The Message and the Man: / Some Essentials of Effective Preaching

by J. Dodd Jackson

So ministered the Master, and so, His first preachers, and hence it came to pass that the early disciples of the infant faith were known for their calmness, their courage and their joy. Men "took knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus." This was the very age of which the poet has told us:—

On that hard Pagan World disgust
And secret loathing fell;
Deep weariness and sated lust
Made human life a hell.

But the servants of the Galilean, more persecuted than any other men, walked abroad with a gladness which was at once the perplexity and the condemnation of the time. "Rejoice evermore" was a sacred command and a glorious possibility of the new religion, for they were taught to believe that "All things are yours and ye are Christ's and Christ is God's"; they were assured that "Nothing shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord"!

That was the first century, and with us now is the twentieth; and it is said that the burdens of men become more numerous and more heavy as the years pass on. Older grows the world, but there is no lessening of its care, no relief from its perplexity, its pain, its sorrow. As civilisation becomes more complex the "drive" of life waxes ever more and more fierce. Along with this complaint, it is said by some, that in the Church there is less joy than in those old days—less, indeed, than in times within the memory of the grey-haired among us. We who are Methodists are often reminded of a former Methodism which was vocal with praises and electric with joy. They whisper that it is different with us now; that even the pulpit has lost its note of gladness. Care sits upon the preacher's brow. The songs of Zion are timed to the throb of hearts that lag for very weariness. "Some are sick and some are sad." "Cares of to-day and burdens of to-morrow" haunt us in the very means of grace, and little is said to make us forget. "Fightings without and fears within," from these we seek deliverance in vain. The prophet has forgotten how to comfort or, if he have not forgotten, he thinks the task unworthy of hours which might be more learnedly and impressively employed.

If we admit, as perhaps we may, the existence of a measure of truth in this complaint, it will only be to claim that there is some excuse for those whom it asperses. The intellectual problems bred of a materialistic age have so compelled the preacher to the defence of the walls of Zion that it may well have come to pass that the inhabitants of the city—the men and women down in the streets and dwellings, for the security of whom he has been contending—may have had to go short of many things; a time of siege is a time of deprivations and hardships for citizens as well as soldiers. The great social questions of the present day have also claimed much of his thought and effort. He has felt, and justly, that these questions ought to receive more pulpit recognition. It is possible, and should not be thought surprising, that in the ardour of the social crusade the preacher may have sometimes given to these things time and strength which might have been better spent in ministering to the personal griefs and perplexities of such as sat before him for their need's sake. It may be well for us each to make inquiry concerning ourselves in these matters. As a result we will realise again, no doubt, how numerous and insistent are the demands made upon us to turn aside in our ministry to treat of a hundred things which once upon a time we did not think of as pulpit questions. Be this as it may, here lies work for the preacher which he must not neglect. It is as certainly his duty to cheer and encourage the heart of the individual as to indicate the path to better conditions of life for the multitude.

And this he can only effectively do as he perfects himself in his understanding of their needs. Of this understanding, and of the ways in which it must be sought, we have already written and will say no more, except to point out how every new discovery concerning the preacher's duties furnishes additional illustration of the absolute necessity that he study not books only, but also men and the conditions of their lives. It is of little use knowing the contents of well-filled shelves if we have never read the living volumes before us in the pews. Again we say, "if we only knew."

Still knowledge is not the whole of the preacher's need in order that his message may contain this cheering quality. It is even more needful that he shall, himself, be one of those who abide in the comfort of God. He must have learned the efficacy of the great consoling and gladdening verities by experience of their application to his own soul. He only can surely cheer others who himself is cheerful, and no man who has ever felt the pressure and care of life can be cheerful excepting in so far as these great guarantees have become real to his own spirit. Only with "the comfort wherewith he is comforted of God" will he comfort others!

And what are the verities whose application he must have experienced? There is not one of all the glorious circle of revealed truths that is not of use for the strengthening and encouraging of men; but there are some of these truths which might almost have been designed for this special use. Do we receive—do we preach them as we ought?

There is the doctrine of Divine Providence. Surely this truth should be preached more frequently than it is. Surely, too, it should be preached in such a way as to link its meanings to the common hours, the common needs and anxieties of life. For the vast majority of men life is actually a struggle for bread for themselves and their dependants. We had almost said that it is a constant escape from ever threatening evils. The question of food and raiment is full for them of the direst probabilities. Many a man listens to the preacher whose life is, indeed, from hand to mouth. Fierce competition seeks at every turn to rob him of his little opportunity of bread winning. Such a man had rather be told of a providing God than of the newest discoveries in Biblical criticism. If we forget his need and suffer him to go from the Sanctuary no more hopeful and brave than when he came—then, so far as he is concerned, we have surely failed.

There is again the doctrine of the Divine Presence. "I will be with thee in the six troubles, and in the seventh I will not leave thee." The wonderful truth of Jesus Christ in living, constant, saving nearness to every man, ready to help, to deliver and guide—here is a doctrine, mighty to comfort all the world. Before us are men who, morning by morning, go forth with trembling to spend the day in associations full of such temptations and dangers as are undreamed of by us. Here are men and women haunted by bitter memories, whose midnight solitude is disturbed by the ghosts of buried years. There are many lonely people in the world, many from whom lover and friend have been put far away. For such is this treasure of promise committed unto us. Send yonder man back to his conflict; yonder stranger to his loneliness; yonder memoried soul to his solitude to face again the spirits of his bygone days, with this thought: that every step of the way—whether in the city or in the desert—Jesus Christ will be by his side. Such a preaching will be sweeter to him a thousand times than perplexing metaphysical discussions.