Monday, November 11, 2013

HOMILY AND THE HOMILIST


THE HOMILY AND THE HOMILIST

Part I
            The ancient Greeks taught that a successful speech should be a balanced combine of “logos”, “pathos” and “ethos”. “Logos” is the intellectual content of the message. “Pathos” refers to the emotions aroused that motivate the listeners to accept the message. And “Ethos” is the moral of the story, the behaviour or decision that the speaker urges on the audience as the fruit of the message. 

LOGOS:         The liturgical readings of the Mass provide the matter for the logos or the content of the message. The homilist chooses the passage most suited to the congregation’s needs, bearing in mind that our “Logos” is Jesus Christ, the true Son of God and son of man, who communicates his supernatural life through his humanity. Jesus is far more than an ethicist or politician or academician. Thus the homily is not a performance by a moral or spiritual super-Christian whose virtuosity mutates into moral or cultural condescension. Rather, it is a humble and prayerful effort to articulate the truth and allow it to stand equally against congregation and preacher. The truth challenges us to engage with the flawed and failed human beings that we actually are. To be real and to reveal the person that God and sees and calls and chooses and loves. Failing to draw on the wellsprings of faith, the homily will urge substitutes for it in the form of trivial and reasonable codes of conduct or shrill advocacy of absolutes and platitudes for individuals and society.

                        Pre-Vatican II sermons were not scriptural. In those days the biblical heritage was transmitted through, all but hidden in, the Church’s doctrine. The preacher didn’t need to wrestle with the text; that had been done for him. A personal experience of the Word was lost in such an approach. Everyone knows the difference between seeing a Harry Potter movie and merely reading a review of it. An experience of the symbol is life transforming; an explanation is not.
Transformation happens when Scripture and the Church’s understanding of it take possession of the preacher and the preached to in their contemporary situation. The Christian community’s understanding of divine revelation has no still point. You don’t have it all when you close your last book in the seminary – that’s just the beginning.
            Study, contemplation and experience are the three main requirements for good homilies. His own experience of God, of his people, and of life in general will make the priest a mature and relevant speaker, conscious that the material of his sermon is all around him. Preaching is somewhat like holding the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other.

PATHOS                    We homilists mount the podium with as much imagination as a bombay duck or hilsa fish !  What we need is a story to help us make sense of our conundrums of conscience. We need a narrative that is sustaining as it is tragic, but which gives the push in the direction of virtuous options. Far from being a churchy computer ready with a recital of statistics or dry scholarly quotes, the priest in the pulpit is a symbol, a sign that says more than words can express, a very icon, indeed, opening the way to God. What one learns from the Bible is that one must constantly engage with the values of the time, that the Christian must proceed in the world in a human way without losing the sense of the mystery within. We depend on the Bible for the great formative stories of who we are, the world, and the purpose of the human community.
             Stories drawn from everyday life grip the people’s imagination, hold their attention, touch their feelings, and make it easier for them to remember what was said long after the preaching is finished. The narratives of Jesus’ infancy, ministry and passion are themselves powerful motivations for the listeners. So also are the stories that reveal Christ’s compassion. St. Paul noted that the power of the Cross stood at the centre of his preaching: “I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor 2,2).

ETHOS                      Ethos deals with the desired Christian attitude or conduct that Jesus asks of us in this homily. To achieve this, the homilist can be evocative, provocative, or plainly logical. Much depends on how the homily was developed, the preacher’s temperament, the need of the worshippers, and the features of the situation. Jesus, teacher par excellence, used such approaches to elicit faith conversion from his hearers. His stories and parables challenged their moral presuppositions and offered paradigms for faithful living. The Good Samaritan story left the wonderstruck listener figuring out the answer for himself. His “woes” and “hard sayings” served as provocation, and his Sermon on the Mount and Last Supper discourse were confrontal, plain and directive. Thus the preacher, who is in touch with reality, will avoid hectoring and self-righteous admonitions and doomsday warnings. Rather, framed as summons in a spirit of faith, his crisp and sturdy moral challenges will compliment the dignity of the faith listeners. “The test of a preacher is that his congregation goes away saying, not ‘What a lovely sermon,’ but, ‘I will do something!’” (St. Francis De Sales)


