When you’re preaching, or giving any sort of speech, it’s sometimes a bit unclear to you whether you’re actually getting through or not. You can tell a less-then-optimal sermon by the rustling, the murmuring, sometimes even nodding heads. But the way you can tell if your message is being well-communicated is this: when you look around the church, there is no rustling, no murmuring, just people being silent and listening intently. That is the Bingo Moment. During the last few paragraphs of this sermon, I had a Bingo Moment, and afterwards I was complimented by some of the congregation. There is no more precious time for a preacher than to experience a Bingo Moment.
I was very lucky in another way today: the person reading the Jewish Scriptures picked up the wrong reading and read it through. Had I depended upon this reading for my sermon, I would have been a bit put out. I have seen other preachers in the same situation: they simply read the correct reading from the pulpit and ploughed on into the sermon. I’m glad I didn’t have to do that this morning.
November 8, 2009 Remembrance Sunday
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: II Samuel 1:17-27; Ps. 23; Revelation 21:1-7; Matthew 5:1-11
In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.
Let me tell you a slightly imaginary tale.
The person in the chair stood to greet me. He had a pleasant smile on his face, and said,