Sermon Debriefing

"Michelle. That's who you were talking about in the sermon."

My second worst fear for yesterday's sermon was realized when one of our visitors said this to me ("Michelle" wasn't the name she used). My first worst fear was that "Michelle" would be there. I even scanned the congregation before the prayer in both services. I wasn't sure exactly how I would change the sermon if she were there, but I would have needed to change the opening and closing illustration.

For those of you who don't know, I opened and closed the sermon with a story about a young woman I've seen around town who appears to be gripped by [condition withheld]. I've wanted to say hello to her in the past because it breaks my heart to see her. I did finally meet her last week. I learned her name, what she's doing, where she is from--all of that "first chat" surface kind of information. She learned my name, that I was minister in town, and that I went to Emmanuel for seminary.

I, of course, did not use her name in the sermon. Despite that one missing piece of information, one visitor knew the young woman (by name). Another person knew who I was talking about because she had seen her and felt the same sadness.

Next time I will fictionalize these kinds of examples. Next time it will be a guy I've seen who has leprosy. Next time it will be a three legged horse. I regret bringing her so fully to the mind of the congregation, and I have to pray about what to do about that.

One more point of debriefing. One of our members shared a touching story triggered by yesterday's sermon. He mentioned a man he knew who was pursuing his PhD in New Testament studies in Nashville. The man used to walk out of his way in order to avoid a cluster of prostitutes on the way to his office. He didn't want to get too close to them for fear that his actions would be misinterpreted. Then, when studying Jesus, he realized that Jesus would have walked out of his way toward the prostitutes. He decided to be more like Jesus on the way home. He began walking past the prostitutes and saying hello. There was one prostitute who was there regularly. He said hello to her everyday.

When he was moving from Nashville he stopped and talked to the prostitute while on his way home for the last time. He told her that he wouldn't be coming past the corner anymore. She began crying. She said, "You're the only man I've ever known who hasn't hurt me."

Sometimes the best sermon illustrations find me ten minutes after the sermon. If I could go back and do the sermon again I would open and close with that story and leave "Michelle" out of the sermon completely. Of course, there's no guarantee that someone would know the person in the second story.