By Robert P. Hoch | Assistant Professor of Homiletics and Worship, University of Dubuque Theological Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa
Robert Jacks’ Just Say the Word: Writing for the Ear helped generations of seminarians (including this one) become better communicators, using disciplines of writing in ways that complimented the oral/aural dynamics of preaching.1 In addition to making a case for a discipline of manuscript preaching, what I suggest below are basic strategies to improve our ability to communicate with a manuscript, maximizing its benefits and minimizing its weaknesses, so that the sermon manuscript contributes positively to the experience of hearing the Word.
It may be helpful to begin by listing some objections sometimes heard from people in the pew, often aimed at preachers who use a manuscript:
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• He’s a scholar, too deep for most of us. • We like the hymns, but the sermon ... hopefully it’ll be short!• She reads her sermon—we wish she would just talk to us. On the positive side, a more oral/aural sermon might generate these kinds of comments:
• I can’t believe you preach without notes! • I like the way you come out of the pulpit! • I didn’t get bored at all.Basically, these words of praise or complaint are flip-sides of the same feeling in the pew: the closest port of entry into our heart and mind is not a manuscript but the ear. Of course, the mind assesses what the ear hears, and of that fact we shouldn’t lose sight. But it is also important to recall that in the Judeo-Christian tradition of the preached Word, it is the ear that is held up above all else, as in the Jewish prayer, “
Hear O Israel, the Lord your God, the Lord is one!”
But one doesn’t necessarily need to be formed in the Christian tradition of preaching to appreciate the importance of how we experience the sermon. When we listen to a speaker, we often make assessments about how “good” he is based on his skill as a communicator. Among other criteria we might use, we assess the energy he brings to the topic, we assess his character, and we assess the
way something is said even more than
what is said (at least initially).
Some who choose to not use a manuscript (using an outline or no notes at all) reap the dividends of good communication practices: they seem spontaneous, authentic and they have eye contact, among other things. While it may be a difficult case to make, I still think the manuscript offers preachers specific yields that are worth recalling.
CreativityAmong those benefits is that the manuscript can function as a sermonic lab where our labor with words can be conducted methodically. Creativity is not so much “inspired” as it is “tutored” by careful, almost obsessive, labor. It is in that depth of focus where inspiration often leads
to discovery.
One student who appreciated the labor of words said, “Writing the sermon was like putting together a house made of toothpicks!” What she was acknowledging, apart from sheer exhaustion, was the importance of choosing words and images carefully; but the focus was not merely on toothpicks but a house. Barbara Brown Taylor and Fred Craddock both exhibit this gift, choosing words to create a holistic experience. If you listen to their sermons, you will probably notice that there are very few careless words—every word has its place, every word its purpose, even the seemingly “casual” word has a part to play.