What’s It Like To Be A Preacher?

A little bit holy and . . .

What’s It Like To Be A Preacher?

With a sense of awe, someone asked me what it’s like to be a man of God and get to preach every Sunday. I told them it is was the deepest and holiest of events that took place in my life when God called me to preach. I never took it lightly. I spent years studying so I could be the best preacher I knew how. I went to preaching seminars and retreats to learn from the best. I listened to and read other people’s sermons.

When I got my first church, I established and practiced a life of study and prayer around preaching. I spent 15-20 hours a week praying over, crafting and writing what I hoped was pleasing to God. I tried to make my sermons uplifting, instructive and inspiring.

I worked on intonation and cadence. I wanted to find my own voice, my own style. I practiced. I filled my sermons with illustrations hoping to connect people to both the Word and God.

Some days when it was all said and done, I wasn’t sure I was as faithful as I could have been. I often confessed my short comings and apologized to God, promising to do better. And started on the next sermon.

But occasionally, just occasionally, everything came together in a moment of perfection. The study was focused with new insights. All of the elements of preparation fell into place. The ideas and the words felt like they were coming directly from God.

Then on those Sundays, as I preached I understood what Martin Luther King Jr. meant when he said, “I’ve been to the mountain.” I understood what John Wesley said, “I felt my heart strangely warmed.” I could feel God’s presence and the fire of Holy Spirit flowing through me.

On those Sunday’s I felt like a prophet or Peter preaching at Pentecost. It wasn’t that I sought that feeling. It was more like the joy, responsibility and the audacity of speaking for God to God’s people overwhelmed me.

I would take a little extra time in the Sanctuary thanking God for being with me. Almost floating home on that spiritual high, I’d walk into the house knowing I had been in the very presence of God. With a satisfied smile I’d walk into the kitchen where my beautiful wife would be preparing lunch.

In the midst of her preparations, she’d walk over and give me a kiss. Then she would say, “After you change of your suit, the trash needs to go out,”

That’s what it’s like to be a preacher.

Being a preacher, pastor is a little bit Holy. And a whole lot of just plain ordinary.

Thanks for stopping by.

Grace and Peace,

Billy