For donkey's years it's annoyed me: the assertion by those who preach without notes that this intrinsically better, that this is the epitome of competence to which everyone should aspire. And it hasn't stopped annoying me just because, recently, I've discovered that actually I'm not too bad at it. My experience is that the very worst sermons I've ever heard have been delivered without notes and the very best, most memorable ones, have involved a full script read verbatim.
Sometimes we have to be very careful not to confuse style with content, or delivery with ability.
I've always written a full script, I always have a full script on the lectern... well unless, in the early days, I was doing a 'proper all age' service where I simply had a set of headings I wanted to be sure we engaged with interactively. I think, whatever a preacher's preferred style, a full script, however rough and ready, is important, allowing them to articulate their ideas at least once before they are delivered. Until four years ago when chemo-brain robbed me of short term memory, I never read my sermons, rather I glanced at each paragraph and talked about what it said. For over a year after chemotherapy I scripted every last word and read every last word... any attempts to extemporsie ended in embarrassing failure to find the words! Only now am I finding the confidence to be less script-reliant. To use a full script is NOT NOT NOT (see I'm being shouty now!) a sign of incompetence, inexperience or insecurity, it is about knowing what works for you. Different is not better. Different is not worse. Different is just different.
Over the summer I experimented with a more story-telling kind of preaching, without notes and without standing behind anything. Since then, I've found the confidence to do so more often, and for longer, albeit not for a 'traditional sermon' (or as traditional as mine ever are.). People have said it's better... maybe it is, but I don't think it's because I don't use notes, I think there's something else going on here.
In the summer I deliberately pushed the commiunion table back against the wall, removing a physical barrier between myself and the rest of the congregation. Stepping out from behind the lectern did the same. It allowed me to embody what I claim - that ministers are 'among' not 'above' the congregation. Pulpits and lecterns have good, practical purposes - visibility, audibility and, basically, somewhere to put your notes. But they also create a barrier - both ways.
Ministers six feet above contradiction, safely protected by polished wood. Preachers with books (or tablet computers nowadays) perched on perspex lecterns where we can see, shock horror, just how many pages long the sermon actually is! We are physically expressing that this person is separate, is not one of us, is (as I've been told now and then) closer to God than we mere mortals (really? have you seen inside my head?), is over and above us and, no matter what they say; we politely listen, or not (did you know there are at least three kinds of closed-eyes expressions to be seen in the average congregation?)
Ministers six feet away, safely caged in a wooden box. Preachers trapped behind perspex lecterns, stone altars or any other barrier we can think of to keep them in their place. And, if layout permits, we'll elave at least ten pews/rows empty between us and the front because heaven forbid we get too close! I exagerate... a little.
Stepping out from the behind the barrier, escaping from the cage, whichever it is/was (and the answer is both plus others) is risky for everyone. The unspoken boundaries are breached, there is nowhere to hide for preacher or hearer, the security of something to hold on to or to thump (if you're that kind of preacher) is gone. The notes have either to be held in your hand, glanced at from the side, or left behind. It isn't just that the delivery is different, the whole dynamic changes.
I still maintain that the very best, most memorable sermons I've heard were all fully scripted.
I still maintain that the worst sermons I've heard were unscripted by preachers who wandered around the platform and waffled.
I still maintain that sometimes we confuse style with substance.
But maybe, afterall, what I've learned, or perhaps if I'm honest relearned after fifteen years trapped behind lecterns speaking to adults, is that I can do the scriptless stuff, and more importantly that when we remove the phyiscal barriers that create an artificial distinction what we get is more real for everyone.
No notes? There'll always be notes!
No notes? Sometimes it will be right simply to speak (I do NOT learn my sermons!!)
No notes? Well, yes, now and then, it is possible, preferrable and even valuable to speak 'off the cuff' trusting that in my blagging God is speaking.