Some listeners like it when the preacher leaves the pulpit. “Preachers in general, I would tell to get out from behind the pulpit and be real and loosen up a little bit.” Another requests, “Come down out of that pulpit sometimes and come down into the aisle and really talk to the people. Sometimes I think that makes a big difference, because . . . when you really come down and talk to the people, and you’re on their level, it’s a little more personal for them.”
However, other members of the interview churches stress that movement needs to be purposeful. “Some preachers are nervous and it comes out in the way of jitteriness. Maybe they can’t stand still. Maybe they pace. I think you begin to worry about that movement. ‘Oh, my gosh, they’re going to knock over that glass of water.’” In such circumstances, “You become more involved in that kind of thing and not hearing what they’re saying.”
Almost as many listeners in the study urged preachers to keep the sermon within a time limit as called for lively embodiment. Speaking in behalf of many other interviewees, one says as directly as possible, “Stay within the time frame.” To be sure, different congregations are socialized to expect sermons of different length, varying from ten minutes in an Episcopal congregation made up of persons of non-Hispanic European origin to thirty minutes (or more) in an African-American Baptist congregation. Of course, listeners in all traditions acknowledge occasions when the sermon seems to take the wings of the Spirit in ways that bypass the ticking of the clock. Indeed, one commentator allows that length is not as much a function of chronology as it is of meaning. “What makes the sermon too long is if it gets too far away from me personally and you lose my interest.”
Yet, with respect to the usual Sunday service, we hear significant numbers of people in all congregations who say something like, “I am annoyed when someone gets up and goes on for an extra half-hour and that happens without them telling me they’re going to do it. I think you start and stop when you’re supposed to.” One interviewee offers a loose quantification. “I think it’s probably time to wind it up — the sermon. Like we’ve had that high moment. I think sometimes it decreases its power by maybe ten percent with an extra five minutes.” Another says, “The best thing about our minister’s sermons is that the minister knows when to quit. The minister knew when the point had been made, and stops.” An extensive remark is unusually vivid: