Living the Cliche

There is a thing that preachers tell each other when one of us thinks we've written a crappy sermon. It involves stories about how you really can't tell how a sermon will hit people, as evidenced by how many presumed bad sermons are enthusiastically received by congregants.

I lived this cliche today. I was looking forward to my sermon until I started writing it. Then I realized I should have started writing it a long time before I did. Because there was a lot to cover, and to be truly coherent it was going to require major editing.

So instead, I wrote what felt like a meandering, all over the place, mediocre sermon. It was even pretty short, which I guess is a major plus for a mediocre sermon. It wasn't that much shorter, page-wise, than some of my other sermons, but it must have read fast, because when I got to the top of the last page, I was shocked and wondered for a moment if I'd skipped a page. (I hadn't. I would like to think I would notice if that ever happened, but it felt so short I had to ask.)

But after church, where I haven't gotten more than 3 comments on any particular sermon in months, I had at least 5 people specifically compliment the sermon. One was because it was short, but still.

My sister, whose job it is to keep it real, pointed out that most people only listen to sermons in fits and starts, and so if they tuned in at a point when I was saying something they liked, they would probably like the sermon. This was to explain why meandering doesn't necessarily negate positive reaction.

But truly, either preachers aren't nearly as self-aware as we assume we are, or the Holy Spirit does some of her very best work on Sunday mornings. Or maybe it's both.