... How does he sound?

Dreadful!

(OK it should be a dog with no nose who smells dreadful, and yes, it is is sexist to have a male preacher, but...)

Glen has posted a set of Ten Commandments for preachers, which are thought provoking and, on the whole, I'd agree with.  Except No 6 "Use as few notes as possible" - unless I interpet that in the light of No 4 "be yourself," in which case my usual 'full script' is as few as possible whilst being true to myself.

Having mulled this over a little, here are my thoughts on notes, and a few commandments I'd suggest.

The best sermons I've heard have been from people who use pretty comprehensive notes.  Whilst the all time worst was scripted -and followed all the guidelines I'd ever heard for preparation - on the whole the worse sermons are those delivered with few or no notes.  I don't think this is about the rights and wrongs of notes per se, I think it is probably about some underlying issues on preparation.

In my experience, more women preachers use full scripts and more men use few or no notes (and, yes, it can look like machismo sometimes) and/or powerpoint bullet points.  Maybe there is a gendered thing going on here, reluctant though I am to suggest it.  Having said that, most of my top 5 preachers are men and they all use notes.

I'm not saying Glen's list is wrong, just that I think the 'strive for no notes' as being somehow better or superior is unhelpful.

In terms of commandments I'd say

1. Read the text(s).  Sounds obvious, but REALLY read them.  If you're clever, in the orginal langauges, if you're like me in a couple of translations, including (if you have control) the one that will be read from in church.  Too often I think I know the texts until I read them afresh.
2. Jot down what the text "says" to you before you read commentaries or outlines in Light or Roots - but do read them.  I never cease to be amazed how my response and the different things I read complement and extend each other.
3. Record your thoughts in the way that works for you - there isn't a right or wrong, but most of us are fallible enough to forget things if we don't record them.
4. Preach the sermon you need to hear - well that's what someone told me years ago anyway!  I think it means, don't think 'hmm, Mrs so-and-so should hear this...' (odds on, she won't be here this week!) but at the same time do think who the congregation is and whether or not your sermon has any relevance to them.
5. Don't be afraid to abandon it all and just speak, if that's what feels appropriate.  A handful of times in the ten years or so I've been preaching, I have stood at the front and realised what I have prepare just isn't the right thing to say - but, because I've done the work and recorded my thoughts, they are better anchored in my mind, equipping me to 'follow the Spirit's lead'

Not ten - not exhaustive - but what I find helpful.  I now have two non-preahcing weeks, which feels a bit odd, soIshallbe watching what other people do with interest.

That old perennial topic of hymns and songs is once again prompting thought, so here are two examples of worst Baptist hymnody I know of, written by the guy who fought the corner for singing in Baptist churches in the seventeenth century - next time someone comes up with something awful, remember these gems...!

Our wounds do stink and are corrupt,
Hard swellings do we see;
We want a little ointment, Lord,
Let us more humble be.

 

Repentance like a bucket is,
To pump the water out;
For leaky is our ship, alas,
Which makes us look about.

 

Both by Benjamin Keach.

Whilst reading something elsewhere today, I was reminded of the old, rather cunning, argument about behaviour when praying...

A young priest was troubled and approached his bishop with a question, "is it alright to drink tea when I'm praying?'

The bishop thought carefully for a moment or two, "I'm not sure,' he said, 'bit it is certainly alright to pray whilst you're drinking tea..."

Cunning!  But also has a deeper ring of truth, methinks.  What knots we tie ourselves in and end up missing the point.

Often we worry about allowing people who are not church members or not yet believers to take on roles in the church - from financial administration to singing in a worship group 'up front.'  Is it perhaps the case that its OK to explore faith whilst doing?  I know it isn't a direct parallel - but I also recall some bloke infirst century Palestinse saying that "whover is not against us is for us." (Yes, I know another gospel puts it another way...)  What do you think?

This one is for the Graham's, Rob's and Tim's of this world...

We finally got a church laptop (loud fanfare) and we have installed Open Office on it (selective cheering).  Now I have spent a jolly couple of hours redoing animations on a presentation I imported from PowerPoint and the hyperlinks don't seem to work in the same way... bother! 

At present, I hyperlink from my main presentation to the notices (which scroll away merrily) in Powerpoint.  This means the the software opens the file in slideshow mode and runs it until I hit 'Esc' at which point it closes it and reverts to the original slideshow.  All very simple, easy to manage and does the job in a way that looks nice and tidy.  Having worked out how to edit my hyperlink in Open Office, I discover that the best I can do seems to be to open the file as if for editting - not what I want.

I'd like to be convinced Open Office is the way to go, and I'm sure it is possible to sort this out, even if it demonstrates at the first hurdle that compatibility is far from 1:1.  So, over to you clever techy folk...

This week I've read a couple of posts where people are thinking about how much or little people, especially post modern people, whatever that means, feel any sense of allegiance to connectedness to historic denominations.  As I've read, commented (rather ham fistedly) and reflected, I think there is something subtle here that I am missing.

My own Christian experience has been strongly influenced by 'small c' congregationalism - i.e. local authority and autonomy but with come sort of associationalism or connexionalism.  I only discovered this when I was in membership of a church that didn't operate on a congregtional model.  Realising that this mattered to me, meant that the roots of this movement in the East Midlands/East Anglia area where I grew up became important to me.  People were willing to be arrested, imprisoned, fined or executed for their right to practice this approach to Christianity - so it mattered to me that their tradition was honoured.

But how much is this a reflection of my own personality and interests?  I have always loved history and felt it held the key to avoiding the endless reptition of errors that humans make (OK, I was an odd child, thinking about deep questions when anyone else was playing with Barbies or Action Men).  I am also, apparently, by personality type, loyal - once I sign up with something it is difficult for me to abandon it - as well as a whole load of other rather serious attributes.  So maybe who I am means that denominations and their histories are inherently more attractive to me than to others?

There are lots of people who recongise the value of, say, congregational governance  believer (NOT, NOT, NOT adult!) baptism, liturgy, sacred dance, two or seven sacraments, or whatever, but have no similar sense of allegiance to, or fascination with, the traditions from which they emerged.  That isn't wrong, but it is different.  Subtley maybe, but none the less relevant, perhaps especially in thinking about the potential longer term survival of these funny things called denominations.  Whilst I think that Christianity >> Church >>> denominations, I also think that denominations have an inherent worth in preventing the "big C" Church sliding into a monochrome extreme.  Perhaps denominations are a necessary heresy?!

One thing that intrigues me, though I know little about it and have scant evidence to make any claims, is that the same poeple who feel little or no denominational allegiance feel strong allegiance to football teams or nations.  Whilst loyalty to Tottenham Hotspur over Arsenal is entirely laudible (Oops, that's a fail in my doctorate then), I don't readily see how someone can feel loyal to a football team, and interested in the scores of matches no one remembers, but not to the faith tradition that has nurtured them.  I think I'm missing something subtle and important somewhere.  Maybe someone clever can help me out here...?