Cutting to the Heart: Applying The Bible In Teaching And Preaching

By Chris Green

Chris Green asks what God intends to do through his inspired, life-transforming Word. He considers the Bible's relevance, how the Bible applies the Bible, and how it addresses hearts, engages our attention and applies to different kinds of people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: IVP
• Release date: Jun 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781783592951

Chris Green

Chris Green is vice principal at Oak Hill Theological College in London. He has worked in three churches in the London area and taught frequently at the Cornhill Training Course and he contributes to Oak Hill's biblical studies programm. He has published commentaries on 2 Peter, Jude and 2 Timothy and edited a book on preaching. Chris is married with two sons and enjoys music, reading and watercolor painting.

Book preview

PREFACE

To be invited to give the annual Moore College Lectures is a daunting honour. These public lectures, inaugurated in 1977 by F. F. Bruce’s series on biblical theology and later published as The Time Is Fulfilled,

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have produced a stream of significant contributions, including at least two books on preaching: Klaas Runia’s The Sermon Under Attack,

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and Peter Adam’s Speaking God’s Words.

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Runia’s and Adam’s books reflect on and feed into the enormous range of contemporary literature on preaching, from the dauntingly complex issues of hermeneutics, through careful exegetical practice, to current debates about communication and style.

But I accepted the invitation to lecture about preaching because in that range there is still only a handful of books on the issue of application; and if we ask what God intends to do through his inspired Word, the comparative gap on the shelves becomes rather obvious and embarrassing. My goal is to place something at that point in the preacher’s study, and to encourage the discussion further. As I hope to show, the issues that application touches range both deeply and widely, and will need many more conversation partners. I have deliberately kept the focus on personal and corporate application to Christians; the questions of application to wider society or to those who are not Christians (other than in evangelism) are significant in themselves, but are distinguishable from how God changes his people to become like his Son. Similarly, I have not explored issues of pastoral counselling, although a number of books I refer to have that issue at the forefront and it is a directly related issue.

I was also keen that the format of the lectures did not turn into a forbidding book that would not help the normal preacher preparing normal sermons in a normal church. So I have split the lectures into short chapters, given the ideas more room to breathe, put in material I did not cover in Sydney and included a number of diagrams. These are tools I use myself whenever I prepare a sermon, and I hope others find them useful. I have also included discussion questions at the end of each chapter, because many churches have small teams of preachers, and these issues are helpful to work through together.

So I am enormously grateful to the faculty, students and graduates of Moore College who listened to and engaged with this material, and showed me such warmth and hospitality. I am particularly grateful to the then principal, Dr John Woodhouse, both for extending the invitation and for being such a kind and warm host, together with his wife, Moya.

Much of this material has been developed over the years at Oak Hill Theological College in London, and I am also grateful to its principal, Dr Michael Ovey, for giving me the permission to use the material, and encouragement to accept the invitation, and then to bring it to this point. Now I have moved back into a regular preaching ministry, I am thankful to the members of St James, Muswell Hill, for their continued encouragement and support as we learn from God’s Word together.

My wife and children put up with extended absences from me, and managed not to be too obviously envious of my trip to Australia; it is a privilege to know their love and support in ministry.

But opening God’s Word before his people is an even more daunting honour than flying in to give some lectures, and it is one that many of us know well and could easily become familiar with. My prayer as a preacher is almost always the same: ‘Lord, would you open your Word to our hearts, and open our hearts to your Word. Amen.’

Chris Green

Sydney 2012, London 2014

1. THE BLUNT SWORD

The words of the wise are like cattle prods...

(Eccl. 12:11)

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Summer

It was a humid summer’s evening at the end of a long summer’s day, and the people had come to church. They fanned themselves cool with their notice sheets, stood a little further apart than usual when they sang, and tried, unobtrusively, to separate themselves from their sticky clothing. They dozed.

I cannot remember what passage I preached on that night, but the details are still painfully clear to me. Because halfway through the sermon my mind’s eye saw a little banner scroll across the bottom of my eyesight, and like the breaking news element on a website it told me quite clearly, ‘This is very boring.’

I could see it in their faces. I could feel it in my head. I can still see the page of my notes in my mind’s eye to this day, because although I cannot remember what I was preaching on I do know I was midway through an illustration about a Russian tsar of which I was very proud. But just as I remember seeing the newsflash, so too I remember going home and vowing that never ever would I allow myself to preach like that again. I have failed on many occasions, of course, but that experience has burned into me my dreadful responsibility for preaching the worst sermon I have ever heard.

