A Preacher's One Sermon
By Laura Tarro
Photo by Christian Harb on Unsplash
Throughout Advent I was struck by how my sermons all seemed to repeat the same themes: the difference between worldly power and the ways God operates in the world. It seemed repetitive to me. The scripture stories changed, but the theme remained the same. I was a bit embarrassed about it. But then I remembered this conversation Leif Peterson had with his father Eugene. What if the preacher only has one theme they keep repeating? What would be my one theme? Often as I’m preaching, I find myself looking out over the room thinking about how much I want these people to learn the character of God. I want them to examine and discard some of the damaging ways they’ve been taught to view God and learn to see the fingerprints of God everywhere. I want them to become so familiar with God’s character that they can spot imposters in an instant. I want them to be able to discern God’s way of doing things. This story of Epiphany pits two ways of being king up against each other. King Herod vs. the one born king of the Jews. I want our congregation to nod along and think: Isn’t this just like God to tell the story this way?
A Preacher’s One Sermon
At the memorial service for Eugene Peterson, his son Leif shared that he often teased his father that he “only had one sermon, one message”[1] after several decades of preaching.
Leif went on to say that all of Peterson’s sermons could be boiled down to the same message, “God loves you. He’s on your side. He’s coming after you. He’s relentless.”[2] Eugene Peterson’s one message was a particular way of viewing God.
I think this is probably true. Most preachers only ever preach one sermon and the sermon they preach says something about their particular way of viewing God.
Sometimes I wonder what my one sermon is. What is the particular way I view God and how am I conveying that to my congregation? I have a deep desire for people to understand the character of God. I want our congregation to become familiar with the ways of God, the words of God, and the love of God. I want them to be so familiar with God’s goodness and grace that they are able to tell imposters and pretenders from a distance.
The first Sunday in January, I’ll follow the lectionary and preach about Epiphany. It’s the story in Matthew 2:1-12 about the magi visiting one who had been born king of the Jews. They were looking for Jesus. This story includes a bit about a traveling star, an egomaniacal king, and a group of astrologers from a distant land who come to offer diplomatic gifts honoring a new sovereign ruler. The magi may not have fully understood the political situation into which they had waded.
One of the ways you can recognize God’s activity is that it turns worldly power upside down. God works through vulnerability and humility. God does not dominate. God does not coerce. God is invitational and offers love. God moves with power to protect God’s people, but this power operates with mercy and compassion.
A Tale of Two Kings
The story of Epiphany includes outsiders seeking the king of the Jews for the purpose of worshiping him. During their search, they encountered an imposter, a pretender, Herod the puppet king who had a tendency to slaughter his rivals and engage in gigantic building campaigns as a way to impress upon others his legitimacy. King Herod fits the worn-out pattern of worldly power. It’s so obvious that it’s boring: dominance, coercion, flagrant displays of wealth, violence, suppression of dissent, it’s all there.
When the magi approached King Herod looking for the one born king of the Jews, King Herod was greatly disturbed (Matthew 2:3). Why was Herod disturbed? There are four details of context it’s important to consider:
1. King Herod was not ethnically Jewish. His father was Idumean and his mother was Nabatean. These people groups were essentially distant cousins of the Jewish people, and his family had converted to Judaism a few generations before Herod was born (presumably for political reasons).
2. He wasn’t technically a king. According to Jewish tradition, Jewish kings were supposed to come from the line of David. Herod was not born into that family line. He was appointed king of Judea by the Roman senate.
3. He liked to build things. Herod is famous for rebuilding the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. This was just one of his many building projects. He built a large port city to improve trade, palaces, forts, sports venues. He placed a heavy tax burden on the Jewish people to finance these building projects. Some of these buildings were mean to earn the favor of the Jewish people, and many were meant to gain the approval of the Roman Empire.
4. He didn’t value human life (which is probably why all of Jerusalem was also disturbed by the news of a rival king). He had several of his sons (and wives) executed. According to Josephus, Herod feared no one would mourn his death so he wanted to invite a group of Jewish elders to come to Jericho and have them all murdered at the time of his death so the mourning of their deaths would coincide with his own death.[3] (We don’t know if this story is true or not, but apparently it fit with the perception of Herod).
Herod gathered the chief priests and the teachers of the law to ask where the Messiah was to be born. They told him right away, “In Bethlehem in Judea” (Matthew 2:5). Herod secretly asked the Magi when they first saw the star, then he sent them to Bethlehem, and told them to come back with the exact location so he too “may go and worship him” (Matthew 2:8). Bethlehem was only about five miles away from Jerusalem. It wasn’t a long journey. As far as we know, none of the chief priests, religious leaders, or King Herod made the journey to see for themselves.
The magi didn’t worship Herod. Instead, they continued their journey to Bethlehem, to find the true king. They found the one born king of the Jews in obscurity and poverty. Jesus wasn’t born in a palace. He had no visible trappings of worldly power. But make no mistake, his kingship was real and it will know no end. And this story bears the fingerprints of God.
God’s Character and Our Imitation
God’s ways are not our ways. God is not impressed by worldly ways of power and control. God’s love shows up in obscurity and on the edges with little visible power. It operates in righteousness and it pursues justice.
Our church plant meets in a bar in part because we value a setting that allows us to worship around tables. Each week, I pause in my sermon to give our congregation time to discuss two questions around their table: What does this story tell us about the character of God? What does this mean for us as followers of Jesus?
Learn to tell the difference between worldly power and the deeper ways of God’s kingdom. God’s rule does not dominate or coerce. God’s love is invitational. As followers of Jesus, we are called to imitate the ways of Jesus. As citizens of the kingdom of God, we are called to operate in a way that turns worldly power upside down in favor of God’s ways of humility, mercy, and compassion.
Look around you. Where do you see the fingerprints of God? Learn the character of God. Learn to imitate the ways of God, the words of God, and the love of God.
If that’s my one sermon, I feel good about it.
[1] https://www.christianpost.com/news/eugene-petersons-son-reveals-his-father-fooled-everyone-had-only-one-real-sermon-for-the-world.html
[2] Ibid.
[3] Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews, 17.6.5.
Thank you for these powerful words, Laura. And if that’s your one sermon, you should feel good about it. When our family visited your church the weekend we were in Chicago last year, that was a refreshing highlight for us.
Fantastic post. That you, Laura.