. There are only so many ways to discuss the sovereignty of God or what the Bible says about baptism. Beyond that if you set down deep roots and engage in a thorough preaching ministry you will come back to the same topics and texts repeatedly. The creative side of the coin, as I said last week, is to repeat yourself without being repetitive or redundant.
Good preaching teaches. Essay questions, when answered properly should reflect what the student has learned and demonstrate extensibility. That is to say the student should feel confident in her answer not just for those downstream (future students or congregants) but also upstream. The professor may not learn anything new, but a good essay answer shows that the message has been received.
Essay questions reveal the educational thrust of teaching (and to follow our analogy, preaching) because you cannot guess. You either know or don’t. How many preachers on a typical Sunday would willingly ask essay questions of the congregation to find out whether the people who heard him really understood what was said?
If your preaching never rises above propaganda, bluster, or soundbites you are failing your people and minimizing your call. Preacher’s teach scripture. Flocks need fed a real diet, not a few flecks of overly sweetened junk food tropes that leave them undernourished and ill-prepared for the rigors of the Christian life. If you preach regularly and no one learns anything it is time to recalibrate.
We preach at least fifty sermons a year (vacation?). In addition to other opportunities to preach and teach we write and speak a lot of words over the course of a year. Those words can either be scattered randomly at several targets, arise from the next topic that crosses our minds, be in reaction to external stimuli, or be planned in advance. When we (as by now you perhaps know I recommend) follow the latter course that allows us to be aggregative in our approach. Rather than unrelated sermons or lessons we can conceive of each individual lesson or sermon as a small part of the whole, bringing greater value to the whole
To make our preaching aggregative requires some planning in advance. When one studies for an examination or test a student rightly assumes that there is a broader goal presumed within that test. Generally, a syllabus describes the learning goals of a course and proscribes the general direction things will go. While Simple, fact-based tests measure a student’s retention of the facts, essay examinations allow the instructor to discern whether the student is aggregating information into a full learning experience. Is the student able to aggregate the parts, facts, and data into a complete structure or does she simply have a nice bag of parts when the experience is finished? One is merely a form of collection. The other real learning.
Closely aligned with aggregating our materials into a complete package is understanding the cumulative impact of that aggregated material. Understanding that “these people will be back next Sunday” relieves us of the burden of cramming too much in a message for us to comfortably preach it or the congregation to hear it.
Embracing the cumulative nature of good preaching allows us to trace an arc through not just this week’s text but the whole book from which we are preaching aiming not merely for weekly impact but for longer, ongoing…cumulative change.
This whole process sees preaching as the beating heart of the process of discipleship. Rather than atomizing a congregation into the smallest possible group, the whole congregation, viewed as disciples or flock is growing together into the maturing body of Christ. This is not only holistic it is healthy.
A teacher who only seeks to reach the A students, or who makes it his mission to only elevate the F students, has largely missed the point of education as a collective enterprise. The point is not to notice the stars but to increase the understanding for everyone.
Likewise, holistic preaching seeks to treat separate sermons as contributing to the whole enterprise of maturing the Church. As individual disciples become more mature the whole body is strengthened. Not merely for the sake of the individual but for the sake of the entire local Body of Christ.
It is the last week of January. A snowy, cold, exhausting week. I sketched January’s essays the week before Christmas. In that time, one year has ended, a new year begun and now grows to maturity. Many of us had to cancel worship gatherings last Sunday due to snow and cold. Winter is here for a while longer but soon the whistle pigs will speak, and we will have some idea of how long.
The title of January 2026’s final essay lays it all out. We aim for clarity in writing, thinking, and preaching. This clarity is a function of our cumulative lifetime of study plus our current weekly study. The dangers of maturity are different than those of youth, but of the same general character we have discussed throughout the month. Our personal system of language, choice of vocabulary, and propensity to clutter changes throughout our ministry but it is there in one form or another.
This week I close January with some exercises and goals that will hopefully encourage us all to work our language muscles. How we write and speak can be changed. We can improve. If we are approaching the tasks and opportunities of ministry appropriately, we will always be looking to grow and improve in every area of our work. We will need occasional reminders of specific actions we can take as well as goals we can aspire to that will improve our work. Not because we are being graded but because we stand in God’s stead to bear witness to the risen Christ and His saving grace.
Here are a few appropriate approaches to help each of us move towards engagement, effectiveness, and occasional eloquence—not for our own sake but for the sake of the evangel we bring.
Repeating what we say is essential for driving home our point and helping our congregation retain what we say. Repetition done poorly can lead to boredom and alienation. People are not stupid. They know when they are being patronized and talked down to. It is essential for us to learn to repeat our message using different words, phrases, and textures.
