Listening Before You Preach

Kath r y n M o w r y

Too often, we think good preaching is mostly about the words we use in our sermons. We assume that if we have prayed enough, read a few commentaries, examined word meanings in the text, tried to make sense of the passage, understood its context, fit the puzzle pieces together with some word magic and a couple of great illustrations, and practiced at least once in an empty sanctuary or in front of a mirror, the only remaining major task is to utter words that will lead to transformation.

Wh at We Le a r n e d i n Pr e ac h i n g Cl a s s

Perhaps it is natural that we think so about preaching because this is how we received points for our first assignment in preaching class at seminary in spite of nervously lisping our way through the “ughs” and “oops.” Our preaching was rewarded with comments about what we said and how we said it. And as it usually happens, what was not taught has shaped our ministry as much as what was taught.

Listening is one of these practices that’s not always taught or doesn’t seem as vital in our preparation and practice as other skills. However, in pastoral ministry, listening to people is as important as studying the biblical text and listening to the Holy Spirit.

Why should we listen to people to inform our preaching? Surely, their opinions and thoughts will not lead us to compromise the proclamation of the Word to give people what they want, so why do we need to know what they are thinking?

Th e Re a l Re a s o n to Li st e n

Maybe one reason to listen is not so we know what people are thinking but to give them a chance to articulate their own thoughts. In many social science classes, the picture of an iceberg is used to illustrate the truth that there is more to most people than what meets the eye. Like the tip of the iceberg, they publicly display certain beliefs, perspectives, and values. However, a great many beliefs, assumptions, values, and experiences lie beneath the surface.

People’s thoughts can be formed by these subconscious inflexibilities, commitments, and assumptions that they aren’t fully aware of—and these can lead to conflicts if those territories are crossed by an unsuspecting pastor. In such situations, the pastor is likely to hear, “Something you said in your sermon rubbed me the wrong way. I can’t put my finger on why, but I just know you are wrong on this” or “That new preacher just isn’t right for us. We liked her during the interview, but now she just feels so foreign.”

The chances are that pastors who have found congregations smiling at them while simultaneously seeming to pull against them in an unannounced game of tug-of-war have bumped into that powerful part of the iceberg below the surface. Those listening may not even be able to articulate why they feel such a resistance to the pastor or the biblical text. However, that resistance will continue to exercise a powerful influence, keeping members of the congregation from being able to hear and respond.

When we ask people to tell us what they think about our message, and when we listen long enough to find out how they came

to those thoughts, something astounding happens. When we listen to each other without being judgmental, changes begin to happen on both ends of the table. This is more than a matter of acting like we care; this is helping the person to express thoughts he or she may have never examined before. We ask questions to help the other person with selfdiscovery, and if we listen well, we will also find walls coming down.

D r aw i n g O u t t h e S to r i e s Th at H av e S h a p e d Pe o p l e

As preachers, we sometimes choose topics being fully aware of how certain parishioners will respond. We know just who will send the emails on Monday morning or even on Sunday afternoon before we get home.

However, before beginning that sermon series on a new creation eschatology, what if we were to listen first to what our parishioners already believe on the subject? No one comes to the study of eschatology or any other topic with a blank slate, but most people haven’t really thought about where their ideas came from. As pastors, our task of listening is important in helping people examine their beliefs. It takes long, safe conversations to get the whole story about how a person’s beliefs are formed.

If someone had asked me about my eschatology beliefs in my younger days while I was fresh out of my Nazarene home church, I might have answered like this:

I don’t recall really studying what the Bible says about eschatology, though I am sure my pastor presented sermons on it. I think I learned more about what happens when we die from what people said to me at a funeral when I was a girl. They said Grandma didn’t need her body anymore because she was an angel now or that she was already walking around in a new body. Those ideas brought me comfort. I learned about end times when my church hosted a drama one Sunday night a year in which people came down the aisle to the judgment and were sent either to the left, or to the right. I was particularly shaped by the fact that the

church chose my mother every year as an actress and had her carry a baby to the judgment. The baby was taken from her to heaven, while my mother went screaming into hell.

I learned about the rapture at youth camp when a scary end-times film was shown on the last night, and people ran to the altar to be saved.

I was always confused by the combination of the fearful and the hopeful in what people believed about end times.

Our parishioners have these stories, too, and the stories have a powerful impact until they are named, brought above the surface of the water, and examined.

Th e I m pact o f Li st e n i n g

When someone listens to us well, the hidden parts of the iceberg become more visible. This is essentially what happens in counseling. When I bring up the stories I have never told, significantly more iceberg rises above the surface of the water that I can name and critically examine. I am now more open to transformation. It is always important to name what is actually controlling us—this is why confession is good for the soul.

A good pastor-listener will be able to tell people what he or she has heard them say. “So, are you saying that your eschatology was formed by comments told to you from people you trusted, a church play, and a movie shown at a church event? These things seemed to bring positive results like comfort and people being saved. And you have always assumed those things together were a full picture of what the Bible teaches on the subject? That makes perfect sense.”

Listening well to people to help them name their assumptions and identify the experiences that have been vital to their spiritual formation can limit resistance. This act of naming can open a window for fresh air to blow from the Word and the Spirit. Listening is the pastoral tool most like a roto-rooter helping everyone know what the blockages are. Listening clears the pipeline for the flow of the Word and the Spirit through good preaching.

Th e Ki n d o f Li st e n i n g I s I m p o rta n t

As pastors, we need to practice a certain kind of listening to be able to do this. We don’t use the kind of listening that says, “You talk so I can see how to best argue with you.” Nor do we use the kind of listening that says, “You speak while I prepare my answer.” And we certainly don’t use the kind of listening that says, “Let me act like I care until you trust me, and then I can preach to you.”

In the kind of listening necessary for good pastoral work, we listen for the other person’s good, and we withhold two things— our own ideas or commentary and judgment. Can we sit for an entire session and listen well without feeling a need to immediately correct the speaker’s views?

Are we so bent on being heard that we miss out on the slow journey of learning and growth that happens when we deeply listen to our people? When we do this kind of listening, it raises questions that continue to work on a person.

We must practice patience to allow the naming of what is below the surface to do its work. As we pursue this behavior of patiently listening and helping people process their thoughts beneath the surface, the Holy Spirit will continue to transform lives.

KATHRYN MOWRY is professor of intercultural studies and Christian education at Trevecca Nazarene University, where one of her favorite things to teach is ethnography as a pastoral practice. Her ministry experiences include pastoral roles in urban churches and directing theological education across countries of the former Soviet Union.