Tuesday, April 12, 2005

context

A question that I am hearing with increasing frequency as a changing culture begins to be noticed by the church is this: “Is the role of the preacher being taken over by the poet?”
This seems to be a strange question to me, for several reasons. First, it seems to imply that the poet is intentionally co-opting the role of the preacher. Second, since when have poets not been preachers? Third, where in the old testament are there preachers who aren’t poets? I can’t see in the scripture where poet/preacher/prophet aren’t all inter-related.
The confusion implied in this question is related to the narrow and oft miss-applied definitions and understandings of the work of each of these characters. The preacher is defined by standing in a pulpit, wearing a certain outfit, and delivering a message through an accepted, prescribed methodology. The poet is defined as “preparing people to hear the message,” “focusing peoples’ thoughts to till the emotional ground for the seeds of the message,” “creating an atmosphere or mood in which the message can be more easily heard,” “presenting general, generic ideas and truths before the specific truth is brought through a preacher.” Never is the poet seen as one who has a message. That is among those who are asking this question.
There is an anxiety behind the question. The methodology of preaching is equated with the dissemination of the gospel, and therefore a rejection of the methodology is seen as a rejection of the gospel.

Of course there are plenty of people preaching who aren’t preachers and there are plenty of people poeting who aren’t poets. This is because when we define the gifts, we inadvertently define methodologies rather than gifts. Maybe I could say context rather than methodologies. If we determine that someone has the gift of preaching, we assign them to a specific methodology determined by our tiny, short-sighted approach to doing church, evangelism, missions, etc. If someone is determined to have the gift of teaching, we assign them in the same way. This year, I’ve been leading worship for a series of lectures/sermons on “the activities of the Holy Spirit.” On the day that the topic/activity was “Gifting”, I stepped off the stage and one of the first comments from the speaker was that people are NOT gifted as worship leaders. I tend to agree with him, so in context of what he was talking about, I thought little of it. Shortly thereafter, I “guest speaking” to a class when this comment was brought up. This time, in context of what I’d been doing when the comment was made, I gave it more consideration. I wondered at what the speaker might have thought my gift was. I thought about the possibility that mine and his were the same. But my context was “opening” for him, his context was “bringing the message.” In light of our same gifting, if our talents were similar, we could switch contexts. An ironic moment came some time later when my comments to this class sparked my being asked to speak on the subject in an event involving the entire university community. When my name was seen listed among speakers, an inquiry was made as to what I’d be doing. The enquirer was told that it wouldn’t involve music and panic ensued. Heaven forbid that I practice my gift outside the context of the expected methodology. I find this very amusing and it actually punctuates my point. I can go about within my own context, unnoticed by those with narrow methodologies, and speak forth my message. But if I momentarily enter their realm it is feared that what I have to say will be damaging. In light of their other fear, that my methodology is pushing aside theirs in a changing culture, I would think I would inspire more worry within my own context.

I feel that our methodology is narrow, that we assign people outside of their gifting because we don’t have a methodology that accommodates what God has intended for them to be doing. We certainly don’t have a methodology that accommodates them doing it in the way that God intends them to do it. If someone has the gift of preaching and is a musician, he is assigned to “open” for the pastor who may have the gift of shepherding but not preaching, but is going to deliver the message nonetheless, after the preacher/musician warms up the congregation for him. Perhaps the pastor has the gift of teaching, but not preaching, or he is a gifted speaker, but not a gifted preacher.

In the contemporary church, methodology has become the liturgy. Certainly we would see the account of Paul on Mars’ Hill as an example of preaching the gospel. But if I were to sit in the Horseshoe at USC and share the same information I would be seen as sunbathing, relaxing, conversing, socializing. Never preaching, because preaching involves a pulpit, 5 points, and a book. Though a song can involve a singer a listener and the gospel, it is not preaching for the aforementioned reasons. It can contain the gospel as fully as a book, but if the book is seen as the gospel rather than a vehicle for the message of the gospel, no other vehicle will ever be accepted as real. That is, except to those who need to hear it. This thought speaks to the feeling that poets intentionally take over the preaching. Truth is the “preacher” and the “poet” and the poet/prophet have always been there operating within whatever the given culture. The culture determines to whom they will listen.

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