Standing at the church door as the congregation leaves, the preacher shakes proffered hands, often hoping for some sign that the sermon just preached meant something to somebody. At last, a member of the congregation pauses, there’s an imperceptible intake of breath, and they say, ‘You kept it nice and short’. A little knot of disappointment forms in the preacher’s stomach. A couple of ‘lovely sermons’ later, and they don’t even hear the all-important ‘that really challenged me about…’. And when the feedback comes weeks later, it may not even be noticed.
No matter what the church’s doctrine of preaching might be, to stand in front of a congregation and speak directly to them is to be vulnerable. Preaching a sermon can feel like offering up the fruits of our labours for the judgement or approval of others. As I often say to those learning to preach, ‘if you’re not drained afterwards, you’re not doing it right’. Occupying a place of authority, however, the preacher does not appear vulnerable to the congregation as they speak. And so, even at the moment of the farewell handshake, congregation members expect the preacher to be strong. Usually, easily misinterpreted comments are meant well. It is vulnerability, not venom, that makes them hurt.
