The Spiritual Discipline of Writing Sermons

Here is the last of the series of articles that was published recently in the MSA Seed Sampler.  You might also like to check out this article by Ann Voskamp on Journalling as a Spiritual Discipline

The following post is written by Mary Naegeli who has been ordained for 22 years and is a minister-member of the San Francisco Presbytery.  She is currently taking an academic break from weekly preaching to teach courses in Christian formation and discipleship, preaching, and missional leadership at various campuses of Fuller Seminary. She is also working on her Doctor of Ministry degree and hopes to be finished in late 2010.

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Many years ago, our pastor was asked, “Why do you spend 20 hours per week preparing your sermon, when you should be relying on the inspiration of the Holy Spirit on Sunday morning to preach God’s Word?” The implication was that exerting the effort to research, study, and write during the week somehow hindered the work of the Spirit while in the pulpit. Our pastor replied with remarkable patience and good will, “Well, the way I see it, by giving 20 hours each week to sermon preparation, I am actually exposing myself to 20 hours of the Spirit’s inspiration rather than just 20 minutes.”

The spiritual discipline of sermon-writing involves daily spiritual exercises that get and keep a preacher in shape for that 20 minutes of heavy lifting on Sunday morning. It helps the sermon writer adopt new habits, skills, spiritual strength, and the mental tenacity required for the task to become second nature. The spiritual discipline of sermon-writing relies on other disciplines to feed into it as streams merge to create a river. Sermon preparation is a composite of silence, solitude, Bible study, meditation, prayer, journaling, worship, and practicing the presence of God.

Spiritual disciplines in general establish a living dynamic in which a person cultivates a relationship with God and receives the power to do the work God has assigned for the sake of others. Our purpose for being is not only to enjoy relationship with our Creator, but to act as God’s agent in the world and reflect his glory in ministry to others. Some pastors believe that sermon-writing takes them away from spiritual disciplines or that Bible study that is useful for preaching doesn’t “count” as “spiritual reading.” It is certainly possible to beat the spiritual value out of the sermon-writing process, but if one enters into the weekly preaching cycle to receive something personally transforming and helpful to others from God, then spiritual growth and strengthening is inevitable. One need not apologize for “using” Bible study and meditation to feed a sermon: “All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2Tim. 3:16). What is important, however, is our willingness to let that Scripture speak to us, correct us, shape our lives, and put us on the straight path. If we are not open to this life-changing dynamic, then whatever exposition comes out of the Bible study effort will be empty. Effective preaching on a passage or a topic does not require us to demonstrate personal perfection, but does rest on the spirit of repentance and openness of an in-process preacher.

As an example of this, several years ago during Lent, I preached each week on one of the “seven deadly sins”: pride, anger, gluttony, lust, greed, jealousy, and sloth. In speechless silence during my preparation for the sermon on gluttony, I realized that this topic was a sore spot for me. I asked God, “The sermon is this Sunday. How am I supposed to preach on gluttony if it’s something I’m so guilty of”? Through prayer, He led me first to confess and repent, make a commitment to practice new habits, and then out of that humility to preach honestly that this sermon was as much for me as for my parishioners. They were welcome to listen in while I recounted out loud what God’s grace could accomplish in my life in this area. You could hear a pin drop in the sanctuary, because what God was working in me was flowing out in power to the congregation.

I followed the same preaching rhythm for years, and I recommend experimenting with it. The first step, of course, was to plan ahead, and for the sake of my worship staff, I usually had sermon Scriptures and topics lined up at least four months in advance. I would take an occasional one or two days for silent retreat to read, ponder, and inquire of the Lord regarding possible subject matter. Once the preaching series was established and communicated to my staff, I would implement this weekly routine:

Like many pastors, I did not go into my church office on Mondays, but it was not a day off. In fact, I began the new sermon cycle on Monday mornings in silence and solitude, spending perhaps half a day exegeting the Scripture passage for the following Sunday, employing every tool available to understand the text as originally intended and heard. My work on this day was done when I felt I had mined the Scripture’s key points that could be carried forward to 21st-century application.

