Not only seekers, but long-time church-attenders as well, don't use their Bibles in church — not because the verses are projected up on the screen, but because they're embarrassed at their inability to find Haggai or Ruth in under three seconds (like seemingly everyone else sitting around them). That's why in my church, when it comes time to turn to the Biblical text for the morning, we project on the screen the Bible table of contents with that book highlighted, and say something like, "Ruth is the eighth book of the Bible, and it begins on page 184 in the Bibles we provide for your use."
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Every speaker at Cobblestone Community Church (even me, perhaps the most visible member of the church) is asked to introduce himself, and is encouraged to seize opportunities to give listeners insight into the speaker's own life and personality — without revealing anything inappropriate, of course (and so much the better if it's vulnerable, self-effacing, and/or winsome).
Not everyone can tell a joke, but then, jokes are far from the only way — and far from the best way — to inject humor into a sermon. Candid observations about our own follies — particularly the speakers' foibles — are among the most effective ways to use humor.
One of the most crucial — and earliest — tasks of any preacher is to identify with listeners. In one message, on "How to Survive Suffering," I began my sermon with the phrase, "Sometimes a speaker bites off more than he can chew," and went on to detail why I felt ill-qualified to speak in a room filled with people who had suffered far more than me: a family losing their business, a couple each of whom were dealing with debilitating illnesses, a mother who'd lost her son, and so on. A sincere admission of our own struggles or a brief acknowledgment of the real-life issues others are facing is key to identifying with both seeker and Christian.
Seekers and Christians alike want to be inspired. They want their heart-strings to be plucked. And, while seekers in particular are alert to manipulation, they're nonetheless longing for a preacher who will help them not only to think, but also to feel. Any sermon that fails to engage both mind and heart is likely to disappoint.
I tell both my writing students and the preachers I mentor that the first question a writer or speaker must answer is, "So what?" If as a reader or listener, I am not promised something I want when you begin, I will quickly begin thinking about what time the football game starts or where I should take the family to eat after the service. And, if I was promised something when you started but you never delivered on your promise, I'll be far less likely to listen — or even return — next week.
And, finally, the number one thing both seekers and Christ-followers want in a sermon:
When I conclude a message at Cobblestone, I assume that all my listeners are interested in following through on what God has said to them. So in addition to giving them opportunity for private prayer and counsel, I try to suggest to them practical ways they can follow up on what they've learned. I've encouraged listeners to write their own mission statement, give away one possession in the coming week, or mail a postcard inviting someone to church the following week.
When it comes right down to it, it's not so different preaching to seekers or to Christians. With Christians, of course, you can assume some knowledge and take some liberties. And with seekers, you might face fewer taboos. But both groups seek essentially the same things from a teacher of God's Word-none of which are anything new, of course, but all of which we would do well to apply to every message we speak from now until Jesus returns.
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Bob Hostetler is Pastor of Leadership and Teaching at Cobblestone Community Church in Oxford, Ohio.