I distinctly remember being a new preacher and feeling pressure to pack everything I could into the first sermons of what would become a six-year pastorate. Having been a sole or senior pastor for the entirety of my career, weekly preaching has been the cornerstone of my life in ministry. In that very first year especially, there wasn’t a nuanced reference from the commentary that didn’t make it into my Sunday sermon. There was just too much good stuff to pass along. Who cared if connecting the points required a parallel degree in Tetris or Sudoku? It took months before realizing “Oh, right, I’m going to have the chance to preach on this passage more than just once.”

Twenty-five years, and over 1,100 sermons later, I still struggle with self-editing. Taking ideas out of a proposed message is always harder than finding more things to add. Similarly, wrapping up the message is never as easy as finding creative ways to begin it. Even though I understand that “Act III is really written in Act I,” I often feel at the end of the sermon like a marathoner stumbling their way to the finish line.

If I have grown as a preacher over these two-and-a-half decades, it would be the result of two primary practices I have incorporated into my preaching life. The first was the decision to preach from beyond the pulpit and without notes 10 years ago. I had experimented with this off and on during my first two pastorates, before fully embracing it at the beginning of my third. I still draft a sermon in written form. I simply deliver it without notes. While this method may not be for everyone, it has made me a more conscientious preacher. The delivery becomes far more conversational, which is something I enjoy; the eye contact more intentional and consistent; and because of this, I feel more accountable for the words I’m saying. Preaching beyond the pulpit helps underscore in my mind that I am never preaching to the congregation but with them. I am a fellow traveler on the way and the words I speak in the sermon are as much for me as they are for anyone else.

The second was reciting the scripture for the day from memory (in our worship, we typically focus on one reading per Sunday). I was first introduced to memorizing scripture during a preaching class in graduate school and in my early preaching years, I would recite the Passion Story from memory every year as the sermon on Palm Sunday or Maundy Thursday. Years later, I memorized the entire Gospel of Mark and dramatically recited it as a solo performance during the Lenten season. In recent years I have worked with a film professor to learn how more effectively to move with meaning. And on a recent sabbatical, I chose 30 of the better-known psalms and memorized them as part of my own spiritual practice.   Memorizing makes the Word come alive for me in a way that simply reading it does not allow. It naturally engages my imagination and offers a connection to the emotions of the writers of scripture, as well as to their world and context. I still read commentaries and other writings about the text for the week, and though self-editing continues to present its challenges, memorizing scripture and preaching from beyond the pulpit help me recognize what should be included in the message and what can be edited out of it.