Of Martin Luther King’s famous
speech I have a dream, Gary Younge
says that ‘like all great oratory its brilliance was in its simplicity. Like
all great speeches it understood its audience. And like all great performances
it owed as much to delivery as content’.
Simplicity, understanding one’s
congregation, delivery … in applying these criteria to Christian preaching we
might be inclined to dismiss the idea that the last has any relevance. To think
of preaching as a performance is surely to introduce a misleading analogy for
what is involved? But we should not dismiss it simply out of hand. Certainly
simplicity is something to be sought after in any speaking or teaching, and the
same is true for preaching. Understanding one’s listeners is crucial if there
is to be any true communication. And we need to come back to what is involved
in ‘delivery’.
The ‘preaching moment’ may be
understood to refer not just to the giving of a homily during a liturgy but to
any of the situations where Christians engage in what is one of their
characteristic activities, preaching the Word to people. But the preaching of
the homily at a liturgy has a kind of archetypal significance for thinking
about preaching in other situations.
There are then three parts to
what I am calling the preaching moment, what is said (simplicity), who it is
being said to (understanding one’s audience) and who is saying it (delivery).
We must attend to each one in thinking about what that moment involves and it
will be a constant concern for us that we become ever more effective in each of
these ways. Each one demands on-going study, reflection and care.
Reviewing a book recently that
had the term discourse in its title
and in the titles of most of its chapters led me to reflect on how trendy
words, or buzz words, become increasingly empty of meaning the more they are
used. The book made no attempt to explain why this word was used and only two
of the contributors even acknowledged that it required explanation. Discourse
too, whatever it means precisely, clearly it requires content, a speaker and a
listener.
We will of course want our
teaching or preaching to have content. We want it to be theological and
prophetic as our brother Carlos [Aspiroz, Master of the Order] says in his 2002
letter to the Order on preaching. The Master says our preaching should be
theological, compassionate, inculturated and incarnated, prophetic, undertaken
in poverty, itinerant, communitarian, and shared (by which he means undertaken
in collaboration with other members of the Dominican Family). Brother Carlos has
written few letters to the Order in his time as Master, taking the view, it
seems, that we have enough to be getting on with: one of the first things he
did was arrange for the re-publication of letters to the Order from his four
predecessors. It is all the more striking that he has given us a letter on
preaching, then. Following Paul VI’s exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi evangelisation was named as one of the four
priorities of the Order (by the General Chapter of Quezon City, 1977). We can
take it that preaching and evangelisation always have been, and always will be,
priorities for Dominicans.
We can take this lesson at least
from thinking of preaching as a performance – the preaching (or teaching or other
speaking) is not the text on the page even if we use a text, the preaching is
the act of communication itself, a human being speaking to other human beings
about important matters, a human being speaking to other human beings in words
through which (they believe) the Word of God is spoken and heard, a Word made
flesh again through the human act of communication that preaching is.
So the training of young
preachers will be concerned with practical and technical matters like voice
production, a good public address system, knowing how to use microphones,
maintain eye contact, and all that. There is still some point in giving a
theologically rich discourse even if nobody is listening – John Chrysostom says
somewhere that preaching simply has to continue even if nobody is listening,
just as the liturgy has to be celebrated even if nobody is present apart from
the clergy – but there is clearly a qualitatively different point to giving a
theologically rich talk which people can hear, understand and gain from.
Most of the trainee preacher’s
time might seem to be focused on content. They study the Bible and theology in
order to have something worthwhile to say when the time comes. But the other
two parts of the preaching moment need study and attention also during the
years of formation: who is speaking and to whom are they speaking.
Martin Luther King understood his
audience. The preacher has to do the same, get to know the people to whom they
are to speak. They must be conversant with them, know what is going on in their
lives, and speak their language. What does it mean, to ‘speak their language’?
One of the early Dominican general chapters (Paris, 1236) encouraged the
brethren to ‘learn the language of the people nearby’, the language of their
neighbours. In a superficial sense it means preaching in a language shared with
the people to whom one is speaking in order to be understood. But it has a
deeper significance also – it means being aware of what their lives are like,
knowing their preoccupations, being familiar with their anxieties,
understanding their questions. If the preacher shares those preoccupations and
questions, so much the better.
