Seminar Summary
In July 2005, Calvin Seminary President Neal Plantinga hosted a three-week program as part of Calvin College's larger "Summer Seminars in Christian Scholarship" directed by Dr. James K.A. Smith. This was the third time Dr. Plantinga hosted the "Imaginative Reading for Creative Preaching" seminar, which this year included fifteen participants from five different denominations. For the first two weeks the seminar was co-led by Dr. Hulitt Gloer, Professor of Preaching and Christian Scriptures at Baylor University in Waco, Texas, with Rev. Scott Hoezee co-leading the final week. All three weeks featured also the able assistance and good insights of Executive Administrative Associate Mary Brasser. Seminar participant Joel Kok wrote up the following reflections, which we offer to encourage all preachers to build a program of reading for preaching as well as an encouragement to consider applying for future offerings of this seminar.
Permission to Clean the Pasture Spring
Reflections on "Imaginative Reading for Creative Preaching"
By Joel Edward Kok, Pastor at Trinity Christian Reformed Church in Broomall, PA
When Professor of Preaching Hulitt Gloer woke up on November 21, 2004, he found he could not raise his right arm. A little later, walking back to his car after church, his right leg buckled. Soon after that he learned that he had suffered a stroke. As Hulitt related this incident to the participants in our summer 2005 preaching seminar, both the physical and emotional traumas from that day were evident. Hulitt's courage and determination were even more evident.
What language can preachers borrow to speak effectively to people who have undergone such experiences? Hulitt pointed us to the poet, Jane Kenyon, and in particular to her poem, "Otherwise." In this poem, Kenyon narrates an "ordinary" day with such luminous eloquence that the blessings of the Creator shine through the simplest words and deeds. Kenyon portrays the beauty of such everyday activities as rising from bed, working at a craft, and sitting at a table illuminated by candlesticks. She lulls her readers into expecting other good days just like it. But then she concludes with a few poignant words that imply both grief and hope: "But one day, I know, it will be otherwise."
The fifteen pastors and several leaders of the seminar discussed poems, novels, memoirs, journalism, and other genres of literature-all with an eye to preaching. We asked whether some passages could be quoted directly in sermons or whether they were too complex to be received by hearing. We practiced training our eyes to see the truth even when it appeared to us at a slant. In the company of skilled writers, we felt called to sharpen our own language tools. We learned how to harness computer technology to build topical files; we reflected on the noble simplicity of good children's literature. We considered how to craft sermons that appeal to what Jonathan Edwards called "the religious affections."
Beyond such specific benefits for our sermons, we found the seminar enriching not only as preachers but also simply as human beings. In The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck stretched our capacity for both compassion and indignation. Comparing novels about religion by Ron Hansen and Mark Salzman provoked us to explore the trustworthiness of ecstatic experiences. Barack Obama gave us insights into the ways race can or cannot dictate identities and relationships. Anne LaMott provoked us to meet people in a "Jesusy" way. Marilynne Robinson inspired us to militate against cynicism by seeing the beauty in human souls. We learned, as Professor Neal Plantinga put it, that good literature gives us "more to be a Christian with."
As we learned, we enjoyed ourselves immensely. The seminar lasted for three weeks, and this gave us, as the seminar organizers intended, a feeling of having a mini-sabbatical. We read many pages of sometimes challenging material, so the exercise did not encourage laziness. But the format and the atmosphere made the sessions both stimulating and relaxing at the same time. To paraphrase our Lord's teaching on the Sabbath, we learned during this sabbatical that: The seminar was made for preachers not preachers for the seminar. We departed replenished and renewed.
Interestingly, the joy of the seminar was so prevalent that even the non-Calvinists among us began to feel vaguely guilty. Perhaps without putting it into so many words, we wondered: Should servants of the Lord really be having such a good time? Checking our e-mail, we asked: How can my congregation survive if I'm gone three Sundays in a row? Shouldn't I be implementing some plan to revitalize our ministry to Generation Z?
By the end of our time together, participants agreed that the seminar had given us permission to put such questions in the proper place and to do the kind of reading and reflecting that had led many of us into the pastorate in the first place. We believed we could return to our pulpits not only with fresh material for sermons but also with fresh enthusiasm for the Christian life. We felt confident that the grace and joy we experienced in our mini-sabbatical would prove infectious to our congregations and beyond.
The notion of sensing permission to do serious but enjoyable reading is worth pondering by both preachers and their Councils or governing boards. I believe many pastors feel weary and heavy laden by the pressures of our job, but I wonder if we often over burden ourselves in a way that leads to this grace-deprived condition. I believe most congregational leaders would sympathize enthusiastically with the need their preachers have for times of reading and reflection. I believe, in other words, that most congregations would encourage their pastors to participate either in this seminar or some exercise like it. One book and one poem we read in the seminar offer insights into this matter.
The book is Remembering Denny, by Calvin Trillin. In it, Trillin meditates on the sad end of a friend of his named Roger "Denny" Hansen, who, during his college days, seemed to be one of the most promising leaders of his generation, but who wound up committing suicide at the age of fifty-five. "Trillin does not claim to understand why his friend ended his own life, but as he explores various possibilities, he pays special attention to what could be called "the god of Success." By almost anyone's standards, Denny Hansen lived a highly accomplished life. But Trillin wonders if Hansen's youthful promise led him to set such high standards for success that he could never live up to them.
As seminar participants discussed this book, we could hardly help but reflect on the extent to which "the god of Success" tempts us in our work of ministry. Could this idolatry be the source for much of our exhausting activism? Almost certainly it is. Many pastors suffer from what a friend of mine calls "justification by ministry." Such idolatry and such a false gospel make ministers feel too busy to do significant reading. They make ministry a joyless burden. They also promote miserable sermons.
To fight this idolatrous, graceless activism and its accompanying false gospel, preachers do well to heed the invitation Robert Frost extends in his poem, The Pasture. In the first line of this poem, the narrator announces, "I'm going out to clean the pasture spring." Hulitt Gloer explained to us that this spring cleaning is an essential task for the farmer. Unless the farmer tends to the spring, the entire pasture will wither and die.
The application to preaching is clear. As Hulitt reminded us: Unless we clear our minds of clutter, we dam up the sources of God's grace and lose touch with the things of God. We wind up preaching the bad news of self-salvation, which members of our congregation hear all the time. Both pastors and their congregations need preachers to make time for wonder, mystery, and life-giving renewal. One important way to do this is to engage in the kind of reading we enjoyed in our seminar. Preachers and congregations can accept gladly Frost's invitation to clean the pasture springs. We can say, "Yes" to the poet's final line: "I shan't be gone long-You come too."