Back in the day I would complain "if I hear one more book report sermon, I will scream." One of the most common sermonic methods for Unitarian Universalist ministers was to read a book and then tell their congregation all about it on Sunday.
I think we still find inspiration for a sermon in the books that we read, but we have learned to relate the contents of the book to our lives, or some national happening. I know I will read John M. Barry, The Great Influenza: The Epic Story of the Greatest Plague in History before I attempt a little prophetic preaching about the impending pandemic of "bird flu." One can read books, just don't do a book report.
But apparently there is a new cliche genre of Unitarian Universalist sermons.
Hafidha Sofîa writes: "I personally don't need to hear another Readers Digest sermon about appreciating the flowers in my garden. I want to hear from people who know and from people who believe. Even if I disagree with them, I will know more about myself after an hour with them, than a whole month of essays about 'celebrating spontaneity."
I have been trying to think about the "flowers in my garden" sermons I have heard. I know I have heard quite a few, but save for one, they all have slipped into the depths of subconsciousness where most sermons on normative virtues tend to go (including my own best efforts.) One of those garden spirituality sermons was very good, but it would be rejected by Readers Digest for creativity and depth. Alas, most were nice, set pieces on appreciation. Appreciation is virtue and must be taught, I assume, but to hear a sharing of convictions is memorable.
If Ralph Waldo Emerson were to come as a visitor, would he know I ever lived? Like most preachers, I think the honest answer is, it depends on what Sunday he came to visit.
Is it possible? Is it possible to preach one's convictions, and passions week after week? Not just when the spirit moves and inspiration happens. It would take a different kind of energy than a real good book report, or my current favorite, tell a provocative story, and talk about its meaning for today. That worked for me today. They loved it. It engaged them. But I don't think I revealed any depth of soul, they knew more about my message, but not more about my convictions.
Maybe someday, I'll send out the memo: Cancel the meetings, Cancel the memorial services. Got to do some pondering, wrestle with some big existential questions!
Meanwhile, I plan the November calendar. Hmmm. Stewardship. Pulpit Exchange. Thanksgiving. Global Warming.
Maybe in January.
I was thinking about book report sermons this morning as I was getting ready to preach. I have been urged to do these more and I refuse. Thinking about why so many do do this, I'm left thinking that it comes down to confidence in one's own sense of reflection and authority. It's a growing edge in my own internship. I don't do "book reports" and I often wonder if the product I'm producing comes from ego or from a place of deeper reflection. I come to realize more that it's from the latter place, but I think UU ministers specifically share a fear that if they can't cite a source to back up their thesis, they'll be perceived as egotists when they preach from a place of authroitative reflection. I think "book reports" come out of a fear of judgement, and a lack of trust in the deeper places from which our honest reflections come.
Hmmm....
Why would any one want a seminarian to preach more book report sermons? I guess it depends on who is doing the asking. Is it possible that some of our laity have come to think of us as the a Review of Books.
Reflect away, John. Then write a book. And cite it.
Although I didn't take his preaching class at HDS, Peter Gomes required his preaching students to first write an exegetical essay about the scripture passages that would be at the heart of the sermon, and only then to write the sermon itself. His goal was to insure that responsible scholarship was in the sermon's foundation rather than muddying up its delivery. Instead of the book report sermon, he encouraged his students to do the book report for themselves, then to turn their attention to the preaching.
I'd love to believe that most sermons are well-grounded in research, but I know they're not. I don't enjoy book-report sermons, and I never preach them, but I'd hate to see a reaction against them leading to a drift away from well-grounded background reading.
Not that I can imagine either of you ever preaching a poorly grounded sermon!
Those gardening sermons are what I like to call "Have You Ever Really Looked At Your Hand?" sermons. Courtesy of Adam Tierney-Eliot, when we were bemoaning the lack of good meditation manuals (what's "meditation" about the ones that are more like a series of newsletter columns? Are these our devotionals? Are they supposed to be? Another column, perhaps).