Hence, we return to the bigger picture of language, words, structure, and clutter. Looking up words to avoid repetition should not be an exercise that devolves into obscurantism. You’re not trying to be elusive, clever, or mysterious. Your goal is variety. You must make a practice of finding multiple ways to say the same thing, rephrasing and reformatting as well as choosing different terms.
There are times you want to be transparently obvious. There will be other times that you want to be stealthy and unpredictable. By the time you complete the sermon you want to have made the point, restated it reaffirmed it, and clarified it without your congregation feeling like you’ve simply said the same thing over and over again.
We want people to understand, and we need to convey to them the fruit of our study. We have been trained and equipped to study scripture in ways that most members of our churches have not been. This is the opportunity for great reward, yet it also comes with great risk. We want people to “get it” without feeling like we’ve talked down to them.
We need to balance the content of our message with the connection of our message. This is particularly important when our studies have been personally engaging and fruitful. It is better for people to think that we are asking them to join us on our journey of discovery than merely showing them a photo-collage after the fact, insinuating that they missed something big and will just never understand this passage of scripture the way we do.
That kind of condescension was wholly absent from Jesus, creator of the universe, inventor of language, provider of scripture. We need to learn how to lead people to the water and give them a refreshing drink—not plunge their head into the trough practically drowning them in the overwhelming “truthiness” of what we say.
Those clutter reducing tools we discussed last week provide checks and balances on comprehension. Aim for compassionate understanding, Aim for comprehension that is based on a mutual search for the truth—with you leading the expedition into the text.
It is essential for an aspiring chef to learn how to move a meal from the hot stove where it is prepared to the comfortable table where it is served. Similarly, we don’t want to give our congregation the impression that we are all standing around the stove and you are forcing hot food into their unprepared mouths. The best gourmet meal approached in such a manner would be unappetizing. And sermons preached in haste that come out of the kitchen hot, without any thought as to how you will present the message will fall flat and tasteless regardless of the amount of toil you have expended.
Proper presentation that is pleasing to the ear and eye is the result of an exacting, measured, thoughtful, and consistent editing process. When you are preparing rough outlines and first drafts the goal is to get the thoughts onto paper (or into electrons) as quickly as possible, striking the iron when the creative heat is at its height and the metal is malleable. Those first instincts, those initial impressions, those sparks of inspiration--are for you. They are not and should not be intended for public consumption. You are gathering the ingredients, sifting and preparing, measuring and mixing. You are not ready to present your results until you have been over the ground several times revising, reducing, extending, adding, cutting, trimming, re-mixing, and finalizing the work through several purposeful drafts. And here’s where we must be careful. The more clever, well-spoken, well read, and experienced you are the greater your deliberation must be. There will be times you must excise things that seem eloquent and replace them with words that are less elegant but better suited to congregation and context. Your goal, my goal, our goal is not to be eloquent but to be understood.
On January 1 I offered an essay that described our year as a fresh sheet of paper. Sermons have been preached, lessons taught, studies led. Is your language more clear? Are your words more deliberate? Are your sermons better organized? The year is still young. We all have the chance to follow some basic habits of intentional communication that will enable us to do an increasingly better job of saying what we intend to say every time we open our mouths.
We don’t want to just be heard. We want to be understood. We want people to understand so that they can grow appropriately in their walk with Christ. We want the Word of God—as active and powerful as we know it to be, to be unencumbered by our choice of words, or obscured by clutter. Language matters. The very reality of language and thought itself—the Word—became flesh to “exegete God to us.” In your place, in your pulpit you represent Jesus, the incarnate Word. Let’s take seriously this high calling to which we have responded.
I want to begin with an analogy. Unfortunately, I cannot provide an accurate citation for this information. I think it comes from James McPherson’s magistral Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, which is I believe the best single-volume history of the Civil War to be found. Be that as it may, consider the following factoid. By late 1863 or early 1864 the United States could have provided every soldier in her field armies with some form of a repeating rifle. Whether a Henry model or Spencer model in either long-rifle or carbine, the Union had the industrial capacity to produce enough of these new firearms to all but end the war with superior firepower. Except there were other intervening issues. While the Union could have produced the rifles it could not have provided the logistic infrastructure necessary to keep each of those soldiers adequately supplied with ammunition.
The logistics of the time—water, rail, or wagon was adequate to the level of firepower produced by Union armies, provided that virtually every private soldier fired no more than three rounds a minute. Double or even triple that rate of fire and the armies would run out of ammunition—possibly while battles were still being fought. So, the average soldier still carried his Springfield rifled musket, secure in the knowledge that he would generally (other than in specific battle situations) not run out of ammunition.
