The Oates Journal (ISSN: 1098-1446) is a publication of the Wayne E. Oates Institute addressing issues related to spirituality, ethics, and healing from the perspective of pastoral care and counseling.

In July of 2001, my mother and father were involved in a car accident caused by an unlicensed driver. My dad survived the accident, but after three days of struggling with significant injuries my mother died. Even though I had not lived in my parents’ home for over 30 years, my mother’s death was devastating to me. I remained with my father for almost two weeks helping him put his life back together, and then spent a week at the beach to put myself back together. Eventually, I had to face a very practical decision—when I returned to my pulpit at FBC, Winston-Salem, what kind of sermon would I preach?

Part of me wanted to simply preach a “safe” sermon on the designated lectionary passage of the day. But another part of me wondered if I could preach with integrity and sidestep my recent experience with searing grief and nagging theological questions. A pastor friend who lost a sibling to suicide convinced me that my congregation would benefit if I would openly reflect on my own experiences in the context of a sermon.

So summoning all my available homiletical courage, I proceeded to preach on my first Sunday back at the church a sermon entitled, “A Grief Observed,” modeled after C.S. Lewis’ book by the same title. I did my best to be open and honest about my grief without being an emotional exhibitionist (more about this in a moment). And I tried to balance exploration of my personal “valley of the shadow” with biblical themes related to death, hope, and heaven.

I was totally unprepared for the reaction afterwards. I’ve been preaching for 30 years, and have never received the kind of overwhelming response to a sermon before or since. Because our worship services are televised, I received many letters and emails from both church members and TV viewers. And I had many conversations in my office and elsewhere with folks who were moved by my open expression of grief. What I learned is that many people carry multiple levels of grief deep in their psyche and soul—grief over lost marriages, jobs, relationships, and health as well as loved ones. And I learned that the potential for pastoral care in a sermon is far greater than I had ever imagined.

Models in Scripture

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the potential for pastoral care in preaching; not if I had been paying attention to inspired communicators in scripture. The most common command in the Bible is “Fear not,” or some variation thereof. It’s as though the Spirit who inspired scripture knows our default mode is to live in fear rather than faith.

Certainly, this is true when it comes to our fear of death. Not surprisingly, the most beloved scripture in all the Old Testament is the 23rd Psalm, where King David offers these well-known words of consolation—"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, and thy rod and thy staff they comfort me" (v. 4, KJV). In ways no one can quite explain, these words have soothed anxious hearts for many centuries.

So, of course, have the words of the master teacher and preacher, Jesus our Lord. How many pastors have read these reassuring words from Jesus (in the KJV), quoted in John 14, before preaching funeral meditations? "Let not your heart be troubled, you believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am you may be also" (v. 1-3).

The Apostle Paul picks up this refrain in Romans 8 when, sitting on death row, he asks the not-so-rhetorical question: Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Paul mentions possible barriers between us and Christ—tribulation, distress, the sword—and concludes that nothing, not even death shall be able to separate us from the love of God…in Christ Jesus our Lord (v.35-39, KJV).

These are just three examples of the many proclamations of scripture that offer healthy models of pastoral care in the face of crisis. If biblical preachers used proclamation as a medium for pastoral care, why should modern communicators of the gospel do any less?

Effective Pastoral Preaching

In his book, The Pastor’s Soul Volume 3: Preaching With Spiritual Passion, Ed Rowell shares how he learned through similar experiences to mine how much pastoral care can happen through a sermon. He describes one parishioner who thought of him as one of his best friends even though they spent little time together. And he relates that on more than one occasion, this same parishioner observed after hearing Ed’s sermons he could only conclude Ed was reading his mind or his mail, or both!

What ingredients need to be present for preaching to become an opportunity for effective pastoral care? First and foremost, says Rowell, listeners must feel that the preacher cares for them.

In a lecture at Beeson Divinity School, Dr. Elizabeth Achtemeier told of a former student who couldn’t preach. She struggled to understand what was wrong, until the student started talking about his congregation. “They’re all a bunch of stupid jerks,” he said. In response, Achtemeier stated unequivocally, “It is impossible to preach to people you hate.”

Pastors who wish to convey love to parishioners cannot depend on words lovingly delivered…alone. Love communicated outside of worship through a kind word, a gentle touch, or warm hug reinforces love projected through the tone and content of sermons. On the other hand, treating people with contempt, as though they are “a bunch of stupid jerks” over the course of ministry undermines our attempts to project a loving attitude in our sermons.