Preaching – II

GOOD HABITS  -  GOOD METHOD

Part II

                                                                   
                        The best preparation for the weekly homily is Christian living.  The preacher who is charitable, generous, kind, thoughtful, prayerful, loyal to the Church and ever in touch with Christ, and willing to go out of his way for others will carry those qualities with him to the lectern. Listening to the stories and questions of his people will help him understand the issues that affect them. His homily can be a moment of saving grace as he celebrates the spiritual growth of his people, calls the unreconciled to forgiveness, and invites the sinful to conversion. The homilist who reserves some quiet time for himself to relate to Jesus each day will have a way of keeping the intractable human problems he deals with within a faith perspective. If he has acquired the (heaven-blessed) habit of reading, especially biography and history, he can rely on a reserve of illustrative material for homilies as well as a fund of fresh ideas for his ministry. Faith competence allied to intellectual alertness serves the preaching ministry well.
                        Preaching is hard work; it never gets easier. No amount of gimmicks or Internet surfing serve as surrogates for sitting down and deciding what one is going to say. Tuesday, before the following weekend, is not too soon to project what one wants to talk about. The parish council may help the priest, but in the last instance his work is a lonely one  -  alone with God and the pell mell of his thoughts, and never without the people in his heart. He must make up his mind, pick the point, or central thrust, and develop it.
                        The first point is to have only one point. A rifle shot pierces more surely than buckshot. The speaker who tries to be all things to all people at every homily winds up being nobody to anybody. Disciplined attachment to the one-point homily partly accounts for the panache and conviction that hearers look for in a sermon. Driving home a point is the point! Naturally, there can be subdivisions, examples and applications, but they must be strung together to provide robust service to the point at hand.  "Digressionitis" is the malignant malaria ("bad air", read "gas") of all preachers, the merciful antidote to which is "one point brevity". If a ten minute homily is too long, and five minutes too short, then for the good of all one could settle for a seven minute expose.
                One way to test what the homilist really wants to say is to notice what is in the last paragraph of his text. The bottom line conveys what he wanted to say in the first place. After observing what he put at the end, he could take a look at the often tortuous route that led to the conclusion. It may occasionally be necessary to "slay your darlings": those smart asides, compelling anecdotes, spot Bible quotes, slivers of ancient wisdom, etc., that one had fondly banked up for a fitting moment, because they have nothing to do with the point, and it would be artificial to strain a connection. It may pain the homilist to discard those glinting gimmicks, but the homily will be healthier and the audience heartier for the pruning.

PERSON vs. FUNCTION              
                                                            Clothed in vestments and stationed at the lectern, the homilist can become all role and no person. His diction is marked (marred) by affectation, strange voice cadences and a brittle vocabulary. He resorts to theatrics, bombast and contrived emotion. The role suffocates the person. He has forgotten that the role should mean witnessing to the faith of the Church, not losing his personal identity, or assuming one, like the Nutty Professor. He allows those to whom he ministers to see who he really is, not some image of who they think he should be. Good preaching begins the day the preacher's real self does the talking, which means taking the Christ who is in his heart and offering him to the waiting assembly. He looks into the eyes of his people, reads their reactions, and lets their faces and feelings teach him. He engages in a communion of persons, reaching out in love for one another in the mystery of Christ. People do not listen to preaching, they listen to witness. If they happen to listen to preaching it is because the preacher is a witness. Vacuous preaching comes out of the mouth of a man who doesn't believe what he is saying. Practising the message here means trying to live up to Christ's demands, even if one is constantly muddling through. After all, the preacher is, like the rest, a pilgrim, not a saint. The key to being a faith witness is staying the course with loyalty, even if it turns out to be a long haul. Parishioners know the difference. They can tell when the preacher is working at his faith and when he is not. People today are not willing to accept bad preaching. They react more vocally and more publicly than our ancestors did, and justifiably so. Hopefully their reactions will force priests to re-evaluate their priorities.
                        Tongue happy homilists tell good stories and sound verbal trumpets and drums as they arrive at their stirring conclusions. They speak with the tongue of angels. But if they have not faith and love, they have fed God's people with nothing, only nourished their own egos. People need the bread of honesty, not the stone of misleading enchantment. The other sort of preacher takes refuge in being "too busy", and yet another who is plain lazy. They wait until Saturday to put a few frantic thoughts together and absolve themselves by a complacent reference to their week's worth of good works. Preachers are not immune to sloth. The lazy words they distribute at liturgies do more than bore the people. Their listless homilies offend the community of believers. Christ asked them to feed the multitudes, but they fail to bestir themselves to do it. The bread of the preached Word should be so tasty as to entice the people to partake of the Bread of the Table. The preacher is enabled to bring Christ's Gospel of Salvation and the Kingdom of love, justice and mercy to their personal and professional lives, their neighbourhood and to the world itself.
                                    St. Paul once said, "I am eager to preach the Gospel" (Rom 1, 15). When we feel like that we know that God will bless our preaching ministry.                                                                                          



 