The supreme example for the
Christian preacher, in this as in everything else, is Jesus. Thomas Aquinas
paints a portrait of Jesus as a mendicant preacher, sharing people’s lives so
as to be able to speak the truth to them (Summa
theologiae III 40; III 42 also for Christ’s teaching?).
It is about what Aquinas calls Christ’s ‘conversation among human beings’, an
older use of the term conversation, his intercourse with them, his being among
them and being in relationship with them with a view to teaching them. Nowadays we would probably call it his
lifestyle or his form of life. Aquinas’s main point is that Jesus lived as he
did because his mission was to speak God’s truth to people. To be a preacher of
the Word of God demands a particular lifestyle to support it, a form of life to
sustain it. This is what I want to invite you to reflect upon, that if we are
to do well the task of preaching that is ours in the Church then it is not just
a question of having something to say and having techniques for saying it, it
is also about a way of living and a spirituality that establishes us in a
certain relationship with God and with people.
A recent discussion among
Dominicans about preaching strategy revealed what seemed like very different
views about how the preaching moment should be understood. One side of the
argument stressed simply the preaching of Christ, of truth, of the Word whereas
the other side of the argument believed the first thing to be thought about was
the ones who are being addressed, who they are and where they are at. One side
thought in terms of bringing the gospel to people, giving them something they
do not already have, the other in terms of uncovering the gospel for people,
illuminating what they already have. (I was not directly involved in this
argument which happened at the general chapter of Krakow: each side will
probably feel I am not doing justice to its concerns!)
It seems clear that there ought
not be any need to choose between these and that the argument is about emphasis
only. Reflection on what is involved in the preaching moment makes it clear
very quickly that both elements need to be kept in mind, what is to be said and
who is being addressed. This is precisely what the craft of preaching is about,
to speak the Word to these people. If it is not the Word but simply something
people know well enough already then the Christian preachers are not doing
their job. If it is the Word (exegetically literate and theologically sound)
but presented in such a way that it fails to connect with people’s hearts and
minds, then they are not doing their job.
This is where the third part of
the preaching moment comes in. One part is content, the Word that is preached.
Another is the listener, speaking to them that they may share the joy of the
gospel. And the third part is the speaker, the preachers themselves, the one
who is speaking. Each part must be acknowledged, understood and constantly
studied, not just what is to be said, not just its reaching a particular
congregation, but the channel through which this communication is to take place
and what that channel needs to be in order to be good at what it is for.
The preacher too needs to be ‘in
the preaching’. This is not to recommend a kind of egocentric introspection and
self-consciousness on the part of preachers. Nor am I suggesting that the
preacher’s problems are everybody’s problems: a preaching that is too personal
can quickly become mawkish and embarrassing. But what seems to be true is that
the best preachers are the ones who are clearly speaking in the first place
also to themselves, who have brought their own questions and anxieties to the
Word of God, have allowed the Word to illuminate and judge those questions and
anxieties, who do not regard the listeners as ‘them’ but regard both themselves
and their listeners as constituting a ‘we’.
If we are to learn the language
of the neighbours then the neighbour nearest to us is oneself. The strange
thing is that if people listen compassionately, patiently and honestly to their
own hearts, and are courageous in acknowledging the demands the truth makes on
themselves, they will find themselves speaking very directly to others also.
The preacher is an effective bearer of the Word to the extent that he or she
has allowed that Word – cutting more finely than any double-edged sword – to
reach between bone and marrow in himself or herself. In this the art to which
preaching is closest is poetry: the labour of trying to find exactly the right
words.
We live always, of course, within
the paschal mystery of Christ. By our baptism the pattern of his death and
resurrection has become the pattern of our lives and of all our experience.
That mystery entails limit and transcendence, a breaking out (of Egypt) and a
breaking through (into a promised land) and so all our words and actions reach
a strange fulfilment in being ‘broken’: the disciples recognised him in the
breaking of the bread, theology is closest to its goal at the point at which it
has nothing left to say, when preaching breaks down (as did Paul’s on the
Areopagus and the preaching of Jesus in John 6) then something of the deeper
truth is being glimpsed – cutting across our words, cutting across our actions,
and yet confirming them to be bearers of his life, fruitful in their breaking.
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