For Advent this year, a group of people from my church have been reading a book called "Christmas From the Backside" by J. Ellsworth Kalas. Kalas was my preaching professor in seminary...an extraordinarily gifted preacher and man of deep faith and passionate commitment to Christ.
We used to laugh in seminary, as he would critique our sermons. He would chose a part of your sermon and say something like, "I like what you did there, but you could also do something like this..." And off he would go, preaching a new sermon--a phoenix rising from the ashes of your old sermon. His impromptu sermons were some of the most beautiful I've ever heard, leaving us breathless and often in tears. It is rare that I have been in the presence of such greatness, but once you've experienced it, you never forget.
Kalas has a collection of books whose titles include the phrase "from the backside": parables from the backside, new testament stories from the backside, old testament stories from the backside, on and on, etc. He likes to take familiar stories and look at them from a new perspective (i.e. "the backside"). One thing I remember most from his class was a concept he often repeated. The idea was that we, as preachers, need to find something unique to say in each sermon. Not something no one in the history of the world had ever thought of before, it just had to be new to us...an "aha moment". That's probably not a bad principle for any public speaker...or really anyone who speaks, ever: Before you talk, make sure you have something to say! In a world of too many words, we were inspired to actually speak with meaning, hope, excitement...speaking as if God is really alive and active and doing someting in the world and in our lives. I try to do that in sermons, to feel like I have something--at least one thing--that needs to be said because of its depth and originality. Some Sundays are better than others, but that is the nature of life, I think!
In reading this book during Advent, there are several things Kalas has brought to light for me, making me think about the Christmas Story in a new way. In one chapter, he discusses the innkeeper (the one who had no room for Mary and Joseph in his establishment that first Christmas Eve). I really liked what Kalas had to say and appreciate what is has meant to me this season, as my heart prepares more room for Christ.
From Christmas From the Backside by J. Ellsworth Kalas (Abingdon Press: Nashville, 2003, pp. 42-43)
"I understand the innkeeper. I've learned that so many of us shut God out of our lives, not necessarily because we're hostile to him, but simply because we are 'filled up' with other things. Indeed, that's the tragedy of most of our lives, especially since so much of what fills our lives is trivia. So often persons who have passed through a crucial illness say that at the edge of death, they got a new understanding of what is worth living for. Everything seems to conspire to fill our days with life's transients--and then, when Eternity knocks at the door, seeking a place, we have to report that our rooms are full. You and I are often like the innkeeper: We shut Christ out, not because we hate Him, but because we are preoccupied. In fact, I ponder a quite uneasy thought. The innkeeper never knew, I'm quite sure, that he had just shut out the very Christ; he was simply filled up. And this is just the way some of us go through life--not knowing that Christ has sought admission. We get so occupied with other matters that we don't even recognize the divine inquiry.
And so Christmas comes even to those who aren't seeking it, who don't even particularly want it. It comes to hotels that are filled, to lives that are crowded, to people who are preoccupied. And always, it comes saying, 'I love you. May I come in?'...(several paragraphs omitted) and then, of course, the question comes, just as it did twenty centuries ago: Will we make room for Him?"
We used to laugh in seminary, as he would critique our sermons. He would chose a part of your sermon and say something like, "I like what you did there, but you could also do something like this..." And off he would go, preaching a new sermon--a phoenix rising from the ashes of your old sermon. His impromptu sermons were some of the most beautiful I've ever heard, leaving us breathless and often in tears. It is rare that I have been in the presence of such greatness, but once you've experienced it, you never forget.
Kalas has a collection of books whose titles include the phrase "from the backside": parables from the backside, new testament stories from the backside, old testament stories from the backside, on and on, etc. He likes to take familiar stories and look at them from a new perspective (i.e. "the backside"). One thing I remember most from his class was a concept he often repeated. The idea was that we, as preachers, need to find something unique to say in each sermon. Not something no one in the history of the world had ever thought of before, it just had to be new to us...an "aha moment". That's probably not a bad principle for any public speaker...or really anyone who speaks, ever: Before you talk, make sure you have something to say! In a world of too many words, we were inspired to actually speak with meaning, hope, excitement...speaking as if God is really alive and active and doing someting in the world and in our lives. I try to do that in sermons, to feel like I have something--at least one thing--that needs to be said because of its depth and originality. Some Sundays are better than others, but that is the nature of life, I think!
In reading this book during Advent, there are several things Kalas has brought to light for me, making me think about the Christmas Story in a new way. In one chapter, he discusses the innkeeper (the one who had no room for Mary and Joseph in his establishment that first Christmas Eve). I really liked what Kalas had to say and appreciate what is has meant to me this season, as my heart prepares more room for Christ.
From Christmas From the Backside by J. Ellsworth Kalas (Abingdon Press: Nashville, 2003, pp. 42-43)
"I understand the innkeeper. I've learned that so many of us shut God out of our lives, not necessarily because we're hostile to him, but simply because we are 'filled up' with other things. Indeed, that's the tragedy of most of our lives, especially since so much of what fills our lives is trivia. So often persons who have passed through a crucial illness say that at the edge of death, they got a new understanding of what is worth living for. Everything seems to conspire to fill our days with life's transients--and then, when Eternity knocks at the door, seeking a place, we have to report that our rooms are full. You and I are often like the innkeeper: We shut Christ out, not because we hate Him, but because we are preoccupied. In fact, I ponder a quite uneasy thought. The innkeeper never knew, I'm quite sure, that he had just shut out the very Christ; he was simply filled up. And this is just the way some of us go through life--not knowing that Christ has sought admission. We get so occupied with other matters that we don't even recognize the divine inquiry.
And so Christmas comes even to those who aren't seeking it, who don't even particularly want it. It comes to hotels that are filled, to lives that are crowded, to people who are preoccupied. And always, it comes saying, 'I love you. May I come in?'...(several paragraphs omitted) and then, of course, the question comes, just as it did twenty centuries ago: Will we make room for Him?"
No comments:
Post a Comment