Sing Psalms, Let Joy Resound
Maybe We Could Put the Generator Under the Hood
A Public Service Announcement
How About Follow Up Questions?
On Keeping the Monuments
Jokes I Like to Tell
Once there was a Lutheran pastor who believed that sermons ought to be preached in a monotone, or as close to a monotone as it was possible for a human voice to approach. Not only did he believe this, having been taught it in seminary by a man who preached that way himself, it has to be said that this conviction lined up almost perfectly with his natural inclination and gifts. In other words, if preaching in a monotone actually were the ultimate homiletic desideratum, it would have to be confessed that he was really good at it.
His congregation didn’t exactly feel the same way, but they took things like this in stride, knowing that “this too shall pass.” Nevertheless, as time went on, the dull-as-dishwater messages started to get to even the most stoical, and considering that this congregation was in rural Minnesota, that was pretty stoical.
One Sunday morning, the minister ascended into the pulpit, read the text, and began his message. He was not usually tuned to how he sounded, which was part of the problem, but after a few minutes, even he noticed that something was off. He preached for another minute more, trying to figure it out.
Suddenly the lights came on and he stopped. He looked toward the back of the church where the sound booth was, caught the eye of the sound guy, tapped his lapel microphone, and said, “There’s something wrong with this mic.”
And without missing a beat, the entire congregation answered. “And also with you.”
Notice this important shift over at Merriam-Webster.