Faith is not neutral. Preaching is a practice of faith. Neutrality in preaching is not attainable. These statements are flat-footed, I know, but this point of clarity is one of the most important to have moving forward. Often people contest attending to the social issues that impact our lives based on appeals to neutrality, not being political, or not wishing to offend. Such claims are contradictory in and of themselves. People of faith affirm values, name what seems most meaningful, and do so in the midst of ample alternative views. We take a position or have an opinion about whatever we most believe. Those opinions have implications, for better or worse, whether they are implied or explicit.
People often appeal to false neutrality when they cannot reconcile or find a reasonable bridge between faith and what they have heard. This irreconcilability brings us to one of the greatest pitfalls when attempting to lay bare all of life in speaking with people of faith. Preaching goes awry and misses the mark either by not naming what is at stake in the claims being made or by not naming why people of faith should be concerned based on the values they claim. Often leaders themselves do not know how to create better bridges between a tradition and what appears to matter most in the world. This inability may be due to a tradition that seems at odds with the concerns of life on the ground or that may perceive the world that emerges from Scripture and todayâs world as too far apart.
Without thoughtful, faith-informed insight, preaching that tries to engage the issues of the day risks becoming little more than a political stump speech, leaving many listeners to ask, âWas that a sermon?â But that to which we generally exclaim, âYes! Thatâs a sermon!â also may be in jeopardy. Unless a message candidly addresses life on the ground and moves to the collective concerns of life together, it succumbs to being an insular message hovering in the clouds. These messages never attend to faith as a dynamic and significant influence on the way we live and operate in the world.
One must be in conversation with the values that matter to people of faith when seeking their ethical and responsible involvement in what seems to matter most on the ground. Doing so with integrity goes beyond merely addressing political or social issues with general scriptural principles that distinguish right from wrong or proof-texting claims with Scripture. It calls for preachers to mine Scripture and tradition deeply and thoroughly in order to build relevant and meaningful bridges between Christian faith and life on the ground while remembering that faith itself is not bound to a text and tradition is not static. Faith is dynamic and takes on its lively textures in our lives in ways that supersede any texts, creeds, and doctrinesâeven as these things spur our ability to remember the stimulus for belief.
Guided Conversations
âName as many faith words as you can. Call them out,â she said. There were long pauses as the group struggled to answer, only mustering out a few words. âWhat stuff do you talk about at church?â she prodded. The momentum was slow going, but someone finally said, âJesus!â Another person rang out, âGrace.â Eventually, one personâs response would spur someone elseâs response. By the end, we had filled two full-sized whiteboards with words: Hope. Communion. Discipleship. Revelation. Creation. God. Sex. War. Crucifixion. Food. Bodies. Joy. Peace. Love. Wrath. Judgment. Forgiveness. Prayer. Salvation. Repentance. Floods. Prophets. Atonement. And so on.
She then recounted a story from an immersion course she taught at the MexicoâUS border. The details of the story are not as important as what came next. She asked each participant to survey their collection of words and to choose five, narrow that list to two, and then choose only one to use in a sentence about the story they had just heard. That sentence was each personâs faith claim.
The instructions seemed simple enough: recall all that you know about faith, pay attention to this occurrence in the world, and now say something about it. The end goal was the same whether they started with something happening in the world or started with trying to recall what framed their thinking for understanding life with God and one another. The group had taken up this agonizing task in some form or another for seven weeks. There were no âright answersâ to give. The process was about observation and responding. With a guide for the process, they thought and responded together, called upon what they knew, acquired new information, and tried collectively to discern their way to a more right-fitting response than the last.
I was exhausted from guiding countless sessions like this inside and outside the classroom. So I watched with relief as someoneâwho had done it longer than Iâconducted this latest session: my former professor and now colleague, Viki Matson. Ten years had passed since I last sat in a classroom with Viki, watching her teach theological reflection by helping people do it on the spot. Now she was leading the sixth group of students over eight years to take my course Preaching the Headlines. This was the first time in all those years that a crossover was happening. One of my initial influencers in the creation of the course was guiding a group through the throes of its methods. The course was unfamiliar to Viki, but its methods were not. True, the process had morphed in the ten years that had passed as I used it alongside preaching methods and theories, but the essentials remained.
