I have found that many, many times in my 32 years of ministry that what I thought the person/persons should receive, they didn’t. It was totally missed much to my chagrin. But maybe it was me who had missed it. Just maybe I had moved beyond my role of preparation and heart-felt instruction to assuming the role of application—a role reserved solely for the Spirit.
After Sunday morning’s Spirit-filled service I was greeting the folks while they were leaving and one, still rejoicing in what the Lord had done (specifically in the sermon) asked me, “Do you know what you preached?” with a tenor of excitement, expectation, and confirmation all rolled up into one as their eyes sparkled with anticipation. The sermon about being on the offensive in spiritual warfare had reignited a warrior in the battle.
Immediately my mind flipped to the first week of January, 1994—the 22 years seemed like only yesterday—and after preaching to our denomination’s North American leadership on how to shift from a legalistic Mount Sinai paradigm to the grace of Mount Zion, a well-respected bishop came to me with the very same question, “Do you know what you preached?” Only there wasn’t anticipation in his wisdom-filled countenance; rather, one of trepidation and alarm. An evolved organizational practice had been challenged and could we respond accordingly was his apprehension.
My answers to both were identical, “Yes.” But knowing what I had preached and understanding its extent are two very different things. Then again, knowing the Word’s future accomplishments is really not my initial concern: hearing Him in preparing and sharing is to be my focus. If that was done correctly my part has been completed and then the Holy Spirit makes individual application and revelation, as He also expands my understanding as well.
Have there been times in sermon preparation where I think I knew where (and possible to whom) a particular message or principle may be directed? To say ‘no’ would be untrue. However, I have found that many, many times in my 32 years of ministry that what I thought the person/persons should receive, they didn’t. It was totally missed much to my chagrin. But maybe it was me who had missed it. Just maybe I had moved beyond my role of preparation and heart-felt instruction to assuming the role of application—a role reserved solely for the Spirit.
Have there been times where I have mentally prepared and rehearsed and regurgitated a particular upcoming conversation to ‘help’ someone see their error…uhm, yes. Did it ever work out just that way or even come to pass…uhm, rarely.
Why so? Making application for another is just not my job; speaking truth in love and humility is. Planning my conversation must give way to praying for that conversation and then let the Holy Spirit give the words in that exchange (cf. Mark 13:11).
If I fall into that trap of application, a transgression of 1 Peter 5:3 occurs: “Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being examples to the flock.” There is a proper authority given to those in leadership as seen in 1 Thessalonians 5:12 and 1 Timothy 5:17; however, in 1 Peter 5 the context is not proper authority but one of high-handed rule.
High-handed rule is a practice to be avoided not just by church leaders, but all Christians in those given situations.
Maybe after another 22 years when I am asked that question, “Do you know what you preached?” I will have a better answer. Better yet, maybe in another 22 years we will all be rejoicing around the throne, our work on earth done, and that question will never again be asked!