What had gone wrong? Theologically, it is hard to say. ‘The word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword’ (Heb. 4:12), and God was no doubt waiting to wield it that evening among his people. The church was one with a long history of faithful Bible teaching, and the members were keen and well taught. I had spent my time in my study, reading, thinking and praying, and I had written it carefully. I know that because it is what I always did. That raises the rather discouraging thought that maybe I was equally as bad on every other occasion as well.

Somehow or other I had got in the way. God’s Word is sharp, but I seemed to be making it blunt. It is fresh, but I was making it stale. It is living, but I was stifling it, and that was stifling God’s people and me. It is designed to do deep soul-work and move lives, but I could not find the necessary leverage.

Self portrait

In the intervening years I have read almost any book about preaching I have laid hands on, from short pamphlets to multivolume dictionaries. The churches I have worked in have experienced each bend on the road of my journey, as I have tried to improve on the issue of helping them feed on God’s Word. And I have discovered a tension.

The textbooks, whether by practising preachers or seminary professors, focus on the critical task of understanding the passage. They rightly insist, over and again, that our task is to bury ourselves in the text and then bring out its treasures.

However, the people who listen to sermons by those same preachers not only comment on the clarity and accuracy of those sermons, but even more on their relevance, timeliness and helpfulness. It’s almost as though the daily round of being a pastor feeds into the sermon process and – without the preacher consciously realizing it – feeds into the sermon.

Curiously, the preachers claimed that they gave themselves to understanding the passage, but the listeners experienced that the preachers had given themselves to application.

That would not be a problem if we could assume that any preacher can reliably (if unconsciously) do the work of application. But as I have moved into teaching young preachers, I have noticed that they do not find this assumption helpful. They find many resources on the conscious, text-based work, but very few on the unconscious applicatory ‘hunch’. And so they easily assume that only the conscious, written-about work is important. I noticed that it wasn’t just their pastoral inexperience that made them dry and unapplied – they actually had an assumption that being dry and unapplied was what they were supposed to be doing.

My journey had led me to a different conclusion. The preachers I admired most were obviously drawing on their pastoral experience, and showing how the Bible helped make disciples. So I needed to find out more about how the Bible says that people are to change to become more Christlike. I needed to go back to the Bible, and discover what the Bible says about what the Bible is for.

What’s more, in order to teach my students I not only had to be able to teach them how to handle the text, but also how to apply it, which meant that the process that had become unconscious for me I now had to make explicit so that they could see what I was trying to do. I had to make the task of application one that could be learned. And I found an unexpected helper deep in the Old Testament.

The preacher’s self-portrait

There are only two Bible writers I am aware of who consciously reflect on why – and how – they wrote their parts of Scripture. One is Luke, who at the start of his Gospel (Luke 1:1–4), and more briefly in Acts (Acts 1:1), describes his research and writing style. It is useful material and, at a time when there is much assumed cynicism about the historical reliability of the biblical material, is important for us. Evangelists and apologists need Luke.

Less well known, though, is the writer of the book of Ecclesiastes. He is an enigmatic figure, whom various Bible translations call ‘the Preacher’ or ‘the Teacher’, and in the book he describes how he conducted a thought experiment. He examined the whole of life ‘under the sun’, as he calls it, and found it ‘meaningless’ or ‘empty’ (1:2). It is probably that verse that prompted Paul to write that the whole of creation is subject to ‘frustration’ until the return of Christ (the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament, and Rom. 8:20 use the same word).

Towards the end of his book the Teacher repeats his refrain that life is ‘meaningless’ (Eccl. 12:8), but then describes how he conducted his experiment. This passage was a turning point for me because it shows how a master teacher aimed to teach:

Not only was the Teacher wise, but also he imparted knowledge to the people. He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs. The Teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true.

The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails – given by one shepherd. Be warned, my son, of anything in addition to them.

Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body. (Eccl. 12:9–12)

That conveys a sequence of activity. I am not claiming that this is the mandatory pattern for preachers, but it is worth watching carefully as a wise and Spirit-inspired master communicator thinks about his craft, and teaches us how he did it. The Teacher is unusual in being both a great communicator, and able to explain how he works, and so of all the books you have read and conferences you have attended this is the best teaching on preaching you could ever sign up for. Of course he is writing Scripture, so he has a level of certainty that belongs only to the biblical authors. He is inspired in a way no preacher today can claim. Nevertheless, he has a method, and it is that, rather than the claim to divine inspiration, that I suggest we follow step by step.