On Tuesday, I would share briefly with my staff the basic point of the passage as a way of practicing the link between it and our contemporary setting. Later in the day I would meet with the minister of music and worship, who would have designed a worship plan that would bring it to life. Our interaction was part of the discipline of accountability.

On Wednesdays and Thursdays, days heavy with meetings and counseling, I had the habit of sharing one or more sermon points whenever appropriate. The informal feedback helped me to understand and appreciate the worldview and aspirations of church members. I discovered where my logic was flawed, or a choice of words was obscure or incomprehensible. Also during these two days, I was consciously on a God-Hunt, looking for analogies, illustrations, stories, or God’s interventions that would bring this Word to life. This discipline of alertness, or listening to God, helped reinforce the conviction that the upcoming sermon would be God’s Word to us, not my word to my congregation.

Friday was spent at home again, crafting the text of the sermon itself. I usually spoke from an outline, which allowed me more time to prepare the preacher and less time focused on a paper. The writing discipline itself is more “work,” but not burdensome if preceded by private worship, a long walk, and an out-loud declamation of the Scripture text. When I got stuck, I would go out into the garden for ten minutes of weed-pulling, fruit-picking, or watering. Good ideas greet me under those conditions.

Saturday was reserved only for sermon-delivery practice, but otherwise, the day was a non-work day.

This weekly cycle fed me spiritually, allowed the development of godly habits of study and meditation, thinking and writing, attentiveness to God and others, and perseverance. However, my limit was preaching eight weeks in a row, and then someone else would be scheduled to preach simply to give me a Sabbath rest. This pattern was sustainable for years, because the discipline of sermon-writing became a key ingredient in my faith as a way of life.

Surprised By Community: the Spirituality of Blogging

Here is the second of the articles that appeared in the recent MSA Seed Sampler that I wanted to highlight in the series What is a Spiritual Practice. This article is by Tim Mathis who lives in Seattle with his wife Angel.  He currently aspires to be an Episcopal priest, writer and member of the Anglican Order of St Stephen.  He shares the blog Relatively Faithful with his brother Shayne.

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For someone writing about using technology as the practice of a spiritual discipline, I’m quite the Luddite. I hate cell phones, I don’t Twitter, and I’m usually one of the last of my friends to pick up new gadgets and programs. Predictably, I didn’t get into blogs before I started writing one. I thought they were for people that wanted to air their crackpot ideas without going to the trouble of finding someone to validate them with publication. Then I started airing my own crackpot ideas online and haven’t been able to stop. Now, three years, three blogs, and five hundred posts later, I’m hooked on the medium and write regularly with a feeling of responsibility, accountability, and gratitude for a little community of readers scattered around the world. In the process I’ve been surprised to discover that blogging is good for the soul.

I started blogging because, at the beginning of my discernment process for ordination in the Episcopal Church, I was required to type out the story of my religious life to introduce myself to the Rev. Dr. Ann Holmes Redding, the priest who would help me determine whether or not I have a priestly calling. Having just completed my Masters thesis, I’d had enough of writing major documents that only one person would read, so I decided to post my autobiography online in installments for the world to see—or at least the world that had access to my MySpace page. I was humbled and surprised by the fact that twenty to thirty friends read every post.

Since then, this growing online community has shaped me in important ways across the last few years. The process of deciding who you are and what you’ll be is at one level about self-examination; you spend time in reflection individually sorting out the battles you want to fight, and the places where you want to devote your energy. But more importantly, our lives are formed in community when people encourage us to either forge ahead or shift directions. Blogging offers something distinctive; it really is done in an open community.

In my own process of discernment for the priesthood, face-to-face interactions with friends and mentors from the Episcopal world have been essential, but my blog readers have been instrumental at key points. After spending several months in 2008 feeling seriously conflicted about whether to continue towards the priesthood, I explicitly laid down my most troubling questions for my readers, asking them to tell me what they thought. Ultimately, their responses gave me clarity and confidence in continuing on towards ordination, and helped me to determine specifically the type of priest I am going to be—one that thinks, writes, tells the truth, doesn’t take himself too seriously, and does his best work online. Later, in reflecting on this experience in particular when I was dabbling with monastic spirituality, I wrote a personal Rule of Life and included a commitment to blogging as a form of communal prayer.

