Finding the Timeless Truth...Continued from page 2

Safe, ineffective preaching will leave the passage locked up in the beauty of its original setting. Those in the congregation who have an aesthetic appreciation for Bible knowledge might love such sermons. Most, however, will see those sermons as dry and useless.

Consider the plowing ox. What a nice picture the Word paints in Deuteronomy of an ox treading the grain. A paralyzed preacher will turn this passage into an art show, only holding up the beautiful image of God caring about the ox. Apparently Martin Luther did not believe the ox was the only one concerned here. When Martin Luther quoted this verse, he asked the question, "Does God care for oxen?" "No, of course not," he said, "because oxen can't read." It was written for us, not for the oxen.

Think now, can’t you see there is a principle underlying this command? It has to do with God’s tender care for all who serve. You can’t just paint a still picture of a far-off time. Look around. It is more like a window to what is happening around you. Paul, however, also recognized it was like looking in a mirror. He was the ox! And just like the Lord was concerned about any abuse of ox, the Lord was concerned that he, too, would treat and be treated fairly.

For years I described to others the two rooms that I lived in every week as I prepared my sermons. The first room of exegesis was musty and full of books. The lion’s share of my time was spent in that room and the only intention was to understand the passage in its original context. I wouldn’t leave that room until I was satisfied, because once I left, I felt I couldn’t return. I needed to walk out of that room with a crystal clear vision of the original message in its original context.

Some of my seminary professors and congregational listeners wanted to consign me to that room, and I must say I actually enjoyed myself there, but eventually it became evident when it was time to leave. In more cases than not, the ticking clock and the turning of the daytimer would force me out. I would then crawl over the wall to the next room of application.

Several years ago I led a seminar on preaching with a little group just south of the border, across the Rio Grande, and I used this illustration. Surrounded by secluded courtyards with shards of glass strewn along the top of the adjacent block walls, I painted the imagery of the necessity of spending sufficient time in the first area and then crawling over to the next. The setting made it appear as an overly painful experience.