1. Wisdom: the process begins with the phrase ‘Not only was the Teacher wise’. The first requirement is wisdom.

Ecclesiastes is, of course, an example of what is called ‘wisdom literature’, a class of writings marked by proverbs, catchy sayings and a quest for the meaning of life. But this is not another way of saying ‘common sense’. Biblically, wisdom was associated in particular with God’s gift to Solomon in 1 Kings 3, and it means something like ‘thinking about life properly, given that God is on the throne’. As Solomon himself put it, ‘The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom’ (Prov. 9:10). So although the Teacher did not have the equivalent of a seminary degree, he knew God, so he was ‘wise’, and that was his firm foundation. Knowing God and being wise are effectively the same thing.

But even though Ecclesiastes is in the Bible, we cannot just raid the Old Testament teachers of wisdom for practical tips on how to live life. The Bible has a plot, and God’s gift of wisdom reached its highest trajectory in the person and work of Jesus. The theme of wisdom points to him directly, because Jesus himself said that ‘The Queen of the South will rise at the judgment with the people of this generation and condemn them, for she came from the ends of the earth to listen to Solomon’s wisdom; and now something greater than Solomon is here’ (Luke 11:31).

And wisdom also points to Jesus’ work, as Paul wrote:

Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling-block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength. (1 Cor. 1:22–25)

The centrality to the Bible of the theme of wisdom, and the way Jesus underlines it about himself, means we are in an even more privileged position than the Teacher, because we know about the cross. The cross is the demonstration of God’s wisdom, its highest peak; the Bible is the explanation of God’s wisdom, its widest extent.

So our quest to understand God’s wisdom will take us across the extent of God’s Word, exploring its poems and stories, letters and visions, and seeing how they make sense in the light of the centrality of Jesus. Because this is not a textbook on exegesis, I have not covered all the usual material on sentence-flow diagrams, principal ideas, biblical theology, and so on, but that careful study of the text is the necessary foundation of proper preaching.

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Being wise in a biblical sense begins with having a thorough grasp of the Bible.

But in itself even that is not enough, because it is possible to pass any exam in the Bible and yet be a fool. Jesus said that true wisdom is the decision to believe God, and act on what we know he has said. Here are his words on the subject of wisdom:

Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rains came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash. (Matt. 7:24–27)

Wisdom necessarily entails doing what Jesus said: without obedience, knowledge is foolishness. That is a foundational thought for understanding the work of application.

2. Teaching: secondly, the Teacher is not a man who studies for studying’s sake. He read theology, but not for a hobby, or to be well informed. He certainly knew his stuff, and if you had asked him for an answer to a question, simple or deep, you would have found he had knowledge. But he knew his full task was to have ‘imparted knowledge to the people’. He is paying attention to other people.

There is apparently an easy test to distinguish good schoolteachers from poor ones: ask them what they teach. Poor ones reply, ‘I teach French,’ or ‘I teach physics’ or whatever their subject is. Good ones say, ‘I teach children.’ The Teacher here would have fallen into the second group: he taught knowledge to the people. Or better, he ‘imparted’ knowledge, meaning he passed it over, so that the people who learned from him knew the lessons for themselves. Poor teachers give long lectures and think that by doing that they have been teaching; but good teachers know that if people are not learning, they are not being taught properly. This Teacher studied for the sake of other people.

There is a little comment used in some Christian circles: ‘So-and-so is a great Bible teacher’ or ‘After this song Fred is going to come and explain the Bible.’ I know what is meant, but it worries me. It is true, but it is not true enough.

How does your preaching line up beside this so far? Is it wise, constantly pointing people to Jesus and his death? Does it teach people? Or do you just assume that if people are sitting quietly, they are soaking it all up? Are they learning, or are you like me on that dreadful summer’s evening, speaking stodge into space?

3. Ponder: thirdly, the Teacher ‘pondered...many proverbs’. In a busy week, with Sunday coming, this is one of the aspects of preaching we find it easy to avoid. But here is the Teacher, sitting in his chair with a cup of coffee, a pad of paper and a pen, and chewing things over, mulling, not rushing to read any more books, and certainly not rushing to write the first draft. This is not idle, lazy activity of course – it is a focused, praying, intentional time of thinking things through and jotting ideas down.

4. Research: fourthly, ‘he searched out...many proverbs’. The Teacher had been involved in a deliberate piece of research to find out the world’s wisdom on the meaning of life – he said at the outset that ‘I applied my mind to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under the heavens’ (1:13), and the commentators often point out the similarities between parts of this book and the wisdom from surrounding cultures. The parallel with our task as preachers is not hard to see, because we also are to do careful study and research, but we should notice that the Teacher did that after he had pondered. His work is not a patchwork of other people’s views but his own position, thought through and aware of alternatives.

