Bleu del Moncenisio, or Just Stinky Cheese?

Exploring the Fine Lines of Making Sermons Memorable

In the course of my higher education, I have only bumbled through two biblical survey classes, which were at best a broad overview. My understaning of scripture largely derives from late night wrestling sessions with brief passages.

Recently, I have been hungry for the words of Jesus Christ, aiming to allow His teachings to infiltrate my heart without letting my preconceived musings about Christianity pollute their ability to form my life. Though I could never claim to be a theologan or even a scholar, I have been gathering an undeniable truth from reading His sermons and parables night after night:

The words of Jesus Christ are memorable.

Well of course, you say (and rightfully so)… After all, the passages we have are the centuries-old, unchanged accounts that have spoken to the very roots of our family trees. I certainly am not trying to break ground by saying so, but we do have to acknowledge that the words of Christ are at once relevant and timeless, simple and profound, pervasive and direct.

As pastors, you toil relentlessly in the word, crafting several minutes worth of oration week upon week. Undoubtedly the goals of Christ’s communication become the paradigm of your constructions, and your backspace button gets as much exercise as any of the other keys as you commit yourself to a masterpiece of oration that will stand indelible and strong in the minds of your parishoners.

Why then do most, if not all, congregants forget what you said as soon as the yeast rolls pop out of the oven to make their appearance at the Sunday dinner table?

It is upon me to note that I am a classic example of the average sermon consumer. My deficit of attentiveness combines with the hyper-stimulation of movies, ipods, and digitized radio that pop culture so readily offers, and I regularly become the quintissential thorn in the side of my pastors – checking out the bulletin announcements, musing about nearby lunch options, and even occasionally nodding off. If I were a pastor, I wouldn’t be able to stand people like me!

Each week, I work to wrap aesthetic shemes around pastors’ sermon series ideas, creating visual touchstones that are wallpapered onto screen presentations, bulletin covers, posters, banners, and even temporary tattoos. (Okay, I have never actually produced a sermon logo that was henna dyed onto anyones forearm.) Sometimes these promo pieces become banners on the web, paid ads on search engines, and blocks in the local newsprint. The promotions serve their purpose, and the parking lot begins to fill in time for the 10:30 a.m. service.

So let’s say that you are facing a pew-ful of 500 or so. You are confident that you hold the reference to the bible passage the Lord wants you to communicate, and you can feel the passion of the Holy Spirit begin to pulse in your veins as you prepare to be the voice through which the Lord communicates.

Problem – Already, Irma Gladys is fiddling with her Tic-Tacs, Big Joe is eying the fresh supply of female visitors, and Susie-Q has commenced with her tradition of penciling gossip for her friends to read onto the stock of tithe envelopes. What do you do?

You might have tried raising your voice and other scare tactics. Maybe you like to form your points into clever acrostics that spell S.A.L.V.A.T.I.O.N., or E.S.C.H.A.T.O.L.O.G.Y. Perhaps you are into one-word sermon titles that evoke adrenalized images like ‘DRIVE’, or ‘IGNITE.’ Maybe all six of your bullets start with the letter ‘F’.

I have heard all such sermons, and I must confess that clever linguistic hooks, video clips, and yes, finely crafed graphics packages do occasionally help to gel the points into cohesion. Just as often though, these schemes can present themselves as stale substitutes for impactful, relevant truth that does indeed penetrate the heart.

Some look at a wheel of the finest bleu cheese and see a decadent, creamy experience offering sharp bite and brightly colored smoky, salty notes. Others see mold and stench. If you are a precher that favors weekly acrostics to get the point across, imagine that you cease this practice for whatever reason. Half of your congregants will hail you as innovative and daring, while the other half will bellyache about the loss of this memory aid. What is a pastor to do?

If bleu cheese is delight to one and disgust to another, I think it is safe to make the assumption that most creations of man will exist in this realm: embraced by some and disregarded by others. Maybe the key to crafting memorable sermons is to look to the one whose teachings can not in any way be labeled as human invention.

Jesus Christ is always concise, direct, illustrative, and is willing to say the hard things, even when the things needed to be said cause some to be offended. As you faithfully work to craft sermons that are true to the word of God and relevant to a complex contemporary culture, remember that Christ departed from conventions and expectations.

If your flock is settling in for a twenty minute discourse centered on words that rhyme with ‘HOLY’, you may want to consider telling a short story (parable), giving a few sentences of explanation, and sending the listeners into small discussion groups armed with application questions. Only one teacher who roamed the earth was fully God. As you add creative graphic solutions, language constructions, and poetic cleverness to your lesons, don’t rely on them. Be sure there is clearly room for Jesus Christ to dictate your style and approach, and your offering of truth will be far more memorable.