I was at the

Georgia Baptist Assembly in Toccoa, Georgia a few years back attending

a week-long "Camp Farthest Out," CFO for short, which is basically

a week-long Christian family summer camp. Although originally populated

mostly by Episcopalians, CFO has become much more interdenominational

in recent years. I was either there because it was the year I was the

camp's worship leader or because it was the year that my wife was one

of the keynote speakers and I was allowed to tag along because she needed

a chauffeur and butler. In any event, it's a week packed with activities

for every age group, prayer times, teachings, fun, and good speakers.

During a moment

of rest, several of us pastor-types were in the lodge area swapping stories,

most likely about some of the dumbest things that parishioners have done.

Hey, laypeople have "roast preacher" for Sunday dinner sometimes,

so why can't ministers occasionally enjoy a meal of "marinated member?"

Anyway, as I finished a story and everyone was enjoying a belly laugh,

David Cooper who was a pastor in Athens back before he became The Reverend

Doctor David Cooper, senior pastor of Atlanta's huge Mount Paran Church

of God leaned over and said, "Now was that the truth, or were you

just preaching?" The question caught me so off guard I almost forgot

to swallow that swig of Diet Coke.

What a great

question! Jesus, the greatest preacher and teacher of all time, would

sometimes begin a teaching with the word, "Verily," especially

when he wanted to drive home a point or when he wanted to make sure that

his audience was really listening. If he really wanted them to get it,

he would do a double verily, as in "Verily, verily."

Now "verily"

is a King James English word that nobody ever uses anymore. One never

hears in a McDonald's, "Verily, I say unto thee, giveth thou me a

Quarter Pounder with cheese but holdeth thou the onions." No, we

now translate "verily" as "truly." Or. "Truly,

truly," in the case of a translated double "verily." It

was a way of saying, "Okay, you thickheaded morons, everything I've

taught is vitally important but if you don't get this part you are up

the Chattahoochie without a paddle." Verily.

Cooper's comment

made me think about how much fertilizer is often mixed in with sermons.

Now fertilizer, especially the naturally occurring kind, is a good thing

to put on lawns and rose bushes. All of that manure helps things grow.

But as an ingredient in sermons, it just makes the whole thing, well,

smell.

I remember

hearing of a sermon where the minister said that, "Jesus is the eschatological

manifestation of the ground of our being, The kergyma who would, in his

infinite eminence send forth the Paraclete." Huh? What? "Whom

do you say that I am?" Jesus once asked those closest to him. "You

are the Christ, the Son of the living God," Peter said to Jesus.

Bingo. Good answer. No fertilizer here. Just understandable truth.

Then there

are the "formula preachers," the guys whose sermon titles read

like the Self-Improvement section at Barnes and Noble. Titles like "Seven

Steps to a Happy Marriage." "Five Steps to Walking in Victory."

"Ten Steps to Receiving Your Healing." Speaking of healing,

did anyone ever notice that, when Jesus healed people in the New Testament,

he never, ever did it the same way twice?

My favorite

is "Successful Steps to Raising Teenagers." Har-de-har-har!

Find that formula and you'll write a book that will outsell Harry

Potter. Successful Christian living can't be broken into steps. God is

the kind of being that cannot be analyzed and reduced to "steps,"

even if we long for this easy way of "being spiritual." Verily.

Or what about

gimmicks? I remember several years ago I coerced all my ministers and

singers to dress in combat gear for the Sunday evening services. I taught

a series about "fighting the enemy," or some such subject, and

thought it would be cool to have everybody in "jungle cammie"

fatigues and combat boots to illustrate the point. Besides, I thought

it would get a bigger crowd. I found a photograph of one of those services

the other day and was profoundly embarrassed.

I read about

a minister once who swallowed a goldfish once during a sermon for some

reason, which I now forget. Another minister, in delivering a sermon on

"Kicking in the Teeth of the Devil," did a karate kick during

the sermon and accidentally put his foot clean through the sheet rock

behind the pulpit. What an idiot. I was that idiot, by the way. Not the

goldfish guy idiot, the karate guy idiot. I don't remember who the goldfish

guy idiot was. What fertilizer, what manure.

In my quest

to be less of a preacher and more of a truth teller, there are three questions

I now try to ask myself regarding sermons: (1) So what? If the people

leave church saying, "so what?" the sermon is an abysmal failure.

(2) What now? What do I want the people to do as a result of the sermon?

A good sermon requires some response, hopefully one that will change life

for the better. (3) Is it the truth? Is it true? Will this stand the test

of time or have I said or done something that is just full of manure and

devoid of divine grace? If not, the people may have had a good time and

even may have been entertained but, in the end, as David Cooper says,

I was just preaching. Verily, verily.

[Father David

Epps is rector of Christ the King Charismatic Episcopal Church, which

meets Sundays at 8 a.m. and 10 a.m. in new facilities on Ga. Highway 34

between Newnan and Peachtree City. He may be contacted at [email protected].]