Having preached regularly for some 12 years now,I still don't understand the way that some sermons that you feel are the very best you can manage fall flat as the proverbial pancake, while others, apparently deeply pedestrian, seem to take wing as you climb into the pulpit.
Tonight's words, for Evensong, were inspired by two particularly gruelling Sundays on the trot...the sort of Sunday that inspires good and wise friends to prophecy imminent breakdown if you don't get a grip sooner rather than later. I thought I had taken heed last weekend, but this Sunday saw me celebrating at 10.00, taking a First Communion class immediately after lunch, followed by attending a study group before Evensong, where I preached.After that, I did a quick teaching session for the Youth Group, before limping pathetically home, whimpering gently...and knowing that I had absolutely nothing left to give to anyone!
En route,though, I did preach this...which seemed to me less than dynamic, not madly inspired...and it produced a far more enthusiastic response than things I've been reasonably pleased with, even slightly proud of.
I repeat, I just don't understand!