For years, I shrugged off comments from students like âThank youâ and âWe couldnât have made it here without you.â In those moments, through exhausting mind, heart, and spirit bending, the group had moved from piles of disjointed and vague thoughts to a coherent faith claim that rang with clarity and veracity as they surveyed what seemed to matter most in the times at hand. These were claims we believed had something or someone at stake on the other side of them. These were claims we felt people in our communities could understand, even in the presence of internal resistance. People may not have wanted to like the claims, as all their biases were challenged, for during the most generative sessions, even those of us in the room had to contend with our varying preferences and privileges. But folks would be hard pressed to deny them on the basis of their faith because the claims were formulated from the most bedrock values of Christianity.
After years of teaching, I needed my guide in the room that day more than I knew. Watching her reminded me that there was a method to this messy process. Some processes for thinking do more saliently open up the intersections between faith and life on the ground, including their pitfalls and possibilities. And those same processes breathe new air into long-used methods of sermon development and preachingâincluding how we encounter Scripture, how that encounter is impacted by our experiences, and how our faith claims buttress conviction and, ultimately, the message itself.
Eight years into teaching âmy class,â I still needed Viki and every single group of those students to hold up a mirror to my approach. They helped remind me of its hopes and sharpen its techniques for more right-fitting outcomes. More than I wanted them to, I realized the studentsâ âThank youâ and âWe couldnât haveâ statements over the years were saying the same about me as I had said about Viki in the room that day. The process and I were guides that were helping the students better articulate what they most believed to be true. But in earnest, we, collectively, were the guides we all needed.
Sitting back to assess the framework out of which we were working and thinking helped me return to the classroom and this project with a broadened yet clarified agenda. My sole agenda in the pages that follow is to offer preachers, people of faith, and those interested in communities of faith the same that Viki offered me, that I offered students, and, indeed, that students offered me in return. My hope is to offer a guided conversation about faith and life.
What It Is All About
By now, it should be discernible that Headlines in the title Preaching the Headlines is a metaphor for all those things our communities are struggling with and wondering about. The focus here is not on splattering sermons with headlines. In a literal sense, headlines are specific topics found in actual newspapers or in leading stories on television, radio, or online outlets, whether local or global. The greatest interest is in the stories behind and beyond the headlines and their interconnectedness across subject matters. These are the stories of the broader issues at play in the world. These issues impact our daily livesâboth our flourishing and our demise. People of faith are trying to determine why and how these issues are of concern to them. Such clarification enables sustained responsivenessâwhether that response is via a pulpit or not. The headlines are the times at hand. The headlines are our lives grounded in the present day.
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Preaching the Headlines assumes, crisis or not, that we communicate and live our faith as though our lives depend on it. This is not about life in a metaphorical sense, as if it was removed from the body; itâs about life in its fleshy fullnessâbody, mind, and soul as one. The fullness of life includes its situated flourishing right here and right now. Weâre attending to life in its fragility and in its greatest possibilities. Lifeâs greatest possibilities require the precursor of our survival. This is about real lives. Attending to life is not free of politics, but it is also not reduced to politics, party lines, allegiances, or divides.
This approach to preaching and conversation is about attending to the totality of life on the ground. Yes, we care for our spiritual, emotional, and physical needs in order for us to survive one more day in this dogged world. And yes, we attend to what makes the world so dogged in the first place. No border exists between pastoral care and the pursuit of justice, setting the world right-side up and calling out the chasm between the world as it is and could be. Both are concerns of God and both become concerns of those who claim to be people of God. This posture responds to the call of Micah 6:8 to do justice, love kindness, and move forward humbly with God.