Every priestly personality wants to help others progress intellectually and spiritually, and to that end I’ve been intentional in writing about my religious experience as honestly and as articulately as possible. My spiritual story across the last several years has been wrapped up in the process through which I have left behind a religious tradition, and hence a community of people, and writing about that has sometimes meant critiquing ideas held by people who I really love. I know that in writing candidly I’ve hurt the feelings of friends and family, or lowered their estimation of me. But the greatest fulfillment I’ve felt as a blogger came when an old friend (who I haven’t seen in years) sent me a long message thanking me for the honesty with which I’ve talked about my experience and told me that it has helped him to deal with some of his own religious questions.

It is true that open community has its drawbacks—anonymous strangers can log on, call you a heretical, idiotic jerk for presenting your heartfelt beliefs, make you angry for the rest of the day, and then never return. That sucks, even if there is some kind of “iron sharpening iron” process there. But thankfully, I’ve found that people don’t respond that way in most cases. Opening your story and your thoughts up for others more often leads to sincere conversations that result in growth, learning, and a sense of friendship—even on the internet. I didn’t cultivate online community intentionally, but interactions there have given me a sense of responsibility and appreciation for the people who read and comment on the silly things I write.

There’s no getting around the fact that blogging is dorky. The term itself sounds like a child’s insult or something, and all of us bloggers are prone to being a little bit too earnest and taking our own ideas a little bit too seriously. Nonetheless, I’ve found that blogging has the potential to be a deeply spiritual practice, cultivating real friendship and providing opportunities for real personal growth. I’m sure that my ideas, religious and otherwise, are still crackpot, but I expect that they are a little bit less so as a result of my blogging community.

Twitter as a Spiritual Practice.

The July MSA Seed Sampler was published today.  Its topic is Writing as a Spiritual Practice and there are several articles that I wanted to share with you over the next few years as an introduction to the summer series What is a Spiritual Practice.

Gerard and Chrissie Kelly

The first article is by Gerard Kelly the founder of the Bless Network with his wife Chrissie who live in the Netherlands, where he is Senior Pastor of Crossroads Amsterdam, a church of 40 nationalities. Gerard is an incredible poet and has blogged some of his poems at Spoken Worship more recently he has shared some of his verses through twitter under the name twitturgies.  I have wanted to publish this article on my blog ever since Gerard sent it to me but knew that I needed to curb my impatience until it came out in the Seed Sampler.  I hope that you enjoy it as much as I did

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As reported in London’s Independent and around the world, Ireland’s top Catholic Cardinal Sean Bray has urged his flock to use Twitter as a means of prayer. In a speech in honour of the late Father Patrick Peyton, the Priest famous for coining the phrase “the family that prays together stays together,” Cardinal Bray insists that a new movement of prayer can arise using new technology and social networks.

Publicity-seeking hype, or a genuine call to prayer? Can social networks genuinely become part of spiritual discipline in the 21st Century?

My own experiment with prayer on Twitter would suggest that they well might. At the end of February this year, I was reflecting on what value Twitter might have in my own life. It was just days after the Amsterdam air incident, when a Turkish jet crash-landed in a field a few kilometers from my home. Many people from our church community were involved in the rescue efforts and in treating the victims as they were rushed to local hospitals. And many others were astounded by the speed at which Twitter users were able to inform others of the crash. This was a week in which Twitter, in more ways than one, got everybody talking. And it got me thinking. Two things happened to me as a result. The first was a prayer that rose in my heart: “This day, Lord, be born in me. This day teach. This day heal. This day win, in death, surprising prizes. This day rise, this day rise in me.”

The second was a word: Twitturgies. Why not use Twitter as a means of prayer, all the time accepting the constraints of communication in less than 140 characters? In essence I simply took the Twitter question “What are you doing?” and translated it as “What are you praying?” taking the prayers I was praying in any case and crafting them into personal liturgies.

