The Downside of a Good Sermon.

Preaching is such a strange thing...such an odd art.

Last weekend I felt nearly dead. Had been without a voice for most of the week.

When it's time for worship, though, it's time for worship. So I gathered up my notes (the manuscript is left in the office and I place a small card with some handwritten notes in my Bible), and headed across the street to preach. I wasn't sure I would get through all four weekend services.

But I did.

And, strangely enough, more than a few people told me it was the best sermon they have heard me preach in the last 12 1/2 years. One of the best parts of the message turned out to be a story I told about my youngest coming home from New York City on a Friday afternoon to ski with me. Being right outside the lake cottage when I was wondering where he was. It was a story I had not even thought of including in the sermon...didn't have it written down. A last- minute thing.

Just goes to show.

As I worked on the message for this weekend, I found myself feeling the pressure to match or top whatever God did in our worship last weekend. That kind of feeling is not a good feeling, let me tell you.

I think preaching is like prayer: it's the way a lifetime of it shapes you. Shapes others. Preaching is not a series of "talks" disconnected or isolated from one another.

That is what people miss when they are in worship only now and then. We have occasional attenders. They're sort of like someone who shows up at a restaurant every Thursday when the special is meatloaf and then they complain because of the lack of variety on the menu. They miss the All-U-Can-Eat Fish on Friday and the Pasta Night on Tuesday. They aren't there. And then they complain because the only special is meatloaf.

Sermons to a congregation are a conversation over the long haul. One message building on the other. Continuing a dialogue.

I don't know what this weekend is going to be like. Long ago I gave up predicting how a message would work...well or not. There is an unpredictable, Holy Spirit part of all this. Sometimes the preacher has worked hard, the pieces seem to be in place for a powerful moment, and things are flat. Other weekends you come exhausted, with a voice that has been reduced to a whisper, not sure if you'll make it...and God shows up in a convincing, powerful, soulful way. You never know.

Sermons are a dialogue...a continuing conversation as the congregation, the preacher and God travel together.

They are also a gift the preacher makes to Jesus. Like the rather crudely made clay bowls made by children in a kindergarten class, the sermon is my weekly gift to the Savior who loves me and died for me on the cross...who lives and reigns. "See what I have made for you this week, Lord" I say. Holding out what I have worked to make...

Looking for Wrenches and Getting Trained.

In the days leading up to Christmas I found myself curious. About the best gifts or surprises people had received for Christmas. I mean beyond those deep, profound, spiritual gifts of faith in Christ, joy, God-given peace, or the healing of a broken relationship. I mean stuff. Under the tree. Wrapped up (or not).

A couple of gifts stand out in my memory. One was an o-gauge railroad set. I was in first grade. I walked into the living room of our apartment in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, beneath the Christmas tree there was this red, yellow and silver Santa Fe engine with rolling stock. It was a pretty special moment!

The second gift I remember most clearly is a very simple, GE-stereo made out of dark green plastic. With that came a membership in the Capitol Record Club. Which was a big deal for a teenager stuck in northwest Alaska where the only AM station played country and western music -long before C & W was cool.

For the last several years I have wanted to buy a very simple train set. Something that could be easily set-up. Maybe placed under the Christmas tree.

The day after Christmas my oldest son and I headed out to an area box store to get some wrenches. While we were looking over the tools I noticed a red sign that said 50% OFF CHRISTMAS ITEMS & TOYS. I have a collection of toys at home and in my office. So I walked over and found myself standing next to several boxes containing Lionel 0-gauge train sets. I looked at the boxes...studied the description of the train sets. I looked up at the sign announcing 50% off.

I don't mean to be blasphemous or anything, but it was like this shaft of light poured down on me and that Lionel train set. I'm not sure but I could almost swear I heard choirs of sales associates singing, "I've Been Working on the Railroad."

So I picked up the box, checked out, and returned home. When I walked into the house I asked my wife, Sharon, to close her eyes. I'd gone out looking for a wrench and came home with an o-gauge Chicago & North Western railroad set.

It's nothing fancy. It's nothing complicated. But my 16-month old granddaughter enjoys running it with me. Our faces light up when the train goes by and Ella presses the button that makes the whistle blow. Bryan, our oldest son, and I were chattering like kids as we reviewed a catalogue of high-end model railroad stuff.

Sometimes you go out looking for one thing and you come back with a whole lot more than you ever bargained for. So much more than you ever thought you'd find...or have.

Deep, eternal, life-changing joy is always a God-given gift. Which is almost always connected to knowing...being loved by...Jesus. In addition to this, though, there are these delightful, little joy moments that make our eyes light up in good ways. A deeply discounted 0-gauge railroad set, for example. Where the cars light up and smoke rings come out of the stack on the locomotive.

It's fun having fun.

I think "lighting up" at the little, good things in life is one sign that we're fully alive.