GOOD HABITS  -  GOOD METHOD


                                                                     
                        The best preparation for the weekly homily is Christian living.  The preacher who is charitable, generous, kind, thoughtful, prayerful, loyal to the Church and ever in touch with Christ, and willing to go out of his way for others will carry those qualities with him to the lectern. Listening to the stories and questions of his people will help him understand the issues that affect them. His homily can be a moment of saving grace as he celebrates the spiritual growth of his people, calls the unreconciled to forgiveness, and invites the sinful to conversion. The homilist who reserves some quiet time for himself to relate to Jesus each day will have a way of keeping the intractable human problems he deals with within a faith perspective. If he has acquired the (heaven-blessed) habit of reading, especially biography and history, he can rely on a reserve of illustrative material for homilies as well as a fund of fresh ideas for his ministry. Faith competence allied to intellectual alertness serves the preaching ministry well.
                        Preaching is hard work; it never gets easier. No amount of gimmicks or internet surfing serve as surrogates for sitting down and deciding what one is going to say. Tuesday, before the following weekend, is not too soon to project what one wants to talk about. The parish council may help the priest, but in the last instance his work is a lonely one  -  alone with God and the pell mell of his thoughts, and never without the people in his heart. He must make up his mind, pick the point, or central thrust, and develop it.
                        The first point is to have only one point. A rifle shot pierces more surely than buckshot. The speaker who tries to be all things to all people at every homily winds up being nobody to anybody. Disciplined attachment to the one-point homily partly accounts for the panache and conviction that hearers look for in a sermon. Driving home a point is the point! Naturally, there can be subdivisions, examples and applications, but they must be strung together to provide robust service to the point at hand.  “Digressionitis” is the malignant malaria (“bad air”, read “gas”) of all preachers, the merciful antidote to which is “one point brevity”
                One way to test what the homilist really wants to say is to notice what is in the last paragraph of his text. The bottom line conveys what he wanted to say in the first place. After observing what he put at the end, he could take a look at the often tortuous route that led to the conclusion. It may occasionally be necessary  to “slay your darlings”: those smart asides, compelling anecdotes, spot Bible quotes, slivers of ancient wisdom, etc., that one had fondly banked up for a fitting moment, because they have nothing to do with the point, and it would be artificial to strain a connection. It may pain the homilist to discard those glinting gimmicks, but the homily will be healthier and the audience heartier for the pruning.

PERSON vs. FUNCTION              
                                                            Clothed in vestments and stationed at the lectern, the homilist can become all role and no person. His diction is marked (marred) by affectation, strange voice cadences and a brittle vocabulary. He resorts to theatrics, bombast and contrived emotion. The role suffocates the person. He has forgotten that the role should mean witnessing to the faith of the Church, not losing his personal identity, or assuming one, like the Nutty Professor. He allows those to whom he ministers to see who he really is, not some image of who they think he should be. Good preaching begins the day the preacher’s real self does the talking, which means taking the Christ who is in his heart and offering him to the waiting assembly. He looks into the eyes of his people, reads their reactions, and lets their faces and feelings teach him. He engages in a communion of persons, reaching out in love for one another in the mystery of Christ. People do not listen to preaching, they listen to witness. If they happen to listen to preaching it is because the preacher is a witness. Vacuous preaching comes out of the mouth of a man who doesn’t believe what he is saying. Practising the message here means trying to live up to Christ’s demands, even if one is constantly muddling through. After all, the preacher is, like the rest, a pilgrim, not a saint. The key to being a faith witness is staying the course with loyalty, even if it turns out to be a long haul. Parishioners know the difference. They can tell when the preacher is working at his faith and when he is not. People today are not willing to accept bad preaching. They react more vocally and more publicly than our ancestors did, and justifiably so. Hopefully their reactions will force priests to re-evaluate their priorities.
                        Tongue happy homilists tell good stories and sound verbal trumpets and drums as they arrive at their stirring conclusions. They speak with the tongue of angels. But if they have not faith and love, they have fed God’s people with nothing, only nourished their own egos. People need the bread of honesty, not the stone of misleading enchantment. The other sort of preacher takes refuge in being “too busy”, and yet another who is plain lazy. They wait until Saturday to put a few frantic thoughts together and absolve themselves by a complacent reference to their week’s worth of good works. Preachers are not immune to sloth. The lazy words they distribute at liturgies do more than bore the people. Their listless homilies offend the community of believers. Christ asked them to feed the multitudes, but they fail to bestir themselves to do it. The bread of the preached Word should be so tasty as to entice the people to partake of the Bread of the Table. The preacher is enabled to bring Christ’s Gospel of Salvation and the Kingdom of love, justice and mercy to their personal and professional lives, their neighbourhood and to the world itself.
                                    St. Paul once said, “I am eager to preach the Gospel” (Rom 1, 15). When we feel like that we know that God will bless our preaching ministry.

                                         
Preaching Profit:
              Three small boys were bragging about their dads. The first boy said, “My dad writes a few short lines on paper, calls it a poem, sends it away and gets ten dollars for it.”
“My dad,” said the second, “makes dots on a piece of paper, calls it a song, sends it away and gets twenty-five dollars for it.”
“That’s nothing,” declared the third boy. “My father writes a sermon on a sheet of paper, gets up in the pulpit and reads it, and it takes four men to bring in the money!”


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