My first sermon

My first sermon was delivered to a sea of testosterone Tuesday night. (Yes, my preaching class is male with one notable exception. Smile.) What might surprise you, though, is that I actually referenced the terms menopause and monthly cycle in my sermon. Really.

My central point was that TRUE FAITH GROWS STRONGER THROUGH TESTING. And so I moved through Genesis 18:1-15, talking about the three visitors who came to Abraham and Sarah, their hospitality, and Sarah's laughter when they said she would have delivered a baby boy one year from then.

I explained Sarah's lifetime of infertility, the grief that flooded her being each month when she received her monthly cycle, and how decade after decade went by with no baby, a deep shame in her society. I mean, we know Sarah was an amazingly beautiful woman, but I think if she could have summed up her life to that point in two words she might say: ABJECT FAILURE.

So by the time these three guys (the Lord and two angels) show up on the scene, she is 89 years of age. She hears their prediction, and instead of crying the hot tears that had filled her childbearing years, she does what comes instinctively. She laughs at the preposterousness of it all. I would have, too, I fear. True faith is exposed in a moment. Sarah's faith was still in the incubation stage.

So God ups the ante. If we were to say it in today's lingo, in order to capture God's emphaticness and a fuller meaning of the text's intention, we would say, "Why in the world did Sarah laugh? Is anything too wonderful, extraordinary, or amazing for the Lord?"


The truth is, Sarah is still hiding by the tent, but she cannot stand it. She cannot take the heat. So she blurts: "Really, I did not laugh." And God nails her to the wall: "Actually, you did."

Now all of this would be truly sad if God wasn't up to something big. If He wasn't growing up Sarah and Abraham's faith. But He did exactly that. The New Testament sheds light on Sarah's growth in Hebrews 11:11 (RSV): "By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised."

To be honest, Sarah and Abraham make a great pair. God told him in the previous chapter that Sarah would have a son, and he rolled on the ground, laughing. But shriveled-up uteruses and failed dreams are nothing for the God who hung the moon and created our inmost being. Scholars think part of the reason God exposed Sarah and Abraham here was to grow their faith. The other? Quite possibly, to remind them to have sex at 89 and 99 years of age, respectively. To do their part to usher in the unthinkable promise.

True faith does grow stronger through testing. Abraham and Sarah are proof positive.

---------------------------------------
The sermon was well-received, and the pastor evaluating us encouraged me to preach it again, but next time, even more from Sarah's perspective (which is somewhat reflected above). He made me realize that I was the only one in the class who could preach it that way. I'm surprised to be saying this, but God is using the 20 males in my preaching class to challenge, encourage, and grow me in ways I never anticipated. Abba really does know what He is doing. Always. 

Things I Learn in Preaching Class

Last night in preaching class, I learned that I can get 10 out of 12 on a quiz and live to tell about it. That I can refuse my perfectionistic tendencies and embrace the fact that I am learning. That I can get an imperfect score on a quiz and still become a better and better preacher of His Word, by God's grace.

I am also learning that I have true friends and cheerleaders in the many males who populate the class. We are all in this together, in such a positive way, and since the preaching experience can be so scary and overwhelming and huge (as in, I have to GET THIS for my ministry), we commiserate and grow together. We are stronger because of the community aspect of the class. For which I thank God.

For awhile now, I think I have believed (without admitting it to myself), that men can teach and preach better than women, that they somehow carry more authority in their preaching. They have stronger voices and heartier constitutions, etc., but this is not all of it. This is the way I have been raised to think, of course, and so I, unconsciously, do.

I am starting to see, however, that truly effective preaching is not a function of gender. It is a function of getting the point across, of skillfully applying the cutting truth of God's Word to another's heart, in such a way that preaching becomes a redemptive experience.  Ask Anne Graham Lotz or Beth Moore.

At this point, some of you will be tempted to say that I should cultivate this skill to minister to women. And I understand where you are coming from--I've lived there. This last weekend, I attended a women's conference called Come to the Fire, where woman after woman got up to preach and share testimonies to 1,500 other women, and it taught me something, too.

That a sister can bring a message that will transform hearts and lives, displaying the image of God, and in a truly feminine way, pointing others to His truth and grace. There's little difference between teaching and preaching, anyhow, but these ladies were preaching. How do I know? They were proclaiming instead of just imparting truth.

Before the event was over, there was a healing service, in which ordained elders from different churches (all of them female) prayed for individuals who were confessing sin and asked for God's healing (James 5:13-16). I am naturally skeptical of healing services, but this one was entirely different, and very biblical. I felt God telling me that I need to trust Him, and so I confessed this to an elder, and she prayed for me and anointed me with oil, also praying for my struggle with infertility.

And so we stood, nose to nose, ezer to ezer, both of us with tears on our faces and hope in our hearts. The words this woman prayed to God were so specific and genuine that I almost crumbled under their weight.

And all of this reminded me of the power of God's ezers, women made in His image and set aside for His purposes. I suppose this is a circuitous way of telling you that I will teach and preach to women when given the opportunity to do so. I will also preach the beauty and truth of God's grace to anyone I can, male or female. To do less would be to ignore God's calling and His good gifts.

Acts 2:17-18

“‘In the last days, God says, 'I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy.'"

First semester, at a glance

I talked with my eight-year-old niece on the phone the other night and told her I was going back to school, but that I wouldn't be in second grade. She giggled. And giggled again when I told her I have my book bag ready to go.

Apparently it is quite funny to think of a grownup in a classroom. It's not that funny to me, but it does make me slightly itchy. It's been about fifteen years since I was in college, and although I consider myself a lifelong learner, I'm just hoping I'm up for the challenge of seminary.

ESV wide margin reference Bible, campus edition. (Perfect for writing in.) Check.

Messenger bag acquired for .50 at a garage sale. Affirmative.

Mac Powerbook ready to roll.

Old, but respected, commentaries on the shelf.

Mechanical pencils still needed.

I am 95% ready to go. Almost feel like a kid waiting for the school doors to open. Actually, that's exactly how I feel. 

I'm life ready for Hermeneutics, Understanding World Religions, and Spiritual Formation. I'm counting the days till I'm in orientation, acting like a freshman. (Officially, they call us "new students.") It will be joy to sit in chapel on Tuesday mornings and worship the Lord with like-minded students and faculty. And the mentoring group will be challenging and rich.

And I don't know if I mentioned it, but the adventure begins in just 45 days. Or a month and a half, depending on how you look at it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.