Rowell observes, “Preaching provides me with the opportunity to touch more people in thirty minutes than I could possibly minister to in a week of conventional pastoral care.” But the awesome potential of pastoral care in preaching can never be realized apart from a previously established relationship of love and respect between a pastor and his/her congregation.

Another way to connect with parishioners on a pastoral level is to communicate honestly about a point of struggle, or to borrow from Henri Nouwen (see especially The Wounded Healer), to share from your woundedness rather than strength. This is precisely what I did in my sermon about grief after my mother’s unexpected death. Over my years of pastoral ministry, I have also become vulnerable, to a point, about other struggles with pride, doubt, fear, etc.

I say “to a point” because the preacher must be careful to be appropriately open without “emotionally disrobing” in the pulpit. In his book, The Wounded Healer, Henri Nouwen (1972) explains:

On the one hand, no minister can keep his own experience of life hidden from those he wants to help. Nor should he want to keep it hidden. While a doctor can still be a good doctor even when his private life is severely disrupted, no minister can offer service without a constant and vital acknowledgement of his own experiences. On the other hand, it would be easy to misuse the concept of the wounded healer by defending a form of spiritual exhibitionism. A minister who talks in the pulpit about his own personal problems is of no help to his congregation, for no suffering human being is helped by someone who tells him that he has the same problems. Remarks such as, ‘Don’t worry because I suffer from the same depression, confusion, and anxiety as you do,’ help no one. This spiritual exhibitionism adds little faith to little faith and creates narrow-mindedness instead of new perspectives. Open wounds stink and do not heal.

Making one’s own wounds a source of healing, therefore, does not call for a sharing of superficial personal pains but for a constant willingness to see one’s own pain and suffering as rising from the depth of human condition from which all men share. (p.90)

I’ve learned through experience that the key is to find a way to share appropriately, letting the congregation know that you know what it is like to be human, to be fearful and fragile, to be tempted and tested. As you share from your heart, people feel comfortable about approaching you regarding all manner of things.

As we explore the fragile anatomy of being human in all its frailty, it’s also important to be a consistent purveyor of hope. Many years ago when I was a seminary student, a professor told me something I doubted at the time. He observed that any time I stood to preach, 50% of my listeners would be in crisis, 25% would have just emerged from a crisis, and the remaining 25% would soon find themselves in crisis.

I thought this assessment to be too dismal at the time, and any of us could argue with the accuracy of the statistics. But over time I have learned that this declaration captures the truth that life is a rough and tumble sport for all our listeners, and at any given moment many of them live perched on the edge of private despair. They despair about their stale marriages and meaningless jobs, about their finances and their children, about loss of health and independence, about the meaning of life itself.

Knowing that many parishioners are dangerously close to throwing in the towel, our preaching should reflect a steady dose of encouragement and hope. Twenty-five years ago Bill Bruster and Robert Dale co-wrote a book entitled, How to Encourage Others: A Resource for Preaching and Caring (Broadman Press). The book, which offers both pastoral reflections about issues like stress, grief, worry, anger, and depression, and sermons about the same issues, was written to help pastors deliver encouragement from the pulpit.

In a book review written by Steve Harris (January 1984) entitled, “Bringing Barnabas to Sunday Morning,” Bruster is quoted as saying, “We do far too little encouraging in our preaching. The gospel is good news, and encouragement in itself is good news. Look at the ministry of Jesus—he did far more encouraging than he ever did condemning. The only folks he really got after were the scribes and Pharisees, and that was for their hypocrisy. The majority of his ministry was bringing words of hope, forgiveness, healing, and encouragement.”

Harris explains that Bruster deliberately plans to preach a sermon of encouragement at least once every six weeks. Bruster observes, “When I preach a sermon that addresses real human need or a real-life situation, I find high receptivity. People listen to these sermons. I almost always find an increase in my counseling appointments the following week. They create all kinds of ministry opportunities.”

Harris asks Bruster in his review what a preacher who preaches on real-life needs can realistically expect to happen. How much can a sermon on depression, for example, really do?

“We cannot cure from the pulpit,” Bruster says. “But we can let folks know that help is available and that we’re willing to face these tough issues with them. That’s an accomplishment in itself.”

From my own experience I’ve learned the truth of Bruster’s observations offered a quarter of a century ago. Last fall I preached a series of sermons based on Old Testament characters like Dinah and Tamar about the “taboo” (at least in church) subjects of sexual abuse and domestic violence. The sermons were challenging to say the least, and they elicited strong reactions, both positive and negative.

