The Quiet Gift of Pastoral Preaching

April 30, 2026

Early in ministry, I mistook volume for fruit. If the room was full, the sermon must have worked. If the stage was bigger, the calling must be clearer. It took me years to see I had the equation backwards.


Mark Christian drew a helpful distinction in a recent conversation on the Better Preaching Podcast: there is performative preaching, and there is pastoral preaching. Performative preaching walks onto a stage, earns the right to say a big thing, and says it well. It has its place. Camp messages, conferences, funerals for people you barely knew. Someone has to stand up and speak. We need preachers who can do that. But most of us aren’t called to live there.


Pastoral preaching is the slow work of opening the same Scriptures to the same people over a long stretch of years. It is not lesser work. It is harder in a different way. You can’t hide behind cleverness when the people in the pew watched you make coffee at their mother’s funeral. You can’t fake authority with a congregation that knows your kids’ names and has seen you on your worst Monday. You have to actually pastor, and the pulpit becomes less a performance stage and more a kitchen table where the family gathers to hear from the Book.


Here’s what I’ve learned: the preacher who stays gets something the traveling evangelist never will. You see the sermon land and then watch it grow. You preach on forgiveness in May and sit across from a reconciled father and daughter in October. You preach on generosity in November and watch the benevolence fund fill up by January. You preach a hard word on pride, and three families thank you for it six months later. That feedback loop shapes your preaching in ways no homiletics textbook can.


If you’re in year two or year twelve, and you’re tempted to think the real preaching is happening somewhere else, don’t believe it. Stay. Preach the text. Love the people. Let the Holy Spirit do the slow work.

On a recent Better Preaching Podcast episode, I asked Mark Christian for his parting word to preachers. He didn’t hesitate: “Let the text win. Let it win in you. Stand underneath it before you ever stand behind the pulpit.”

I haven’t been able to shake that line.

Let’s be honest; most of us don’t approach the text to lose. But we do approach the text to mine it. We come armed with an outline, a sermon slot, a series title already on the church app, and we start interrogating the passage to get it to confess what we need it to say by Sunday. The text becomes a witness we’ve subpoenaed. We’re the attorney. We ask the questions. We decide which answers make the cut.

That’s not preaching. That’s prosecuting.

Letting the text win is a different posture entirely. It means showing up on Tuesday without a predetermined verdict. It means reading slowly enough so the text has time to read you back. It means allowing the passage to ruin your first three ideas before it gives you the right one. It means getting uncomfortable in your own conscience before you ever figure out how to make your congregation uncomfortable in theirs.

You can’t fake this. Your people can tell the difference between a preacher who has wrestled with the text and a preacher who has merely researched it. The wrestled preacher limps a little. There’s a weight in his voice that commentary software cannot manufacture. He isn’t delivering information. He’s delivering testimony.

Here’s the ordering Mark got exactly right: underneath, then behind. If you haven’t stood underneath the text all week, you have no business standing behind the pulpit on Sunday. The pulpit doesn’t confer authority on your words. The text does. And the text only confers that authority on preachers who have been willing, privately, to be defeated by it.

This week, let it win. Let it corner you. Let it convict you before it comforts your people. Let it strip you of the clever turn of phrase you already had written in the margin. Let it hand you a harder word than you were hoping for.

Then, and only then, stand up and preach.

“And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.” (2 Timothy 2:2)

My Biological Ancestry

My family’s American experience began ten generations ago when my seventh great-grandfather, Johann Jacob Weller, arrived in America in 1737. Four generations later, my third-great grandfather—Johann’s great-great grandson—moved to northeast Indiana. That’s where he and four successive generations of Wellers rest at Cedar Chapel Cemetery. It’s where they’ll lay my bones one day to await Christ’s return.

My Spiritual Ancestry

As fascinated as I am with my family’s genealogy, I am more intrigued with my spiritual family tree. I wish there was a good website for tracing the ancestry of my spiritual fathers and mothers.

I learned about Jesus from my dad, Larry Weller. My childhood preacher, a man named Jim Platner, led my father to faith in Christ. Jim tells me he became a Christian through the influence of, among others, a preacher named Hank McAdams.

That’s as far back as I can trace my spiritual heritage.

If Brother McAdams were still living, I’d be fascinated to find out who told him about Jesus. And who told that person. And the one before.

In eternity I think I’ll have all the time in the world to meet every person in that long line reaching all the way back to Jesus. Jesus discipled Peter, who told Clement about Jesus, who told Ignatius, who told Polycarp, who told Irenaeus, who told someone, who told someone else, all the way down the line to Hank McAdams, Jim Platner, Larry Weller, and eventually me.

Christians Stand in the Middle

That’s because all those folks lived according to 2 Timothy 2:2—“And the things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.”

If you’re a follower of Jesus, you’re called to stand in the middle between the generation who led you to Christ and people who have not yet become followers of Jesus.

Preachers Stand in the Middle, Too

In 2020 I began meeting with a group of younger preachers for coaching and encouragement. These guys ranged from their late twenties to early thirties, and each were first-time preachers.

By that time, I had been preaching nearly every Sunday for twenty-three years, so I had a lot to say. I’ll leave it to them to decide whether I had much to offer.

We talked about preaching. We explored leading in the context of a complicated time in our nation’s history (remember, it was at the start of the pandemic). Our topics ranged from the mundane—like how to prepare a sermon—to deeply personal subjects like how being in ministry impacted our wives and children.

As I move into my fifties, investing in the next generation of servant leaders feels more important to me than ever.

There was a slogan on the wall of the chapel at the college I attended: “God give us preachers.” This rallying cry is as relevant and needed today as it was forty years ago when I first read it.

It is a prayer, but it is also a reminder that I am the answer to that prayer, because I stand in the middle between the preachers who taught me and the ones who will pick up the mantle of proclaiming God’s Word to a new generation.

Evangelism is the responsibility of every Christian. But it’s important that preachers understand their responsibility to stand in the middle pulpit.

Addressing Real-Life Challenges of Generational Cohorts

Relevance matters in preaching. Sermons that connect Scripture to pressing, real-life issues stimulate spiritual growth and help listeners navigate the complexities of their world.

This is the third in a series of five blog posts that will help you preach contextualized sermons to people who are different than you. This principle emphasizes that relevance is not about watering down the gospel but applying it meaningfully.

Understanding Generational Challenges

Each generation navigates unique challenges shaped by the social, cultural, economic, and technological changes during their lifespan.

Churches often excel in family ministry, but recognizing and empathizing with generational differences is essential to build and strengthen bonds within the church family.

Shifting from “Ought-To” to “How-To”

Preaching should move beyond telling the congregation what they should do and include practical instruction on holy living.

Listeners need to be told more than, “God wants you to serve.” They need to hear suggestions about how to serve.

Financial stewardship sermons should address the realities of debt and budgeting rather than only the principle of tithing.

Connecting Grace and Truth

Like Jesus, preachers should balance grace and truth.

Younger generational cohorts often distrust institutions that have failed them, making it crucial to preach God’s grace while also calling for honest repentance and transformation.

Examples of Relevant Topics

Preaching relevant sermons strengthens faith by showing the Bible’s practical power in daily life.

  • Navigating relationships and singleness with dignity and purpose
  • Managing financial pressures with biblical wisdom
  • Dealing with disappointment and unmet expectations in life and faith
  • Finding hope and identity beyond consumer culture and social media

This can be challenging, especially for preachers who are accustomed to preaching expository sermons.

When ministers preach only verse-by-verse sermons, congregations benefit when pastors find ways to address relevant topics within the scope of their preaching calendars.