To Thielicke, this worldliness was the glory -- not the scandal -- of Spurgeon's preaching. "Such critics ought to see in this man Spurgeon the shepherd who was willing to allow his robe -- including his clerical robe -- to be torn to tatters by thorns and sharp stones as he clambered after the lost sheep .... Worldly preaching is impossible without having the earth leave its traces on a man's wardrobe. Here there are no robes that look as if they had just come out of a sandbox."10

Spurgeon's humor, said Thielicke, is "Easter laughter," the laughter which comes as a "mode of redemption because it is sanctified -- because it grows out of an overcoming of the world ...."11

But Spurgeon's homiletical method -- revolutionary and effective though it was -- was not the foundation of his ministry nor the source of his power. Preaching was for Spurgeon first and foremost a matter of conviction, even before it blossomed into communication.

While the society Victorians often minimalized doctrine and the Tractarians taught their theory of doctrinal "reserve," Spurgeon preached a full-bodied gospel with substantive content and unashamed conviction. In this he was regarded as something of an exception, but he held fast to his biblical faith, Calvinist convictions, and evangelistic appeal.

"I take my text and make a beeline to the cross," explained Spurgeon, and that brief statement is Spurgeon's preaching method in sum. He would often preach as many as five to seven sermons a week, but the Sunday sermons at the Metropolitan Tabernacle consumed most of his energies in preparation. Spurgeon would seek texts for his Sunday sermons throughout the week, seeking through prayer, Bible reading, and conversation with friends (especially his devoted wife, Susannah) to find the most appropriate text for Sunday's sermons.

On Saturday night, he would sequester himself away from family and friends by six o'clock and remain in his study until the morning message was in outline form. From that outline, Spurgeon would preach an extemporaneous message lasting from forty-five minutes to an hour, on average.

Spurgeon found the identification of the text his most vexing challenge, and it consumed much of his energies during the week. "A man who goes up and down from Monday morning until Saturday night, and indolently dreams that he is to have his text sent down by an angelic messenger in that last hour or two of the week, tempts God, and deserves to stand speechless on the Sabbath," he charged.

His own struggle is made clear in this reflective passage: "I have often said that my greatest difficulty is to fix my mind upon the particular texts which are to be the subjects of discourse on the following day .... As soon as any passge of Scripture really grips my heart and soul I concentrate my whole attention upon it, look at the precise meaning of the original, closely examine the context so as to see the special aspect of the text in its surroundings, and roughly jot down all the thoughts that occur to me concerning the subject, leaving to a later period the orderly marshalling of them for presentation to my hearers."12