I wrote this post last week and never published it.
Two weeks ago it was not my week to preach. My friend, brother, and co-laborer Gary was scheduled to speak that week, something he does about once a month. But there was a problem: he had kidney stones. At first he was still planning on preaching as usual, which meant I would write my normal post for that week, but next he wasn't; able to preach.
I canceled my plans.
Instead, I started reading through the following week’s lectionary readings only to find that I was not struck by any stroke of brilliance, nifty insight, or point that pulled me towards it.
As I’ve written about before, I couldn’t see the existential urgency of the points I was drawing from the passage at first.
But I had a lucky break. Gary passed the stones on Friday, a day after we had planned to switch, so we swapped back.
I had an extra week to write that sermon.
So I sat, and I read, and I read commentaries, and I looked at the background, and I went on a hike, and I prayed, and I wrote and rewrote a sermon.
But something was just off.
Come Sunday.
The slides messed up for some of the songs so I had to redo them last minute. There was a funky smell of dead rat and musk in the fellowship hall.
I had planned on using Logos Bible software on my iPad from 2018 because I finally for the reverse interlinear for the NRSVue, something I’ve been waiting on since October of last yer.
But the app crashed then said I didn’t have enough storage to install the app (I did have enough according to the settings).
Then the handouts for that week got mixed up as they were being passed around. I had to use the Bible app on my phone and this literal translation I use to bring out different translations for the class.
Things went downhill from there.
I still didn’t feel my sermon, even while I was preaching it.
I thought it was true, and I thought it was good, but I was having an off day.
I had the wrong psalm down in my slideshow, and I could’t find which psalm it was supposed to be. This cut out about five minutes of my sermon.
After the sermon was over, I went to my seat to retrieve my phone to find the psalm to read following the closing song. I got my phone, went back to the front, but the Face ID failed and my passcode wouldn’t work.
Did it get reset?
Not, it was Laura’s phone.
Ugh.
I was in a bad mood for the rest of the day, I don’t really know why or what triggered it. Why did I have such a problem preaching through that passage? What was the hold up? Why did I feel off the Sunday?
I’m not sure what it was, but I have felt that way before, and I didn't like it then, and I don’t like it now.
So, Sunday night I decided to make some changes. I started doing body weight exercises which I will try to do three times a week. I also plan on closing my fitness rings on my iPhone every day. This means taking ~10,000 steps a day (600cal), exercising for 30 minutes, and standing at least once an hour for a minute for twelve hours every day.
Today I ran for the first time in months, something I actually love to do. I also started listening to North by Scot Jurek.
And honestly, I’m feeling better already, and, yes, I’m feeling this next sermon.
So I don’t know how much, if any, any of this has helped to get me out of my funk, but here I am, and I feel pretty good so far.
I feel you, brother. I've been there. One thing I wonder: how much of you taking it hard that your sermon didn't go the way you wanted is because you feel responsible for shepherding people's spiritual lives? I ask this because, like everyone, I get knocked off my game sometimes. But if I'm off-game at church, it bothers me way more. Last year, I finally pondered why this was. And while it's complicated, I came to realize that probably the biggest reason it bothered me was that, whether I'm doing a sermon, saying a prayer, singing a song, or leading a meditation, I felt like I was entrusted with people's spiritual lives for that space of time. So when I perceived I didn't deliver a message the way I wanted, it hit me hard. Then I realized that a) I'm not actually responsible for people's spiritual lives. I can play a role there, but only a small one; and, b) Even when I felt I didn't deliver the message I wanted, somehow it always seemed to come through anyway (thank you, God!). Now, I know your funk started pre-sermon, so this isn't about the "performance" on Sunday. But I do wonder if your funk is fed by how seriously you take your gift and your role in people's lives.
Solidarity brother. And solvitur ambulando!