Practically speaking, the preacher remains aware that in their midst is a survivor of domestic violence along with an abuser or someone who cannot make ends meet as well as someone who can help others meet their ends. The preacher remains privy to the person with limited mobility or hearing loss. The preacher is clear there are those with skin hues, family lineages, and life partnerships different from their own. As life goes, people have lost loved ones, and they themselves may be terminally ill. So the preacher chooses their language and body gestures and interprets Scripture in ways that take seriously what total well-being and life abundant mean amid all these realities. In other words, the preacher is accountable to each life before them. Most importantly, the preacher and community engage more right-fitting resources for this workâwhether those resources are inside or outside the faith tradition.
Leaders think and communicate to sustain life, which means they are committed to greater humility and risk-taking. The preacher does not give answers because they do not have all the answers. Instead, they extend an invitation. The invitation is one that creates a different paradigm for how we think and actâto become more engaged persons, no matter how big or small the corners of the world we occupy. This invitation is made possible by faith leaders themselves asking better and more critical questions without knowing where the responses may lead.1 The push is for people of faith to claim their agency to think critically about, imagine, and pursue lifesaving transformations of the world at hand.2 Salvation becomes just as tangible as it is spiritual.
The greatest implications here are for supporting accountable and engaged people of faith. All of this assumes people of faith do not depend solely on answers from religious leaders and that they learn to pursue their own questions and hunches. Their dependence on religious leaders is one that holds leaders accountable for opening a space for exploration. In this space, they may judge for themselves together and access their capacity to think and act.3 These are matters of relationship, agency, self-leadership, and communal volition. This agency may take a variety of forms, including organizing communities, bringing affordable healthy food options to towns and eliminating âfood swamps,â4 supporting local businesses, caring for people in nursing homes, helping formerly incarcerated people make a successful transition from prison, working to dismantle the prison industrial complex itself, being mindful of ableism in worship services, advocating for public policies that are just and compassionate, showing up at the protest line and local city council meetings, and more. Thereâs plenty of need to go around. The ability to engage the world around us in more responsible ways requires our willingness to think and interrogate in community.
Claims of Clarity and Substance
This orientation to the life of faith is not about relative truths or nonsubstantive claims. Instead, the community gains greater clarity about what it holds most true about its traditions and the possibilities that lie therein and beyond. For starters, we become clear that we cannot compromise our neighbor in the name of loving God. Loving God is not a warm, fuzzy, commercialized emotion; it is about living mindful of God. To live in awareness of God requires uncompromising effort in living mindful of our neighbor. The mandates of love, given in both the Old and the New Testaments of Christian Scriptures (Deut 6:4â5; Matt 12:28â33), demand the entire self; a half-hearted effort wonât do. We are to orient the very seat of our beingsâour hearts, our minds, and our mightâin the direction of God and neighbor. This mandate is not âworks righteousnessâ but a âturning towardâ that leads to âdoing.â
This turning toward our neighbor does not erase or diminish our own well-being. In fact, how we attend to our neighbor reflects the health of our disposition toward ourselvesââlove your neighbor as yourselfâ (Mark 12:31). Thinking less worthily of ourselves is not the way of loving our neighbor. We are not called to suffer to the point of our own deterioration and demise in the name of someone else. But practicing hate toward our neighbor also diminishes our own humanity. Practicing hate toward our neighbor illuminates the self-hate present in the need to claim ourselves as better or more worthy of the fullness of life than another. Ultimately, practicing love toward our neighbor reflects the vibrancy of our self-awareness and our awareness of God.
Neither the community of faith nor preaching holds claim to less, but both hold claim to more. They err on the side of love of God and love of neighbor in their most vibrant, radical, and embodied forms. They hold claim to lifeâs viability and love having the final authority over whatever we say and do in the name of faith. They claim our state of relationships as a flicker of the transforming realm of God5 that we hope is to come, a realm that breaks in from time to time, as it is simultaneously already here but not yet.
The assumption here is not only that the enduring structures of power and dominance that create the greatest woes in our midst will âbe toppled,â but that we, as people of faith, have âpersonal agency in Godâs visionâ for that toppling and a more just world.6 Evelyn Parker describes this working relationship between hope and agency as emancipatory hope.7 We are invited to participate in both the toppling over and the realm to come. So in the face of many unknown âanswersâ to the question ...