Evangelicals Now
<< November 2003 >>

The crucified preacher

Evangelist Roger Carswell explains

Every time I stand in front of a group of people to speak about Christ, I get stirred in my heart. What a privilege to share the gospel with men and women! There is no joy quite like it.

Usually I find myself in conversation with people who want to know more, or have questions they are yearning to ask. But sometimes the reaction of the hearers is far from warm.

For instance, there have been occasions when I have been 'frozen' by the audience to whom I am speaking. In some school assemblies, or university refectories, or even more traditional settings, there is an 'atmosphere' you can feel (though no one has said anything), that conveys the notion: 'We don't want to hear what you are saying'. Little or nothing is said afterwards, but you know that the gospel message has not gone down well. That inevitably creates an ache in the heart. Who doesn't want affirmation? A friend once said to me: 'Happiness is not in your job description!' And yet everyone who is involved in proclaiming Christ one-to-one or one-to-a-crowd, wants to believe that what has been said has been appreciated.

The desire for affirmation can become so compelling that it is tempting to succumb to its lure. It starts with a process where one changes first some of the words and phrases, then the emphasis of the message and, finally, the message itself. It can happen very subtly. But it is dangerous, for we can find ourselves simply tickling itching ears.

There is also the temptation to omit some less palatable aspects of the gospel so that what one says is correct, but some key truths are simply never mentioned. It is all too easy to become what C.S. Lewis called 'an accommodating preacher' and water down the word of God. Michael Watts, in his booklet Why the English stopped going to church, argues that the decline in church attendance began around 1850, when, because of the desire to be respected and reputable, both hell and the substitutionary atonement of Christ began not to be taught. So how can we be godly, faithful presenters of God's word?

We die to what we preach

When Stephen preached in Acts 7, the crowd listened until he faithfully applied the message. Then they turned against him, and he became the first Christian martyr. In Greek, the word 'witness' is based on the same word as 'martyr'. To preach faithfully means that we must be willing to die to self. Every preacher must deny himself, take up the cross and proclaim the word of God.

The greatest lesson in homiletics (or the study of preaching), is that the preacher has to learn to be willing to die to the clamour of the applause of the audience, the building of a good reputation, the excitement of giving 'a good word', and the thrill of knowing that one is regarded as a gifted preacher. 'For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for God's sake (2 Corinthians 4.5). Oswald Chambers said: 'Never water down the word of God. Preach it in its undiluted sternness. There must be unflinching loyalty to the word of God, but when you come to personal dealing with your fellow men, remember who you are - not a special being made up in heaven but a sinner saved by grace.'

I have heard preachers, who are great communicators, and even very funny comedians, but who, to my mind at least, have not been faithful preachers of the word. The words we proclaim must be spirit and life. It is not 'woe is me if I do not wow or woo the audience'. It is not even 'woe is me if I do not preach what Jesus has done for me', but 'woe is me if I do not preach the gospel'. Without fear or favour let us preach what God has given us, recognising that God is in the audience, and it is he whom we must please.

We die to how we preach

I would have loved to have heard the apostle Paul preach, and if I had, I would have heard a man who deliberately did not rely on himself, but on God who raises the dead (2 Corinthians 1.9). He did not proclaim the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. Instead he determined to know nothing except 'Jesus Christ and him crucified. He came aware of his own weakness and in fear and with much trembling. His trust was not in plausible words or wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and power (1Corinthians 2.1-4). His authority and power rested not on his method of preaching, but in the source of the message, which was the word of God.

This does not mean that we should not prepare to communicate well. It does mean that our dependence is on God and not on ourselves. God knows what is the truth, and we are presumptuous if we feel we can juggle the words and themes of the Bible to make them more palatable for today's audience. The preacher must never be a detractor from Jesus, but one who cries in clear, certain and compassionate words: 'Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world'.

Neither does it mean that because I have the truth of God's word, I can speak aggressively and arrogantly. We read of the Lord that he did not shout or cry out in the street (Isaiah 42.2). He was tender, compassionate and winsome, and so should we be.

Humour, anecdotes, illustrations, alliteration, balanced sentences and a host of other means of attracting and keeping attention are surely right, but they must never draw attention to the preacher rather than the Lord. And if appreciation is given at the end of the message, then we give the Lord all the glory. (Corrie Ten Boom, when thanked after she had spoken, received the appreciation as if she had been given a rose. At the end of a day, she said, she loved to present to the Lord a bouquet of roses, recognising that all she had been able to do was because of the Lord.)

We die to whom we preach

If the preacher is to die to self, it will affect where he ministers, as well as how he ministers. The Lord preached in cities and to large crowds, but also in villages and to individuals. It is wonderful to be given large opportunities. However, it is my conviction that as so much of Christian activity (at least in the UK) is done in small works, it is right to go to the struggling causes as well as the successful ones, to go to small Christian Unions as well as those bursting at the seams.

Dying to self also means that the preacher will proclaim the gospel to the poor as well as the wealthy. Everyone has the right to hear the good news of Jesus. We are neither to neglect the affluent, nor turn away from the cry of the poor. Heaven will be filled with people from every tribe and language and people and nation and every class and intellectual ability.

Our aim in preaching is not to impress, but to simply express eternal truth so that all may hear and understand. Martin Luther said: 'When I preach I regard neither doctors nor magistrates, of whom I have above 40 in my congregation. I have all my eyes on the servant maids and on their children. And if the learned men are not well-pleased with what they hear, well, the door is open.'

We die when we preach

Paul's final charge to young Timothy was to 'preach the word; be instant in season and out of season'. I have known preachers who give their word, and then walk by those who listened, unwilling to talk to any of them. Proclamation, though, is as much one-to-one, when there is a seeking or hurting soul, as it is speaking to the crowds. To break the hard heart or heal the broken one is exhausting work, but it is what we are called to. And what better way to spend and be spent? It may be that we become too old to be preaching in pulpits, but there never comes a time when we are to be silent about the Lord. Again, Paul, at the end of his life, in Rome, from morning to evening expounded, testified and persuaded people about the Lord, from the Word.

Jeremiah preached faithfully and was mocked and imprisoned. John the Baptist preached faithfully and was beheaded. Stephen preached faithfully and was stoned to death. Ridley and Latimer and a host of others in Europe preached faithfully and were burned to death. Richard Wurmbrand preached faithfully and was put in solitary confinement for 14 years. If we proclaim faithfully, we too will have to die, at least to self, and perhaps to more. The Lord, who made himself of no reputation and went to the cross, tells of the blessing there is in dying to self: 'Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone, but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for ever' (John 12.24,25).

Roger Carswell