How weighty and glorious is the burden you now carry, to stand before Christ’s flock and open the Scriptures. Do not think that this task rests on your own skill or careful preparation, though those are not to be despised. When I see you seeking prayers for anointing, wisdom, and boldness, I rejoice, for you have already grasped the first and greatest truth: the work of preaching is not a human work at all. Look at the apostles themselves. Before the Spirit came, they were timid and slow to understand. Yet once the Comforter descended, those same men were carried as on wings over land and sea, despising wealth and glory, and speaking with a boldness that made the world tremble. That change came not from study or clever illustrations, but from the power of the Holy Spirit clothing their words. So when you stand to preach, know that unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain that build it. Beg Him to speak through you, so that every syllable might strike the heart with divine fire.
Remember the calling of Paul. He did not become an apostle by his own wisdom; while he was persecuting the church, God took hold of him. Of the one who calls is everything; of the one called, nothing, except to obey. So it is with you. This sermon is not your performance to be admired, but an act of obedience to the God who summoned you. That should fill you with both holy fear and perfect confidence. Fear, because you handle the very words that judge the living and the dead. Confidence, because the outcome rests not on your eloquence but on the will of Him who sends you. Do you wish to be maximally effective? Then be maximally yielded, a clean vessel emptied of self. The apostles did not preach themselves but Christ crucified, and they adapted their speech to the real need of their hearers, leading them gently from what they could grasp to the deeper mysteries of the faith. So you, too, seek no other wisdom than to lift up the Man of Sorrows, risen and ascended, until every heart bows before Him.
Yet there is a higher calling still. In the earliest days, God did not give His people written words, but wrote His law on their hearts by the Spirit, because their minds were pure. To Noah, to Abraham, to Moses, He spoke face to face. It was only when we fell into the pit of wickedness that we required ink and parchment. Ah, how blessed it would be if your life itself were the sermon, a living epistle known and read of all men, so that the grace of the Spirit might replace the dead letter! Since we all fall short of that pristine purity, let us embrace at least the second best and cling to the written Word. But cling to it with such humility and such a thirst for the Spirit’s indwelling that the printed text becomes a flame in your mouth. Let your preparation be bathed in prayer, not merely organizing thoughts but begging that the Lord would etch His truth on the fleshy table of your own heart before you dare to speak it to others.
Do not measure success by human applause. The apostles, when they scattered the seed of the Gospel, often faced stripes and ridicule, yet they went on their way rejoicing because they had been counted worthy to suffer for the Name. The only goal worthy of that holy hour is to make the Father’s heart glad and to glorify His Son. If you pour yourself out like a drink offering, seeking no credit, the Spirit will bear witness to the Word, and some seed will fall on good soil. So go, not trusting in the enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power. May the Lord Himself be your mouth and your wisdom, so that when you open your lips, it is no longer you who speak, but Christ speaking in you, to the praise of His grace.