Two hundred and twenty-four Twitturgies later, the result has been an unexpected change in my own life of prayer. Others have expressed appreciation for the prayers they have received on Twitter, but the real benefits have been in my own spirituality. By allowing my commitment to Twitturgies to force upon me the regular question, “What are you praying?” the practice of writing Twitturgies has blown a fresh breeze through my prayers.

There are three key ways in which this has really helped me: Firstly, it has empowered me to pray frequent, short prayers, peppering my day with snatched moments of prayer, rather than waiting for the rare occasions when I can spend focused hours praying. I still seek out those times when I can, but I am praying more overall by adding these shorter prayers. I don’t update Twitturgies at fixed times, but they are often early-morning or late-evening “tweets,” with whatever opportunities I can find in between to use my computer or phone to pray.

Secondly, the forced constraint of 140 characters brings incredible focus to my prayers. On many occasions I have been surprised by the clarity that emerges. Twitturgies are shared with others, so they have to be interesting, accessible, and easy to understand—criteria that should be perhaps applied to prayer more often. Twitter posts are the new Haiku, and as the Japanese have known for centuries, the constraints of form do not stifle creativity: they give it depth. The challenge of expressing heartfelt prayers in such short sentences has been a new discipline in itself.

Lastly, the practice has made me newly conscious of my own prayers and longings. My aim is that Twitturgies be authentic—that is, that they genuinely reflect something I am praying about. They are prayers, not poems as such. I have to ask myself, “What do I want to say to God right at this moment?” “What is on my heart today?” The questions become part of the discipline. The result of this is that I am both a reader and a writer of Twitturgies; the construction of these prayers speaks to my heart also. And because they are short and sharp, they capture very succinctly what is going on in my soul at a given moment. I archive all the prayers so they are also a kind of spiritual journal. I can look back over a day, or a series of days, and see a pattern in the prayers that have emerged. “Reading” this pattern against the events of that day or days helps me to reflect on my own spiritual journey more deeply.

Twitter has become, for me, a vital part of my prayer life. Because it is intended to be a mobile medium (I write as often from my phone as from my laptop), it is a go-anywhere prayerbook. I have prayed “twitturgically” in between appointments, walking home from the office, during a coffee break, in a worship service, and in the last moments before sleep. Perhaps Twitter can become a kind of technological breath-prayer, a “pray without ceasing” application for any of us.

Virtual Eucharist: Is this a Spiritual Practice?

In the light of my recent blog posts on what constitutes a spiritual practice I thought that I need to highlight this fascinating discussion currently going on across several blogs about whether or not we can legitimately celebrate the Eucharist on the internet.  Mark Brown CEO of the NZ Bible Society posted this article a few days ago featuring the Revd Professor Paul S. Fiddes, a Baptist minister and Professor of Systematic Theology at the University of Oxford and Director of Research, Regent’s Park College, who has just written a short paper arguing in favour of celebrating Eucharist in the virtual world.

Professor Fiddes summarises

An avatar can receive the bread and wine of the Eucharist within the logic of the virtual world and it will still be a means of grace, since God is present in a virtual world in a way that is suitable for its inhabitants. We may expect that the grace received by the avatar will be shared in some way by the person behind the avatar, because the person in our everyday world has a complex relationship with his or her persona.

I struggle with this view as does Bosco Peters host of the NZ blog Liturgy

Baptism, immersion into the Christian community, the body of Christ, and hence into the nature of God the Holy Trinity may have some internet equivalents – for example, being welcomed into a moderated group. But my own current position would be to shy away from, for example, having a virtual baptism of a second life avatar. Nor would I celebrate Eucharist and other sacraments in the virtual world. Sacraments are outward and visible signs – the virtual world is still very much at the inner and invisible level. Similarly, in my opinion, placing unconsecrated bread and wine before a computer or television screen and understanding this to result in consecration tends away from the liturgical understanding of the Eucharist (liturgy = work of the people/ something done by a community) towards a magical understanding of the Eucharist (magic = something done to or for an individual or community).

Though I love to encourage interactions around our faith on the internet I do believe there comes a point where faith itself loses its reality if that is the only place that we come together to worship and share the sacraments.

