The people are very fond of understanding what is addressed to them, for it raises them in their own eyes, and is, moreover, a real gratification to them. Therein they are active, whereas when merely astounded they are simply passive; to say nothing of the additional fact that they go away as ignorant as they came.
A preacher who had been specially appointed to deliver a course of sermons in one of our towns, was accosted while walking out by a poor woman, upon whom his presence seemed to produce a lively impression of joy, which was forthwith manifested in these words:—"How delighted I am to have met you! I must tell you that I attend your sermons and understand them. Yes, believe me, even I understand your sermons. Every body says that you are a savant, but for my part I don't believe it; because, whenever our rector or his curates preach, I don't understand anything they say; whereas when you preach I understand all. If you were a savant, an ignoramus like me would not be able to understand you." …
We must retrace our steps, then, and return to a clear, plain, simple, and vivifying exposition of the Gospel; for when religion is set forth in that way it is always attractive. We may have to study much to attain it, but when once Christianity is rightly understood, and we get thoroughly to know those with whom we have to do, we shall find it possible to acquire an influence over their minds and hearts, and easy to adapt our style to the intelligence of all. You should see the working classes when addressed by one of our great preachers: their countenances brighten, their eyes glisten, their bosoms glow. They understand, they are moved, they applaud.
To attain this plainness—speech being the vehicle of thought—words should never be used which are not generally understood. There are terms in language which are common to the literary and non-literary; only such should be adopted, and all scientific, philosophical, technical, theological, and even devotional terminology should be discarded. Our age is not strong in spiritual matters: they speak a language which it does not even care to learn, for it does not feel the need of it.
Use none of those set phrases, those trite expressions, which follow one after another in all sermonizers for the last half century. They form a threadbare language which no longer conveys any meaning, and which is quite unfit for the transmission of thought. Drive them from your pen and lips; try to acquire a disgust, a hatred for them: they are more unintelligible than either Latin or Greek. You would do well to abstain entirely from perusing such sermonizers, because one unwittingly picks up their hackneyed phraseology; which will recur to you when you are at a loss what else to say. Moreover, they prevent you from being natural. …
It is desirable, doubtless, that you should read Bourdaloue for doctrine, Bossuet for touch and for the sublime, Massillon for style and form; but let that suffice. Then read the Scriptures, the Fathers, books of devotion, and such other works as will make you acquainted with the wants and tendencies of the age, and teach you how to combat its passions and its errors.
You must beware, however, of attempting to preach like Bossuet, Bourdaloue, or Massillon. They addressed courtiers, and the elite of society of their times, when men had more knowledge of religion than they have now. Besides, if those eminent preachers lived in these days, there is every reason to believe that they would not always speak now as they did then.
Plain speech should be coupled with plain thought.