As armies adapted first repeating rifles, then semi-automatic, and eventually select-fire automatic rifles one of the defining characteristics of basic rifleman and marksmanship training was fire-discipline. The individual solider needed to be able to hit a target with a single aimed shot. That achieved the needed outcome and preserved ammunition. There would be times to use short bursts or even fully automatic fire. The trade-off —the soldier might run out of ammunition before he ran out of targets.
This moth we are talking about our use of the language arts to communicate God’s Word. Last week we talked about language as a general system of communication. This week we are focusing on a much smaller component of that system. The ammunition, if you will, of all our communication acts. The very words we choose and use to get attention, make an argument, drive home a point, or flesh out a truth. Like a soldier and his most basic weapons preachers must learn fire discipline in using this precious ammunition.
More words do not substitute for the right word. There are many ways to choose proper vocabulary. It begins with a lot of reading. Different authors bring different perspectives to their craft. You will learn structure from some writers. Some will teach you about style. Still others will help you to summarize lots of information. Other writers provide instruction in word choice.
Reading the work of a wide variety of authors will give you a breadth of training in the accumulation and deployment of vocabulary. Last week I said something about the limitation of “professional” reading or “domain knowledge”, recommending genre’s which do not seem to specifically relate to preaching and teaching. Let me expand on that thought just a bit. Most Pastor-Theologians—at least those of us who benefitted from a traditional theological education have a “professional patois”. Which is a fancy way of saying that we often sound the same. Many books read the same, not because the author isn’t clever but because she has become desensitized to the commonality of her vocabulary to that of her professional peers.
The best writers to read—the most enjoyable are those who take a familiar topic and reframe or refocus it by a broader vocabulary. Not by swarming the task with more of the same words but by using good fire-disciple to choose the right word, write the right word and then stop.
Because our primary task is constructing and preaching sermons, our inventory of “ammunition”, our vocabulary must be tuned to the ear more than the eye. We must learn to accumulate, store, and deploy punchy verbs and accurate nouns. We don’t want to be vague in the pulpit—this leads to misunderstanding. Consequently, in addition to good discipline, we want to work with a proper inventory.
A little confession. Even when young, I read a lot. And though I knew at a very young age I wanted to be a preacher, I crated up a lot of linguistic ammunition unsuited for the task. On entering college, I thought that any situation calling for 3 simple words would be improved by deploying 12 complicated words. I was wrong.
What I needed to learn—and hopefully have after 45 years is that the words on the page are a first step—a necessary step towards a public declaration. I learned many years ago that the Dictionary, Thesaurus, and other basic language tools are my friend. And much of the time I turn to the dictionary not because I lack a word, but because the one I do know is too complex and unsuited to the context of preaching. Let me be clear--I look up words I know to find simpler terms for what I already intend to say.
You’ll want to read old things and contemporary things. You’ll want to recycle and upgrade your inventory of words throughout your ministry. If you are in the same place for many years, you will find that the slang and jargon of a decade or more becomes the boring commonplaces of we old folk and that the kids are trotting out new words all the time—some suitable others unsuitable. Broad reading and a wide conversational environment will help us to turn our inventory, to make sure that the words we use—our ammunition—to continue with our analogy—is always fresh. Let me end this section with a quotation from scripture:
“When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.” (Proverbs 10:19 ESV)
If you are going to use fewer words, make sure they are the right ones. Choose words that are contextually fitting and appropriate. To sum up this section let me quote Mark Twain. First the more famous quote:
“The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” ― Mark Twain, The Wit and Wisdom of Mark Twain: A Book of Quotations
That is an obvious quote considering our subject. It is advice which is too often ignored. A second quotation is a list excerpted from Twain’s hilarious essay Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offenses. You would do well to read this essay (and as much Twain as possible) on a regular basis. I like this little slice because it drives home the essential point of about word choice.
In addition to these large rules there are some little ones. These require that the author shall:
These two gems say the same thing. Accuracy in word choice is the whole ball game, quality over quantity if you will.
The risk we face is less running out of words, than choosing and using inappropriate or insufficient words. We labor over what we write, we wrestle over how we will speak because we understand that these words matter. The most efficient way to stockpile words is to be a voracious, curious reader. Broad reading of numerous genres with an easily accessible and promiscuously used dictionary and thesaurus helps you to not only find the terminological information you need but to truly make it your own by incorporating it in formal and informal discourse. Let me rewrite that last sentence to reflect the point of this essay. Read a lot, look things up so that you can choose the simplest, most familiar term that will say what you intend to say. Same content. Different execution. And it raises a final, important point.
This entire conversation assumes that you know what you intend to say. This is all second and third draft work. It comes after the study, after understanding the text. The preliminary work is done and now you are structuring, outlining, phrasing, sequencing, working out transitions. After you get that first draft finished then it is time to read it aloud or have your computer do it for you. They you start editing, cutting, emending, adding, cutting, and expanding your message into the right thing said at precisely the right time.