Good news for bad sermons

Early in my ministry I was given the opportunity to preach at a church in a neighboring state. This was going to be one of the first times I had ever been invited somewhere outside my home church to preach, and I was so excited. I was very aware that the invitation was due, in large part, to the pastor’s relationship with my dad. My dad had preached in this church several times, and when the pastor heard I had answered the call to full-time ministry he was gracious enough to extend the invitation for me to come preach. I knew I hadn’t necessarily “earned” the invitation, but I was sure going to prove that I “deserved” it.

I spent weeks praying and trying to decide what passage I was going to preach. I ultimately landed on Acts 16 and the story of Paul and Silas in jail. I had heard my dad preach that passage and tell that Bible story countless times. I was ready to paint a word picture that would have the people enraptured. By the time I got done with them they’d feel like they had been there singing “Because He Lives” alongside Paul and Silas in their jail cell. I studied, prayed, and prepared like my life depended on it. When the weekend finally arrived, I made the long drive to the church and showed up, Bible in hand, ready to preach.

When the congregational singing concluded I made my way to the pulpit and for the next 30 minutes I let it rip. The whole thing felt like a blur, but I made it through, and in my mind, I felt like it went pretty well. Not bad for a rookie! I walked down the platform steps and sat down next to the pastor. He leaned over towards me, and I was expecting a “good job!” He whispered, “It was Paul and Silas.” I looked at him blankly, unsure what point he was trying to make.

“Excuse me?”, I said.

“It was Paul and Silas.”, he repeated.

“Yes sir.”, I answered. I was starting to think he was losing it.

“That’s not what you said.”

I furrowed my brow and asked, “What did I say?”

“You said Paul and Barnabas.”

My first thought was, What a jerk move. I get done preaching, and you point out the one mistake I made?

“When did I say it?” was the only response I could muster.

What he said next hit me like a heavyweight punch to the gut.

“The whole time.”

Turns out I preached for 30 minutes about Paul and Barnabas in jail. I talked about Paul and Barnabas getting arrested, Paul and Barnabas singing, and Paul and Barnabas sharing the gospel with the Philippian jailer. Thirty. Minutes. And I didn’t mention Silas once.

I was devastated. I was sure that was the last time I’d ever get asked to preach anywhere. I had my one shot, and I blew it.

To be fair to the pastor, he did the right thing. I needed to know. He also took the time after to encourage me. He told me that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d make a mistake like that while preaching. (He was absolutely right about that one.) He also reminded me that God doesn’t require perfect sermons.

Laying an egg in the pulpit always stings. And if you take the responsibility of preaching seriously, which you should, you will fight feelings of guilt about confusing the congregation or muddling the message. But there is hope, even for the worst sermons. I mentioned earlier that I never said Silas’ name in my sermon, which is true. But I did say his name that night. At the beginning of my sermon I read the entire story, word for word, verse by verse, straight from my Bible. And even though the congregation had to navigate through my convoluted message, the Scriptures were clear as a bell.

Romans 10:17 doesn’t say, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by a perfect sermon.” By God’s grace, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.” Whether you’re preaching a sermon, teaching a Sunday school lesson, or doing family devotions, at some point you’re going to deliver a stinker. But if you’ll be faithful to the Word of God, I believe He will keep His promise in Isaiah 55:11, and His word “will not return void.”

The old saying goes, “God can draw a straight line with a crooked stick.” And I believe God can redeem a bad sermon, for His glory, and our good.