CHAPTER I.
THE FOUNDATION—SUBJECT—OBJECT—TEXT.
We have thus far discussed the subject of preliminary training, and have endeavored to show what natural qualities the preacher must possess, and how these can be improved by diligent cultivation. The importance of a wide scope of knowledge, and especially of that which bears upon oratory; of understanding and having some command of the powers of language; of having a personal experience of Christ’s pardoning love, and a heart filled with desire for the salvation of our fellow men; of believing that God has called us to the work of the ministry; has already been pointed out. When a man finds himself in possession of these, and is still a diligent student, growing daily in grace, he is prepared to preach the Gospel in “demonstration of the spirit and of power.” He is then ready to consider the methods by which all his gifts and acquirements may be made available, and wielded with mightiest effect in the service of his Master.
Some of the directions given in this and succeeding chapters are of universal application, while others are to be regarded only as suggestions, to be modified and changed according to individual taste, or particular circumstances.
A plan is necessary to every sermon. A rude mass of brick, lumber, mortar and iron, thrown together as the materials chance to be furnished, does not constitute a house, and is worthless until each is built into its appropriate place, in obedience to some intelligent design. A sermon must be constructed in a similar manner. It may contain much that is good, or useful, or striking, and be replete with sparkling imagery, and full of ideas that will command the attention of the audience, and yet completely fail. The only safe method is to have a well-defined plan marked out from beginning to end, and to work according to it.
It is always better to have this plan previously constructed. Sometimes when we speak on a subject we have often thought over, its whole outline will flash upon us in a moment, and we will speak as well as if we had employed months in preparation. But such cases are rare exceptions. The man who attempts, on the spur of the moment, to arrange his facts, draw his inferences, and enforce his opinions, will find the task very difficult, even if his memory promptly furnishes all the necessary materials.
Every discourse, of whatever character, should have a subject and an object. A sermon requires a text also, and these three constitute the foundation upon which it is built. We will consider them separately.
A good plan cannot be constructed without an object in view. Why is it that at a particular time a congregation assembles, and sits silent while a man addresses them? What is his motive in standing up before them and asking their attention? Many of the people may have been drawn together by the lightest influences, but the minister, at least, should be actuated by a noble purpose. If he has a clear aim before him, it will tend powerfully to give unity and consistency to his discourse, and prevent him from falling into endless digressions. It will bind all detached parts together, and infuse a common life through the whole mass. We cannot be too careful in the selection of such a ruling object, for it will affect the whole superstructure.
Our purposes should not be too general. It is not enough that we should wish to do good. Probably no minister ever preaches without that general desire. But the important question is, “What special good do I hope to accomplish by this sermon?” When he has decided this, he will then be prepared to adapt his means to the end proposed, and the whole discourse will acquire a definiteness and precision that would never otherwise have belonged to it. The more we sub-divide our objects, the more will this precision be increased, although there is a limit beyond which it would be at the expense of other qualities. If we desire the salvation of souls, it is well, and most powerful sermons have been preached with that object in view. But if we narrow our immediate aim, and keep in view only one of the steps by which the soul advances to God, it will give our discourse a keener edge, and we can plead with those who have not yet taken that step with more prospect of immediate success, than if we at once placed the whole journey before them. For example, many sermons may be preached with “repentance” as the central object, and this duty enforced by various motives and innumerable arguments. We may show that it is a duty, that man is lost without it, that Jesus calls him to it, that God assists, that salvation follows it, etc.
Our objects usually have reference to the action of those who hear us, and the more fully that action is understood, and the more earnest our desire to produce it, the greater our persuasive power will be. If we do not exactly know what we wish to accomplish, there is very little probability that our audience will interpret our thoughts for us. We may, it is true, labor to convince the judgment of our hearers, and make them understand truth more clearly than before, but this is usually because of the influence thus exerted on their actions.
The objects that should govern our sermons are comparatively few, and ought to be selected with great care. Much of our success depends on having the right one of these before us at the right time; for if we aim at that which is unattainable, we lose our effort. If we preach sanctification to a congregation of unawakened sinners, no power of treatment can redeem the sermon from the cardinal defect of inappropriateness. If we preach against errors which no one of our hearers entertains, our logic is lost, even if the very errors we battle against are not suggested. Let us carefully note the state of our audience, and select for our object that which ought to be accomplished.