5. Order: fifthly, he ‘set in order...many proverbs’. This wise Teacher knew that to communicate well he had to think about the sequence in which his material would be presented, so that it would work logically. How could he seize people’s attention? What would be the most striking way to begin?

Meaningless! Meaningless!...

Utterly meaningless!

Everything is meaningless.

(Eccl. 1:2)

Will that do? Then, how will he build on it? And so the book weaves its subtle course, with prose and poetry, proverb and pun. This is careful, aware, intelligent and captivating communication. The result is that he defies us not to pay attention.

6. Words: sixthly, the Teacher ‘sought to find just the right words’. The correct phrase, the proper adjective all combine to make an unmistakably clear piece of teaching. We preachers deal in words, but we do not normally have long in which to use them. Taking time to find the fresh phrase is yet again hard, but the right words will cut through a fog of inattention and thoughtlessness. The wrong words confuse.

7. Truth: seventhly, he made sure that ‘what he wrote was upright and true’. He checked, and checked again. The equivalent for us is to make sure that we do not make theological blunders, and distort God’s Word.

This passage is a biblical workbook on the communicator’s craft. How many sermons have you heard, or preached, that were confusing? This Teacher ‘set in order...many proverbs’. How many were true but deadly dull? This Teacher ‘sought to find just the right words’. How many were shallow and manipulative? What this Teacher taught was ‘upright and true’.

A journalist who is a Christian once commented that many preachers he hears could improve simply by taking more time in their preparation: not to squeeze more in, but to rework what they have. He wrote:

a great many sermons are what an editor would call ‘a good first draft’. All the material is there, the thinking has been done, it’s in reasonable shape, but it’s not actually finished (that is not surprising, since it was, in all likelihood, still being written at 11:30 pm on Saturday night). The tell-tale signs are: illustrations and stories that are funny and/or effective but only tenuously related to the point (i.e. that the preacher has spotted or thought of early in the sermon-writing process but that don’t really fit into the finished product); extraneous points or cross-references that seem to have too little to do with the main flow of the argument; too much detail on an interesting side issue or exegetical difficulty (about which the preacher is intrigued and has read quite a lot, most of which has found its way into the sermon draft); an overly long introduction or a too-brief conclusion (the introduction often being the first thing written, and the conclusion the last at 11:30 pm Saturday)...What is true of writing and editing articles is also true of sermons, I think: you must leave time for a re-write.

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8. Sermons that stick and sting: those lessons in themselves are priceless, and paying attention to them would improve many of our sermons. But the Teacher has more lessons for us, and uses three word pictures for them. It is possible they are variations of one image, but they play in slightly different directions.

‘The words of the wise are like goads.’ In my country and culture we do not use goads, and most Bible readers would have to look the word up in a dictionary. A goad is a stout stick, either sharp at one end or with a nail driven through it, which was used to whack cattle on the backside to make them move. A goad is a cattle prod. The Teacher wants us to think this one through for ourselves, which is why it is a proverb and not a straightforward statement. In what ways are ‘The words of the wise...like goads’? Surely, goad words make people do things. There is intentionality about good teaching that means everyone feels they have to act in response.

So when someone asks, ‘What was the point of that sermon?’, we should have a mental image of a sharp stick, a stubborn cow and enough force to make the cow move in the right direction.

Notice too that this is no accident. The Teacher did not have three truths to communicate, with a general plan of leaving people feeling better informed, or feeling better in general. No, the image is of a deliberate, purposeful series of choices to sharpen his material to produce exactly the result he intended. I suspect the reason why so many sermons do not produce clear decisions is that we do not have the courage to dare to take this on our shoulders. We present truth clearly, but something inside us tells us that to make the implications clear, with the necessary consequences and life-changing results, would be pre­sumptuous. Not so, says the Teacher. Sharpen your stick and give them a prod.

The second image focuses on the nail itself: ‘the collected sayings of the wise are like firmly embedded nails’. He could be continuing with the image of the nail through the cattle prod, or perhaps he has changed to someone hammering a nail deeply into a wall. In either case the emphasis lies on the phrase ‘firmly embedded’. This nail will not come out.

So the Teacher has put his material together in such a way that it stays in people’s heads; they cannot forget it, so it is there when they need it. Once again this is no accident. This is his deliberate choice: he knows what will help people to remember, and he gives them every assistance. He is responsible for this.

So, preachers, we need to measure ourselves against these two pictures. Are our sermons designed to be easily memorable, so that people learn and act – do they stick? Are our sermons ruthlessly honed so that they move people to act – do they sting? Or do we too easily give people a lot of ‘stuff’ and leave them to work out what to do with it?

And finally, once we have reached the point of