What I Learned After Almost Pretending to Faint Just to Get Out of Preaching
Bob Hyatt
May 27, 2019

I remember pretty vividly the morning when, as a 27 year old associate pastor getting ready to preach for the first time in my new church, I briefly contemplated pretending to faint.

Sitting in the front row of the church, I was feeling completely unprepared to speak the Gospel to a group of people I hardly knew, and to a larger crowd than I had ever spoken to before. Sure, I had dealt with nervousness before, but this was definitely a notch up from what I normally felt. Sick to my stomach, head in hands, I thought to myself “If I just fall over to the floor and don’t get up, what will they do? They can’t MAKE me preach… can they?”

Fortunately for everyone involved, that moment passed. I preached that morning and it was fine. Since then, I’ve felt twangs of stage fright occasionally, but thankfully, never to that extent. In fact, over the years, the nervousness has subsided, but it’s mostly what I’ve learned about preaching that has made me increasingly comfortable in the pulpit.

Here’s what I’ve realized.

First, preaching is a marathon, not a sprint . I think we overestimate what can happen to modern audiences in one morning, and completely underestimate what can happen in a community through years of faithful preaching. Ask a regular church goer what the best sermon they ever heard was. Now ask them for their second favorite. Then their third. This is about where things get fuzzy for most people, not because preaching doesn’t matter, but because it does its best work in the aggregate. It’s not what people hear on any given Sunday that is likely to change them, but what they hear in a year of Sundays that is likely to provide a catalyst for change.

For the individual preacher on a particular Sunday, that means focusing on the long game. Today is important, just not as important as we are likely to believe. Few people will remember what we preach today, but that doesn’t mean it’s not working- slowly but surely watering the seeds of change that the Holy Spirit is working in the lives of our hearers. This takes a lot of pressure off the time I spend in the pulpit, and puts it were it perhaps better belongs: planning, preparing and preaching. I now focus less on what I am going to say to my community this Sunday, and more on what I sense God wants us to say to the community this season, this year.

Second, I’ve realized it’s not about me. And if it seems like it’s becoming about me, I should change that. The real reason we become nervous is because we’ve become focused on ourselves. Our performance, our image, our job… We want to know we’re liked and are doing a good enough job that someone will keep paying us to do it. Fair enough.

But that’s not what preaching is about and we know it. We just need to remind ourselves that it’s not about us. Unfortunately, a generation of celebrity preachers- funny, charismatic, and engaging- have made us think that maybe it is about us, at least, a little bit. We love to listen to them. We want people to feel about us the way we and countless others feel about them, and hang on our words the way so many hang on theirs.

When I first realized this about myself, I knew I had to get off that particular hamster wheel of approval. I’m a decent preacher, but I’ll never be (fill in your favorite big name preacher here).

And neither will you . The vast majority of us are not called to speak before ever larger crowds, get book deals off our sermon series and get called on to speak at large conferences. We just aren’t. And the quicker we realize that, and let go of the fantasy version of our career trajectory, the quicker we’ll be able to get about being the man or woman God has called us to be in our own individual, mundane contexts, speaking to people who, though they number not in the thousands, still matter immensely to God. When I realize that this sermon I’m about to preach is more about Jesus and the people He loves than it is about what people think of me, about honing my skills, increasing my platform or anything other than cooperating with the Holy Spirit in moving the ball incrementally forward in the lives of the people sitting before me, the pressure falls away. And, if you’ll excuse the mixed metaphor, I don’t need to hit a home run every Sunday. Singles and doubles with the occasional triple are just fine. I just need to keep things moving. No pressure to knock it out of the park.

But even in that, I can feel some pressure, so it’s good that I realized it’s less about what I do or fail to do, and more about what the Spirit chooses to do.

