Years and years ago at a preaching seminar, the leaders distributed materials to those of us in attendance which included a warning. We, who were audacious enough to attempt the practice of preaching, were given a cautionary little poem by Edgar Guest to alert us to preaching’s greatest hazard. Here is an excerpt of that poem: “I’d rather see a sermon than hear one any day; I’d rather one should walk with me than merely tell the way … I might misunderstand you and the high advice you give, But there’s no misunderstanding how you act and how you live.”
Yes, there it is. Preaching’s greatest hazard is that it has the capacity to make obvious the preacher’s hypocrisies. Of course what we say ought to correlate with what we do, but sadly the two are not always perfect reflections of one another. But that’s true whether we are preachers in a formal sense or not, isn’t it? And since actions speak so much more loudly than words ever do, our lives are inevitably our most audible and eloquent sermons. When you think of it that way, every one of us preaches every single day.
Have you thought about what you’re preaching by how you live? If your life is your sermon, what are you saying? Would others come away from an hour with you – or a week or a decade – and have learned humility from you by the way you offer respect and deference to all those you encounter, regardless of their apparent rank or importance? Would the witnesses to your life’s sermon learn gratitude from you by the way you exhibit contentment with what you have and appreciation for all you’ve received? Would those who witness your life’s sermon learn hope from you through your unwillingness to succumb to despair in difficult circumstances? Would they learn compassion through your helpful response to those who struggle? Would they learn patience through your life’s story, or perseverance, or kindness, or mercy, or faithfulness? What do others learn by observing you? What does your life proclaim?
If poet Edgar Guest is right, we aren’t fooling anyone. Our lives’ sermons are perfectly apparent and quite instructive in what they declare about our commitments and our beliefs. Now, that may be a little intimidating to acknowledge, because it implies that every aspect of our lives is potentially revelatory about our deepest and truest selves. But the potential of our lives for conveying matters of enormous importance also means that each of us is granted a great opportunity. Day by day we climb out of bed and into a public pulpit to speak through our actions about what we think matters most. We get to live out the principles and convictions we cherish.
So let’s make it matter. Let’s use the platform our lives offer by conveying what we care about clearly and carefully and well. Or, as St. Francis is said to have phrased it: “Preach the Good News at all times. If necessary, use words.”
