Personal mush

This week has been super-eventful for me emotionally. So, a warning: this is going to be an uncharacteristically personal (navel-gazing?) post. A few weeks ago, I preached a sermon on 1 Corinthians 3 titled "Guidelines for God's Servants." The content was a little introspective and pretty spiritual--definitely not uplifting or "life-applicable," which is what people say when they want something that addresses normal folks' everyday lives. But the content wasn't bad. I mean, I just preached what was in the Bible, and if that's bad, then the Bible's bad. Not everything in the Bible tells you how to deal with your spouse or how to manage your finances. Some of it is spiritual, hard to understand, and causes us to reflect on our inward, not outward, circumstances.

Anyway, I guess I'm trying to justify myself because the delivery of the sermon was admittedly flat. Actually, it was intentionally flat. While preparing for the sermon, I had been totally destroyed by what Paul wrote at the beginning of the preceding chapter:
"When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power."

I was honestly very afraid of hyping people up with witty illustrations or my mannerisms. If the apostle Paul came with in weakness and fear, and with much trembling, then what about me? This was pretty much all I was thinking about during the worship, so that I remained glued to the podium and spoke in a very flat voice once I got up there. I wanted to speak whatever the Holy Spirit told me to, and do whatever He wanted me to do. I noticed there were several people asleep in the audience (which sadly isn't unusual no matter how dynamic the deliver). At the end of the sermon, I prayed and then asked the congregation to wait while I listened to God to see if He wanted me to conduct an altar call or do anything else. I closed my eyes for about 15 long seconds and didn't feel that God wanted me to do anything, so I told everyone they were dismissed.

No one broke down in tears, and there was no weeping at the altar. No wailing in repentance. So where was the demonstration of the Spirit's power?

Anyway, I received some encouragement and at least one elderly friend in the church gave me advice the next week on presentation. But then I began finding out that some folks were very displeased, e-mailing others bad-mouthing me, and criticizing me to my pastor, who had been out of town the Sunday I preached. This past Monday night, my pastor called me to ask for an explanation. That night, I was extremely upset and couldn't sleep. I knew I wasn't supposed to, but couldn't help listing all the reasons why others had no right to criticize me. Talk about defensive--I was ready for mutually assured destruction and thinking about how I could confront these people and put them in their place. In the dark, my heartbeat was racing as I struggled to keep those negative thoughts out of my mind. I wanted to bless my enemies and own up to my own faults, but I couldn't. And what was more, I couldn't sleep.

Finally, I thought back to a small group lesson I'd been writing about a critical attitude. One of the things I had learned was that we resemble Satan when we are critical of others. (In fact, Satan is Hebrew for "accuser.") That made me think of what Jesus said when Peter was trying to convince Him not to go to Jerusalem where He would die: "Get behind me, Satan!" I got up and began to tell the devil to leave me alone, convinced that the hyper-critical and prideful thoughts were from him. I lay down again, and it was a bit better, but I still felt resentful and sleepless. I went outside, brought my guitar into the spare bedroom and began worshipping God. After about 15 minutes of worship and prayer, I lay down again. I don't remember much after that, so I must have fell asleep pretty quickly.

The remainder of this week, God's been good to me. I've been able to focus on things that matter, not things that don't. I've also analyzed my performance and motivations more, and decided that "weakness and fear, and much trembling" is an attitude, and not necessarily an action. Next time, I'll speak louder, gesture with my hands, move around a bit, and maybe even try some godly humor.

Long post. I just wanted to write this out, sort of as a cathartic exercise. If you read this far, thanks for reading!