November 26, 2024
“Food is just fuel for your body.” When the raw vegan enthusiast in my community said it I knew that wasn’t right. I thought of all the great meals shared with family and friends around tables for Thanksgivings, Christmas Eves, and Easter afternoons – among others. I recalled the verse: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” And I realized that if this was God’s vision for food, then he would have designed our bodies with built-in IV ports where we would hook up pouches of food to our sides and let it drip in slowly to our bloodstreams. And Jesus wouldn’t have given us the greatest experiential metaphor of communion around the table in fellowship with others if it was merely physical and transactional in nature. I get his point: what we put into our bodies matters. Food is for much more than just physical energy. It’s also about connection, bonding, and relationship. Storytelling and laughing and crying and interacting. Like former U.S. President Ronald Reagan said, all great change in America begins at the dinner table. But I’ll offer a rejoinder: all great change – no matter the country – begins at the dinner table. The U.S. Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, has declared loneliness as a public health crisis and an epidemic . 30 percent of adults say they feel lonely., with 10 percent reporting loneliness every day. 60 years ago the average dinner time was 90 minutes; today it’s less than 12. We are more connected to our devices and less connected to others. Almost twenty five years ago political scientist Robert Putnam wrote the popular book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community . Over the summer, the New York Times interviewed him , inquiring if he saw this crisis of loneliness coming. He stressed the idea of “social capital,” saying it comes in two forms: bonding and bridging. Bonding ties us to others like us and bridging ties us to people who are different from us. Meals together with others at tables have the transformative power to do both. They bond us to other people in our church; they bridge us to connect with others who aren’t yet connected to faith. As my next-door neighbor says when we’re trying to find a time to connect for a meal, “Everybody’s gotta eat.” Coffee tables, lunch tables, high top bar tables, card tables, dinner tables – all have the intent to bring us together with others over food and/or drink. It was Len Sweet who wrote in Tablet to Table that Jesus was killed for his table manner and his table company. Later he stated that the gospel message was Jesus eating good food with bad people. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find any gathering in the New Testament that didn’t involve some sort of table. And as Ian Simkins, lead pastor of teaching at The Bridge Church in Nashville, shared with me, the table is the centerpiece by which the gospel is expressed. The church has moved to prioritize the table by asking some key questions: What if we reclaimed the table? What if our tables weren’t for just feeding, but for forming? What if, at the table, foes became friends? What if, every time we sat down, we prayed, “at this table as it is in heaven”? What if we brought the gospel back to the table? These are the questions that must become front and center for the church in North America in the days ahead. In fact, you can view the church’s creative and compelling videos on Instagram here and here . Americans eat, on average, 21 meals a week. Think for a moment: how many meals did you share with others this week? How many meals did you eat alone this week? How many people did you share with those who weren’t your immediate family members? How many of those were with people who are not followers of Jesus? What if the greatest advancement of the gospel in the days ahead occurred not in our churches, but around tables?
By by J.R. Briggs September 25, 2024
I’ve been attending the ENG since 2008. It’s been convened in Maryland, Delaware, Florida, and Virginia – and even online during the pandemic. Pastors have asked me why I make ENG a priority and what I find so valuable. Here are 6 reasons why I never want to miss: [1] It’s Different from Other Church Leaders’ Events There are many great pastors’ events, but what initially drew me to the ENG was the feel of it. What I found so refreshing and valuable was the fact that it felt more like a family reunion than a conference or event. It’s not performative. Nobody is trying to impress one another or sell their next book coming out. Nobody is trying to measure their worth based on the size of their church or the reach of their ministry. There are no green rooms or fog machines. Nobody is treated as a celebrity. And most refreshingly, never once in all the years have I been asked, “So, how big is your church?” It’s a place where I can always be myself. [2] It’s Just the Right Size Many gatherings and conferences are large. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. Years ago I attended these large conferences put on by very well-known churches – and I gleaned some important insights and nuggets of wisdom, for which I am grateful. But in a post-pandemic digital age, most of those conferences offer a digital package where I can watch conveniently in my office or home when I want to. I’ve gleaned a lot from our ENG speakers, where I’ve taken copious notes. Most years, what I’ve gleaned most was off of the stage and during the informal spaces of connection and interaction. The Ecclesia National Gathering is large enough to pull together pastors and their teams for meaningful content, yet small enough to cultivate deep connections naturally among other attendees. [3] Reconnecting with Old Friends and Meeting New Ones Since I’ve been attending for so many years, and other pastors have as well, it becomes a great space to reconnect with friends. Hugs and high-fives and asking about each other’s families is common throughout the time. There are lengthy times at night over drinks, talking about how we’re doing, what we’re learning, and where we’re seeing God at work in our contexts. It’s a place where I feel extremely comfortable to share the joys and also the heartaches with other pastors, leaders, and friends. But this isn’t just for the insiders. I love seeing new pastors and leaders attending and introducing them to others. Through the years, many newcomers have told me how surprised they’ve been at how welcoming the event has felt, where they could easily and naturally jump in and connect with others without feeling the need to sound impressive – where they could just be themselves. [4] Engaging in Unique Conversations Pastor Mark Batterson has said, “Change of pace plus change of place equals change of perspective.” Large conferences can be beneficial and online events have added value to my life, leadership, and ministry. But nothing can replace the lingering conversations with a mixture of folks, oftentimes over a drink at night, where we end up discussing and exploring topics that are life-giving, enlightening, and informative. Many of these have changed my perspective, reminded me of what’s most important, and sparked new ideas and creative initiatives we’ve launched. But most significantly, during these spaces I am reminded of what’s most important – stories of life change, the power of the gospel, and the depth of meaningful relationships in ministry. And I realize that as great as email, social media, and even Zoom can be to connect me digitally with people across the miles, nothing can replace this life-giving interaction at these events. [5] The Schedule Is Balanced and “Breathable” Many conferences I have attended in the past pack the schedule from morning until night with great content and programming. But I have often left those events with my body and soul feeling exhausted and my brain like a bowl of oatmeal. What I appreciate about ENG is that the programming and schedule has “breathing room.” There’s not wasted time, but it operates at a pace and capacity that is doable for busy and tired pastors and leaders. [6] There are Surprises from the Spirit Every Time As great as the programming is – both the plenary sessions and breakouts – there are still things that are unplanned – and oftentimes they are the most meaningful. Because the schedule isn’t packed from early in the morning to late at night, the Spirit always moves. Because it’s breathable the Spirit often blows. Sometimes the Spirit shows up by way of a soft and gentle reminder from a speaker. Other times, it is a clear word from the Lord during worship. And still other times it is in the form of a much-needed word of encouragement from a friend during conversation who was prompted to share something with me or pray something over me. The ENG isn’t just another pastors’ event – it’s where leaders connect, learn, and have space to be refreshed and be themselves in an authentic and meaningful space. If you haven’t attended yet, come and experience it for yourself.
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