However even though I struggle with issues like this I realize too that some may equate this idea with my own suggestion that we need to connect to the gospel story as it is expressed in every part of life.  Is performing the eucharist online more than connecting to the story of God in our everyday activities?  What do you think?

A Breathing Prayer by AB Simpson

I have just been working on an article on Writing Breathing Prayers as a Spiritual Discipline for the upcoming MSA Seed Sampler – Writing as a Spiritual Discipline.  In the process I came across this beautiful breathing prayer that I wanted to share with you.  It is written by   A.B. Simpson, who was founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance:

“Breathing Out and Breathing In”

Jesus, Breathe Thy Spirit on me,

Teach me how to breathe Thee in,

Help me pour into Thy bosom

All my life of self and sin.

I am breathing out my own life,

That I may be filled with Thine;

Letting go my strength and weakness,

Breathing in Thy life divine.

Breathing out my sinful nature,

Thou hast borne it all for me;

Breathing in Thy cleansing fullness,

Finding all my life in Thee.

I am breathing out my sorrow,

On Thy kind and gentle breast;

Breathing in Thy joy and comfort,

Breathing in Thy peace and rest.

I am breathing out my longings,

In Thy list’ning loving ear,

I am breathing in Thy answers,

Stilling every doubt and fear.

I am breathing every moment,

Drawing all my life from Thee;

Breath by breath I live upon Thee,

Blessed Spirit, breathe in me.

Are You Suffering From Nature Deficit Disorder?

I am sitting at our dining room table working and looking out at the beauty of an early summer’s day in Seattle.  We are so blessed at the opportunities to enjoy the outdoors not not just in times of leisure but also in our work.

My focus for the morning has been looking at innovative new green technologies which in many ways is related to my enjoyment of the outdoors and the beauty of God’s world.  After all we will never be able to preserve this beauty unless we encourage conservation and sustainable lifestyles.  The most interesting that has caught my attention is a new clothes washer that uses virtually no water as well as less electricity.

My attention has also been caught by what a growing number are calling nature deficit disorder.  I don’t think that we realize the consequences to our health – both physical and spiritual of lives that are spent inside under artificial light.  Insomina, depression, and of course obesity are all linked to sedentary indoor lives.  Kids in particular suffer from nature deficit disorder and as I have mentioned in a previous post even attention deficit disorder can be alleviated by encouraging kids to spend more time outdoors.

But what can those who spend their work time inside do to alleviate this.  Here are some tips that I have garnered from friends

1. Always eat lunch outside in your closest green strip or go for a walk at lunch time even when it is raining.  You may not want to sit outside in inclement weather but even ten minutes spent outside in all weather can greatly improve our health.
2. Get a plant or a small fish tank for your workspace or home.  You may even like to volunteer to look after plants in other parts of the office.  Certain kinds of indoor plants improve air quality dramatically.  Top of the list are philodendrons, English Ivy and spider plants.
3. Start a garden on your balcony, in your backyard or even in the parking strip.  This will force you to get outside at least once a day if for no other reason than to see how things are growing.  If you have kids make sure they have their own little garden – wither a container or a section of your backyard and let them choose at least one new plant to grow in your garden as well each year.
4. Get a pet.  To be honest before we acquired Bonnie, our golden retriever, tom and I were not good at walking regularly but now we walk around Greenlake (a 3 mile trek) at least 3 times a week.
5. Walk, run or cycle to work at least once a week.
6. Plan at least one outdoor activity on your day off – preferably something a little more strenuous than sitting in the stadium watching the local ball game.
7. Take your kids on an overnight camping trip or plan some summer hikes.  This is a great way not only to introduce kids to the outdoors but also to give them experiences that will connect them to God’s world in ways that other wise would not experience.
8. Go for a prayer walk around your neighbourhood or city once a week.
9. Volunteer at your local community garden or get your family or community to adopt a street and go out to pick up trash once a week.
10. Visit the local zoo regularly – this is not just for kids.  The last time I went to the zoo with an overseas friend was a fun and stimulating experience.

What are your suggestions?  How can we both encourage more sustainable green living habits and help all of us who live in cities overcome our nature deficit disorder?

