Controlling our inner control freak

Judy preached a sermon in which she told a story about herself, a lovely narrative that helped us connect with her on a personal level and supported the scripture lesson well. Judy was known for her preaching, and the church had grown steadily since the day she stepped in the pulpit.

In the handshake line, I overheard a parishioner telling her, “I’m getting awfully tired of hearing your stories. Next time, could you just stick with the text? Our last pastor just talked about the Bible and I learned so much from him.”

When I went to greet her, Judy looked clearly deflated. I said, “I’m sorry. I thought it was beautiful. I don’t know why people think they have the right to tell you what to preach.” I knew the downcast frustration well. I knew what it was like to spend a week wrestling with the scripture, praying for guidance, digging deep for just the right illustration, and preaching with that nervous feeling that you hope never goes away. Then the years of study and hours of preparation are disregarded in a matter of personal taste.