Someone, I believe it was Calvin, but I can’t be certain, once said that it would be better for the preacher to break his neck ascending the steps to the pulpit than to preach a sermon that he has not first preached to himself.

Okay. I get that. But at the risk of sounding hopelessly schizophrenic, what if I preach it to myself, and I don’t listen? That one twists me in knots.

You may not have noticed, but those of you who are in churches on Sunday are being preached to by someone who is NOT Jesus Christ. Oh, there are times he might imply otherwise, but believe me, he is not.

No one has ever mistaken me for Jesus. However, I have been called to preach the gospel, to preach what Jesus preached and to speak God’s word before a congregation of God’s people. Can a sinner do such a thing?

As preachers we represent a truth which is greater than we are. We preach a standard that exceeds our ability. We expound a word which is divine. It is all beyond us. If we are not humbled by that, then we are not really thinking carefully enough about what we are called to do.

It is right for a congregation to expect a preacher to model what he preaches. Hypocrisy in the pulpit is disheartening to a congregation and dishonoring to God and damaging to the Gospel. And yet at the same time, no man speaking God’s word will be able to completely represent, embrace, enact every truth he is expected to expound.

How dare a sinner preach? And how dare he expect others to listen? Such questions inspire two thoughts. One must be held dear by the preacher, the other must be embraced by the congregation. And both involve grace.

First, a congregation must expect its preacher to sin. They ought to judge a man’s preaching primarily by how faithfully he brings biblical truth to them. The faithfulness of his life is so important and so critical and so necessary and yet it will always fall short of the message that he preaches. Congregations must look with grace upon their pastors as fallible men who struggle with sin and belief in a way similar to other Christians.

Preachers, like other elders, certainly are held to a higher standard, and yet they are not perfect men. They will struggle and they will fail. How much struggle and failure is acceptable is worthy of debate. But preachers must be seen as men on the same road of sanctification as us all. So, look upon them with grace.

That’s the first thought. The second is this: Preachers must rest ever more heavily upon the grace of God. We must be willing to admit our struggles and our weaknesses. Our repentance must be as transparent as possible. Though we might not be able to live the commandments or even always understand all that we must about the mysteries of God, we must have no question or uncertainty about our status before the Father. We must know the gospel and find our rest in that gospel and not in the accolades of people or the supposed perfections of our lives.

Thus, no matter what we preach, our primary message is grace, because it is this gospel of God’s grace which assures us and our hearers of God’s unwavering favor. And it is this same gospel which impels us as we step down from the pulpit to live more and more for God’s glory, and not our own.

The one thing we cannot be in the pulpit is pretentious and fake.

It has been said that the pew seldom rises higher than the pulpit. That is, the passion and commitment and conviction of the hearers will not be greater than that of the preacher. If this is true, it is daunting to those of us who are aware of our grave faults.

But it as well reminds us that the ONE message which we can bring to a congregation is a message that we can preach to ourselves (and embrace) as we climb the steps of the pulpit: that message of grace which draws us to God and sends us into the world.