Feeling Close to God in the Graveyard

Just after I posted my last blog post I came across this very moving article by Christopher Heuertz, director of Word Made Flesh.  Visiting the graveyard is obviously a spiritual practice that has a great deal of significance and provides a deep encounter with God for Chris.

One of the places where I often feel closest to God is in the children’s section of a graveyard in South India. We have buried ten of our friends there, all but one of them little girls, and each of them dear members of our family. They were victims of hunger, AIDS, female infanticide, or rejected because of their gender. read the entire article

The Death of Idols

Yesterday two well known Hollywood celebrities died.  In the morning we heard about the death of Farrah Fawcett most famous for her role in the original Charlie’s Angels series.  She died at 62 after a long struggle with cancer.  Then in the afternoon many were shocked by the sudden death of Michael Jackson touted around the world as The King of Pop.

Jackson’s death brought a tragic end to a long, bizarre, sometimes farcical decline from his peak in the 1980s, when he was popular music’s premier all-around performer, a uniter of black and white music who shattered the race barrier on MTV, dominated the charts and dazzled even more on stage.  Read the entire report

The internet was buzzing with rumours long before the death was officially announced.

My question is: Why do these deaths affect so many so much.  Especially for those of us who are Christians I often wonder why the lives and deaths of people who obviously led lives counter to what we consider good Christian behaviour, and these are people that we don’t even know.  Perhaps we live more in the world than we care to admit.

In spite of that I think that it is good for us to pray at times such as these.  Maybe these deaths remind us that in the midst of life there is always death and that it it is time to pray for all who have died this week: those who died of AIDS and malaria, those who died as a result of war and conflict, those who died of malnutrition and starvation, those who died from chronic illness, those who died in accidents.  Particularly may we remember all those who died this week unnoticed and uncared for, those who died alone, those who were tortured and abused, and those who died from random shootings and violence.

Into the darkness of death

We lay them down

Into the sadness and smiles of our memories

We lay them down

Into the cycle of living and dying and rising again

We lay them down

May they rest in peace, in fulfillment, in loving

May they run home into God’s embrace

Everything is Spiritual – Rob Bell

In keeping with the current theme on this blog I thought that you would appreciate this video by Rob Bell

Crying as a Spiritual Practice

It looks as though the summer blog series and learning party on What is a Spiritual Practice is off to a good start.  I am certainly looking forward to all that we can learn together about how God speaks to us and how everyday experiences can deepen our relationship to God.

As well as the posts and comments already on this blog which I have listed at the end of this post, Beth Stedman posted this great reflection on Crying as a Spiritual Practice.  I found it very thought provoking and intriguing and will definitely be meditating on her thoughts throughout the day.

For me crying is a spiritual practice, a spiritual experience that changes me and takes me closer to the heart of my Father. Allow me to explain and expand a little… To start with, understand that I’m not really the type who cries at the drop of a hat. You have to be a pretty close friend to have seen me cry as I usually only cry around people I feel really comfortable with. But, I do cry fairly regularly and when I cry I really cry. It usually starts with some little trigger and then grows until I’m crying about everything that I possibly could cry about.

But, there’s something that almost always happens at some point during my crying which I’m not sure is normal or not, maybe it shows my own weakness of faith, but almost always at some point my crying escalates and get’s turned on God. Suddenly it isn’t just about whatever it is I’m crying about, suddenly it’s about me and God and all my insecurities in my relationship with God.  Read the entire blog post

I am still enlisting aid from friends and colleagues in this but already have a great line up for the next few weeks of bloggers from all over the world so I expect that we will get to hear some diverse and possibly challenging perspectives.   As well as that the upcoming MSA Seed Sampler which will be published next week is on Writing as a Spiritual Discipline.  It will include some interesting articles on blogging, twittering, journalling and writing prayers as spiritual disciplines.

If you would like to contribute a reflection or if there is an activity that you perform regularly that you would like to hear others comment on as a spiritual practice please let me know.

Check out reflections already on this blog:

Breathing as Spiritual Practice

Taking a Shower as Spiritual Practice

What is a Spiritual Practice

Reimagining our Spiritual Practices

Gardening with God