Parents of young children were anxious that their children might hear something inappropriate, despite my best efforts to keep the sermons “G” rated (no small feat with “X”-rated stories!). But the positive reaction was also profound. One person (interestingly enough a male) who heard one of the sermons told me later he felt it was “the best sermon he’d ever heard, but didn’t know why.” Later, he was flooded with formerly repressed memories of sexual abuse as a child inflicted by a neighbor. Eventually, this person received psychotherapy and is now able to function without several addictive behaviors that had been dominating his behavior. Women came forward as well and admitted to one another (and later to me) that they were being abused in a variety of ways at home. Already we’ve had one local expert come into our church to speak about sexual abuse and domestic violence, and another conference is planned soon on the same subjects.

Of course, I am no expert on these difficult subjects, and could not expect to cure anybody through my sermons. But my willingness to approach these hard subjects in a biblical way within a supportive faith community, and my encouragement to those involved to get help made a difference in the lives of several people. Despite the criticism from some quarters, I will consider doing similar series of sermons (next time without children in the room!) about real-life issues from time to time.

Benefits of Providing Pastoral Care Through Preaching

When pastors are willing to address real-life issues with honesty, biblical insight, and heart-felt love, great benefits will emerge. Opportunities for follow-up pastoral care and counseling will abound. People who have been reluctant to get help, in some cases for years, will be motivated to take the risk and begin talking about issues that have long troubled them. This is especially true if pastors will communicate that talking to a counselor is a wise thing to do for all of us—including pastors.

Years ago I heard a nationally known pastor admit that he reached a point in his life when he was near an emotional breakdown. He acknowledged that he finally decided to see a Christian counselor, and that counselor “saved his life.” I wondered how many parishioners and pastors were made to feel more comfortable about seeking counseling because this famous Christian pastor was so open about his positive experience with counseling.

Parenthetically, I myself was motivated by this pastor to seek counseling for some issues that needed attention in my life. Today, I see a Spiritual Director once a month to keep working on my spiritual and emotional health. In truth, I believe pastors who attempt to delve into real-life issues without doing the necessary emotional and spiritual work within themselves can sometimes do more harm than good when it comes to helping others. I also believe that even spiritually and emotionally healthy pastors should recognize their limits when it comes to follow-up care and counseling. My own rule, which may or may not be applicable to others, is that I will counsel with people for up to three sessions. If the issue cannot be dealt with in three sessions, I readily refer counselees to professionals who have the time and expertise to do what I cannot.

Another benefit of pastoral preaching is that it allows me to engage in prophetic preaching when necessary. Dealing with hard subjects about ethical issues in society, or delicate issues within a church is never easy. But it is much easier, and much better received when parishioners know their pastor loves them, understands them and has spent time caring for them and their families from the pulpit.

Recently, I received a letter from a pastor friend inviting me to participate in a preaching conference. The letter contained the following quotation from David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor used in the Series Introduction of their new resource, Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Lectionary (Westminster John Knox Press):

A preacher’s work is never done. Teaching, offering pastoral care, leading worship, and administering congregational life are only a few of the responsibilities that can turn preaching into just one more task of pastoral ministry. Yet, the Sunday sermon is how the preacher ministers to most people most of the time…Whether the sermon is five minutes long or forty-five, it is the congregation’s one opportunity to hear directly from their pastor about what life with Christ means and why it matters (emphasis mine).

If this observation is true—and I believe it is—then surely the pastor much use the sermon as his or her primary opportunity to identify the tough issues that make our lives difficult, and the resources the Christian tradition brings to bear on those tough issues. We will be better preachers because of the hard work we will need to do to deliver such sermons with integrity and effectiveness. And our listeners will potentially benefit in life-changing ways. Most importantly, we will be following the leadership of our Lord who routinely liberated people from all kinds of bondage, and led them into the hope and peace only God can provide.

References

Bruster, Bill and Robert Dale. How to encourage others: A resource for preaching and caring. Nashville: Broadman Press.

Nouwen, Henri J. M. (1972). The wounded healer: Ministry in contemporary society. Garden City, New York: Doubleday and Company, Inc.

Rowell, Ed. (nd).  “But do you love me?” From the book, The Pastor’s Soul Volume 3: Preaching With Spiritual Passion, published on the Christianity Today website [Online: http://www.ctlibrary.com/lebooks/thepastorssoul/soulpreaching/pstsoul3-9.html Accessed: 18 May 2010]

Author

David Hughes has served for more than a decade as senior pastor of First Baptist Church, Winston-Salem, N.C. He holds degrees from Wake Forest University, Princeton Theological Seminary and The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.