The Rev. Dr. Leah D. Schade
I'm no stranger to push-back from people angered by a controversial sermon. But a shift is happening in churches that is testing the mettle of even the most prophetic preachers.
I was
recently invited to supply preach at a congregation to cover a colleague during
his vacation. I had been told by several
different people that the congregation had a reputation of being a politically
progressive church. So I crafted a prophetic sermon that engaged contemporary
issues for the assigned lectionary readings for the day. In the sermon, I never
referenced any political party or figure, but clearly named the systemic loss
of an ethical and moral center in our country of late. I also reiterated Moses’ call to follow God’s
commandments to turn away from death and embrace life (Deuteronomy 30:15-20). True to my commitment to include God’s
Creation in my preaching where appropriate, I critiqued the ways we have abused
this Earth in violation of the command to choose life. But I ended by pointing out that God is still
at work calling people to rise up in defense of the vulnerable and answering
the call to justice along with people of other faiths and nonreligious people
of good will (you can read my blog post based on the sermon here).
The
reactions of the listeners in the days following the sermon revealed a much
more politically diverse congregation than I expected. The pastor told me he had received numerous
emails and phone calls from his parishioners – some who had expressed
appreciation for the sermon, and some who expressed strong anger at what I had
preached. So the pastor asked if I would
be willing to come back to the church to talk about the sermon with anyone who
wanted to discuss it further.
I was open
to this suggestion for several reasons.
First, my current research is exploring how
Mainline Protestant pastors handle sermons on controversial issues, so I
saw this as an opportunity to hear first-hand from parishioners about this very
topic. Second, as a seminary professor of preaching and worship who requires
students to receive constructive critique of their sermons, it’s only fair that
I be willing to accept the same kind of feedback. And third, my working hypothesis regarding
preaching about controversial issues is that the process of deliberative
dialogue is one way that we might heal our divisions, work toward civil
discourse, and move the conversation forward in a productive way. So in the spirit of scholarly inquiry,
pastoral openness, and civic goodwill, I accepted the invitation to return to
the church for a conversation.
The room was
packed with over 20 people (they normally had just a handful of participants
for these Wednesday evening “table talks”).
The pastor began by handing out a very helpful set of ground rules for
discussion entitled “Touchstones
for Creating Safe Space” from the Center
for Courage and Renewal. After
leading us in prayer he then asked me to share with the group some opening
remarks about how I had come to preach that particular sermon. I explained that I had chosen to take a more
prophetic approach to preaching the scriptural text based on my informed assumption that this
congregation was open to sermons that directly addressed justice issues from a
biblical perspective. But, I continued, since then I had come to learn that there were strong reactions to the sermon, both positive and
negative, and I was interested in hearing from those gathered what they wanted to
share about the sermon.
From what I could tell, about half of the people in the room had a negative
reaction to the sermon, and they shared the following kinds of responses:
* I don’t come to church to hear about political issues. I don’t like to hear that.
* This sermon was just post-election whining.
* There was too much law and not enough Gospel.
* This sermon was too political.
* I was offended. I feel you
attacked me just because I voted for Trump.
Though there was not enough time for me to respond to these accusations, it was curious to me the kinds of things that were read
into the sermon, especially the personalization of what was clearly a critique of systems and ethos, not individuals. (Exploring this phenomenon is a task for another time.) And I noted a general air of discomfort, indignation, and
even scolding disapproval from those who offered their critiques.
Others, however, expressed thoughts that were exactly the opposite,
with an overall tone of support, appreciation and even gratitude for the sermon. They shared the following kinds of responses:
* The church should speak
about these political issues. Jesus never
withheld himself from critiquing those in power.
* Moses was political and stood up to those who were abusing their
power.
* I heard both Law and Gospel in this sermon because it invited us to
find the center of our morals and ethics.
* I believe we are called to be caretakers of the environment as part
of our baptismal vocation, and this sermon affirmed that for me.
* I found this sermon refreshing because it directly addressed issues I
care about.
* The fact that so many of us have come together to discuss this sermon
is a good thing. We need to talk about
these issues in the church.
