A man of high intellectual attainments, recently converted, declared that the manner in which he was bored by sermons during his youth, had kept him from listening to them for twenty years. We complain, and with reason, that the masses have ceased to frequent the church, and that sermons nowadays are not popular. But do not we assist in driving them away? The services are longer now than they were in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, when there was more faith abroad among the people generally.
Religion would most probably be greatly promoted if the sermon and the services also were abridged. This might readily be affected as regards the latter. Pitch your music out of the window, or rather out of the door, as the former might not be considered parliamentary. Or, take care at least that the polkas with which your organist embellishes the Magnificat shall not occupy more than a quarter of an hour. With respect to the sermons, they might easily be shortened without injuring them in the least. Lop off all commonplace considerations from the exordium, all useless discussions from the body of the discourse, and all vague phrases from the peroration. Prune away all redundant words, all parasitical epithets, using only those that triple the force of the substantive. Be chary of words and phrases; economize them as a miser does his crown-pieces. The people affect those thoughts which are formulated in a single word. They like such expressions as the following:—vive! … à bas! … mort! … vengeance! … liberté! … justice! These simple words often move men more than a long discourse.
In this respect, however, there has been a marked improvement in many of our churches. There are parishes in Paris where a rule prevails that no one shall preach more than forty minutes. In some popular meetings, preachers are not allowed to speak beyond fifteen minutes, and it is there that the most good is done.
Nowadays, brevity is one of the first conditions of success, and of promoting the welfare of souls.
The preacher who was most frequented at Paris during the Lenten season this year, hardly ever exceeded half-an-hour. There are, undoubtedly, many other rules to be observed, but brevity will not injuriously affect any of them.
The people are easily impressed: they like to be moved; but nothing passes away so quickly as an emotion. In order to bring them back to the church, we must have sermons of ten, seven, and even of five minutes duration. The Mass and the sermon together should not exceed half-an-hour.
This plan has been attempted. The experiment was made, and produced the most happy and unexpected results. Intelligent and zealous pastors, distressed at seeing that the greater part of their flock scarcely ever heard the word of God or went to church, established a low Mass, announced as specially designed for the men, with a lecture of from ten to five minutes duration every Sunday. … Crowds flocked to the church, which was sometimes found too small to hold them. Nor was this all: many attended high Mass also, and even went to the confessional; which they had not done, some for twenty, some for thirty, and some for forty years. This success was obtained in irreligious as well as religious districts, and under the most unfavorable circumstances; even in populous manufacturing towns. And the same plan is practicable everywhere. Frequently, nothing more is required than a man to take the initiative with a right good will, in order to attract crowds to the church and to religion.
But it will be objected: What can be said in ten or seven minutes? Much, much more than is generally thought, when due preparation is made, when we have a good knowledge of mankind, and are well versed in religious matters. … Have not a few words often sufficed to revolutionize multitudes, and to produce an immense impression?