Teaching? Preaching? Reaching.

And taking the twelve, he said to them, “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For he will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging him, they will kill him, and on the third day he will rise.” But they understood none of these things. This saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said. (Luke 18:31-34 ESV)

On Easter Sunday, our pastor's sermon began with a very unorthodox statement: "You don't have to believe in the resurrection to follow Jesus." I think I blinked once or twice before he took us back 2,000 years to those who followed Jesus...right up until he was crucified and died. I don't imagine his followers believed-- at that point-- in the resurrection, either. Many of Jesus' more prominent disciples (and I'm certain most of the rest of his followers) deserted him on Friday, probably wondering how he could have deserted them after all he had said and done. Our pastor moved on to dawn Sunday, emphasizing that there were no throngs of believers at the tomb with horns and palm fronds hollering hosannas, anticipating the Houdini-like emergence of the Resurrected Messiah. Only a few women (3 or so, depending on the account) showed up, believing that Jesus' corpse would be right where it had been placed after his death on the Cross. But then...

...well, you know the rest of the Easter Story.

In my opinion, our pastor's Easter Sunday sermon was the best I've ever heard, for a number of reasons, the primary one being that there were many visitors in the sanctuary listening (no doubt more than a few were the once or twice a year, family event kind). It was a message I wish many of my extended family members who don't go to church could have heard. The kind of sermon that spoke about a God who loves all sinners, but hates sin enough to have sacrificed His only beloved Son for us. The kind of sermon that preached the Gospel. The kind of sermon that reached out.

If you follow this blog, you know that I have only 65 days left as a high school teacher. Lately I have been thinking about-- maybe juxtaposing is a better verb-- the similarities of the vocation (calling) I'm leaving and the calling (vocation) I'm approaching. A tenet of the former is that with over-filled classes and students with varying amounts of abilities, motivation, and baggage (mental, emotional, medical, psychological, spiritual, the list is seemingly endless), we must strive to teach at a median level, yet reach every student with our message (each class, each day, each semester, each year, repeat). Most of us preach, in the secular sense, too-- stay in school, do the right thing, have respect for others, conduct yourself with integrity, think about the consequences of poor judgment, the list is seemingly endless).

What about the pastor on Sunday morning standing in front of his "class," though? In order of priority, I think that reaching is the most important aspect of a sermon. Rather than just, as the cliché goes, preach to the choir, how can a pastor regularly and effectively tailor a message that meets the needs of every visitor and parishioner? (Perhaps, I'll learn the formulae at seminary.) In this way, teachers and pastors share the tightrope...without a net...every interaction with students or the lost is an opportunity to coax them across. And not everyone can do it, either at the lectern or in the pulpit.

The sermon I heard on Easter surely reached every pew with Jesus' encouragement... "C'mon. Take that first step... I'm right here. You can do it! If you fall, I will save you!"

[If you'd like, you can watch/listen to our pastor's Easter message here.]

P.S. I found a question posed to the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod here that serves as a good illustration for my post.