Despite these positive rebuttals to the negative reactions to the
sermon, the angriest voices were the loudest. There was one person in
particular whose level of anger was so strong, my experience of her was that of
being attacked. She repeatedly
interrupted me (breaking the agreed-upon rules of engagement) after she had demanded
that I explain myself about a point in the sermon, and snidely ridiculed the
safe space ground rules agreed upon by the group. She also threatened that she would leave the
church (which made no sense because this was just one sermon by a visiting
preacher). And she demanded to know if the
pastor had vetted my sermon ahead of time, and if the synod (which oversees and
coordinates the spiritual and organizational activities of its member
congregations) didn’t have guidelines for what is allowed to be preached. In other words (as I heard it), isn’t there some way we can
silence this kind of preaching? Can't we make her sit down and shut up? I
noticed several heads nodding in agreement with her.
At that point, I recalled what
had happened to Senator Elizabeth Warren when Senator Mitch McConnell
silenced her from reading Coretta Scott King’s letter when the Senate was
debating whether or not to confirm Jeff Sessions as attorney general. Warren was censured from speaking, and
McConnell gave the following justification:
“She was warned. She was given an
explanation. Nevertheless, she
persisted.”
I know preaching during this time in our nation’s history is
difficult, even painful. The pushback
can hurt. The consequences of people being angry, withdrawing their membership
and their offerings, and threatening to shame you and even censure your
proclamation of the scriptures are real.
I know because I’ve been hearing it from preachers around the country
through my research, in conversations with pastoral colleagues, and because I’ve
experienced it firsthand.
But perhaps we preachers –
especially those of us who are preaching while female – need to adopt our own
version of this now-famous trio of sentences:
The preacher was warned.
The preacher was given an
explanation.
Nevertheless, the
preacher persisted.
#preacherpersisted
In the days since that lion’s den of a meeting, I am still
committed to dialogue and hearing those with whom I disagree. I know there is much to be learned and I
remain steadfast in my hope that one way through this divisiveness is through
honest respectful speaking and humble listening.
But here’s one thing I know:
I will not allow my prophetic
preaching voice to be silenced.
At my ordination, I made a vow to “preach and teach in
accordance with the holy scriptures and the creeds and confessions” of the
Lutheran church. Thus I follow Martin
Luther’s lead of calling out abuse of power when I see it and being willing to
accept the consequences of my commitment to justice. In that ordination vow I also promised that I
would “lead God’s people by my own example in faithful service and holy living,
and to give faithful witness in the world, that God's love may be known in all
that I do.” Thus, following the lead of
another Lutheran minister – Dietrich
Bonhoeffer – who took a bold prophetic stand against a dangerous and
powerful regime, I am committed to ministering to those most vulnerable, and
holding myself accountable to “the least of these” whom Jesus has identified as
his own embodiment in this world (Matthew 25:31-46).
As my good friend and colleague Emily Askew has reminded me,
sometimes being prophetic entails loss. If
people threaten to leave because they are gnashing their teeth at the gospel, we
may have to let them go in love, entrusting them to God’s care. But if you’re avoiding preaching the hard
stuff because you’re afraid of dividing the church, remember – those divisions
are there with or without you. You are simply called to witness to the reality of what is . . . and
share the vision of what God is calling us to be.
This does not mean you should be partisan in your preaching, as
in giving endorsement of a specific party or political individual. But you have a protected right to offer a
prophetic critique of words, policies, executive orders, and actions of any
person, government, corporation or organization that holds power. Remember – you are called to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ who never shied away from “talking politics,” which, in its truest sense is that which concerns the polis, the citizens. Thus Jesus' ministry and preaching were absolutely political, which authorizes our ministry and preaching to address the concerns of the citizens as well.
The key, of course, is how you preach politics. One piece of advice I can offer at this point is to find a group
of colleagues with whom you can share your sermons before you preach them, so
that you can help each other navigate the Scylla of partisanship and the
Charybdis of cowardice. You do not have
to be, nor should you be, a lone ranger in your ministry. Find
and cultivate trustworthy preaching partners and hold each other accountable while
offering mutual gifts of wisdom and prudence. (I'll be offering more guidance and best practices as my research on "preaching in the purple zone" continues, so I invite you to subscribe to this blog to see future posts.)
So attend to your biblical
exegesis with skill. Apply your study of theology
with integrity. Let your pastoral heart beat for those you serve both inside and outside your church. Pray with fierce trust in the God who called you. And preach the gospel
with persistent courage!
