June 22, 2010

The Metaphysics on Preaching

In preaching at a baptism, wake, funeral, or wedding, or to a particular group like religious or children, you can speak to a specific spiritual condition or state in life. Not so on Sundays; at the Sunday Eucharist we are all together, all degrees of devotion and all states of life are present. Sunday preaching is more of a challenge for precisely this reason; one must preach to all at once, but without being vague.

I was reflecting on this yesterday after re-reading this passage from the Philosopher himself:

Our attitude towards what we listen to is determined by our habits. We expect things to be said in the way in which we are accustomed to talk ourselves...Some people will not listen to anyone who does not talk in the manner of the mathematician, others will not listen to anyone who does not use illustrations, others again expect a poet to be adduced as an authority. Some people want rigorous treatment in everything, whereas others are annoyed by it, either because they cannot follow it or because of its pettiness; for rigorousness does carry with it something that makes some people feel that in arguments, just as in business transactions, it is rather illiberal. (Aristotle, Metaphysics, II:3, trans. J.L. Creed)


For me this captures the exciting challenge of Sunday preaching. To riff on the Philosopher, our attitude towards the homilies we hear is determined by our habits. Folks expect the truths of faith to be expressed in the language they themselves use, and rightly so, though preaching ought also to form and educate the faithful in sacral language and the precision of theological terms. Some people will not listen to anyone who does not preach in the manner of theological disputation, others will not listen to anyone who doesn't begin every homily with a funny story, while others are only satisfied if you can tie what you are trying to say into an example from some movie or Broadway show. Some people want rigorous treatment in everything, complete with citations from the Catechism, while others are annoyed by it, either because they cannot follow it or because of its pettiness; for rigorousness does carry with it something that some people find illiberal. (!)

This also means that if you preach to a few hundred people each weekend, there are bound to be folks who decide you are the best preacher ever. So they will be your encouragement. You just have to embrace the ascesis of not preaching to them alone.

3 comments:

Lee said...

It's a pretty amazing task. You're preaching the guy who is absolutely furious that he has to sit through three readings (three!!!) every Sunday, and the saint who is in the Eucharistic chapel every day and says rosaries morning, noon and night... the saint and the abject sinner, the totally uninterested and the man planning an embezzlement.

You're probably familiar with this, but Soren Kierkegard had a piece where he was considering the preacher and his congregation. The congregation imagines that they are the audience, and they critique the preacher on how well or poorly he does. But in reality the congregation is the performer and God is the audience, critiquing the congregation on how well they respond to His word and the preacher he has sent.

Of course, I am not doing his thought justice, but it was a striking image that puts things in perspective- the right perspective

Warren said...

I saw this, and immediately I thought of you. :-)

Warren

http://i.imgur.com/Wq22v.jpg
"Level 80 Cleric"

Caedmon said...

The situation you present doesn't require a congregation in the hundreds. I preach to a congregation of dozens and could never begin to make them all happy. :)