I read a lot of terrific preaching books, but usually I read them to learn a particular skill—like how to preach without notes, get better at storytelling, or apply various sermon forms.
The two volume set Preaching the Manifold Grace of God,* edited by Ronald J. Allen, offers something different, however.
These books aren’t so much about how to preach, although there is plenty in them to apply to our sermon crafting.
Rather, these books describe who we are as preachers.
This two-volume set locates each of us at the particular crossings between our denominational preaching traditions and our theological perspectives.
They locate us in holy place and time by reminding us where we come from, why we theologically overlap with other preachers, and why at times we clash—and describe the preaching gifts and shadows of each.
In short, these two books articulate our theological preaching backstories.
We are already preaching those backstories whether we know it or not.
We can’t help it: The faith tradition that formed us did so by forming our theological DNA.
Some aspects of those backstories belong in the pulpit. Others, though, may not.
But how do we discern? Are we aware of what we’re saying and where it came from?
As with any aspect of our backstory, the more we recognize the ideas, events, and beliefs that shape us, the less prone we are to fall prey to blindspots, biases, and unexamined perspectives.
These books make the job of self-examination and awareness much easier.
Over two volumes, 30 preachers author 30 chapters covering 12 theological traditions, and 18 theological preaching families.
The first volume examines historical theological traditions while the second focuses on more recent preaching perspectives, from evangelicalism to postliberal, queer, and womanist theologies.
Reading them will help you identify which aspects of your and other traditions and contemporary perspectives you may be preaching.
With that understanding, you can be discerning in bringing the best of your traditions and perspectives to the pulpit in service of forming your people to live like Christ, and hopefully avoid the worst.
Understanding Historical Theological Families
Volume 1: Historical Perspective of Theological Families
Some of us were born, raised, trained, ordained, and serve in one tradition.
Most of us, however, have wended our way through at least two traditions, been significantly influenced in our training in ecumenical seminaries or by virtue of cross-registrations in theological consortiums, and some serve in or have been ordained in more than one.
We and our listeners have consciously and unconsciously absorbed the one and many traditions of which we have been and are a part.
But what are those traditions, exactly?
With ecumenical boundaries blurring and more fluid movement across denominations, we cross-pollinate our theologies without recognizing the distinct flowers from which each came.
In so doing, we can fail to emphasize the best of our traditions, avoid the worst, and can accidentally co-opt others’ without understanding their historical and theological contexts.
Serving as both reference and theological refresher, this first volume explores these traditions:
Orthodox
Roman Catholic
Lutheran
Reformed
Anabaptist
Anglican/Episcopal
Wesleyan
Baptist
African American
Stone-Campbell
Friends
Pentecostal
As Allen writes in the Introduction:
“I hope these volumes contribute to preachers becoming more aware of their distinct heritages and thinking critically about aspects to preserve as well as dimensions that are better set aside” (p. xi).
For instance, I learned that the word “individualism" was introduced by Alexis deToqueville as a critique against American society back in the 1800’s because he saw us as pursuing personal interest over and against the common good. Baptists at that time and since “believed that conversion to Christ was always a matter of individual conscience resisting cultural norms” (Robert Stephen Reid, “Preaching in the Baptist Theological Family,” p. 192).
Reading this prompted a question: As individualism seems more entrenched in American society—and preaching—than ever, has this Baptist theology of individual conscience been hiding in plain sight for the rest of us all along? Is this theology a way to understand our current culture?
Learning about others’ theological traditions not only prompts questions about their influences on contemporary society and church cultures, it can help us see common theological ground, where differences remain, and ask whether they still should.
Understanding Contemporary Theological Families
Volume 2: Theologies of Preaching in the Twenty-First Centuries
Hand ten preachers of the same tradition the same text and they’ll preach ten different sermons even if they all preach denominational orthodoxy.
Why? Because our denominational traditions only form part of our backstories.
One of those ten preachers might preach from a Liberal theological family, another from a Postliberal, another from a Neoorthodox, others from Queer, Feminist, Womanist, or Postcolonial, and still others from several others theological famlies.
We throw labels around like someone has preached a “liberal” or “conservative” sermon and think we know what we mean by them.
This volume articulates a sermon’s contemporary theological perspective in all its nuanced theological glory.
With eighteen theological families and authors represented, each chapter offers a preaching context and a sermon with commentary about that perspective’s approach, characteristics, gifts and limitations.
For instance, this pulled me up short. Preachers in the Asian American feminist theological family may preach the vision of the Asian American world as “an alternative exodus community working liberation from oppressive and marginalizing structures. In this recognition process, the theology of the pilgrim community encourages collective awareness of the things that oppress and collective movement against the vicious manifestions of discrimination and dehumanization” (Eunjoo Mary Kim, “Preaching in the Asian American Feminist Theological Family,” p. 198).
For at least some in the Asian American community to experience themselves as part of “an alternative exodus community” took my breath away for the hardships I wasn’t aware they traverse, and prompted a new empathy for a culture that is not my own.
Because of this and other such illuminations, this volume is no less than enlightening.
Who are you?
Which traditions formed and continue to form you?
Which theological perspectives do you preach from?
Which preachers confound you and cause you to ask “What were they thinking?”
If someone asked you that question, would you be able to answer?
If you’re not sure, or would like to know your theological self better, you don’t have to read all thirty chapters.
Read the ones that sound most like (and unlike you to understand yourself by contrast), refresh your memory of your own tradition, and get some of your burning questions about others’ answered.
You’re guaranteed to know your self better, and understand your colleagues more than ever.
*I was gifted this two-volume set by the publisher in exchange for writing about them, but at my complete discretion about the format, nature, length, and content. I genuinely recommend these books and am happy to use an entire blog to tell you why.