Tuesday, September 27, 2011


I am often asked, “Brother Preacher, how in the world did you get so unbelievably talented?”

It’s an excellent question; one that I have often pondered myself at length.  It’s hard to imagine exactly how so much talent and raw personal charisma can be crammed into one humble Preacher like me.  It’s probably one reason for my huge head.  I’m not saying I’m arrogant, I just saying I have a huge head.  All that talent and charisma has to hang out somewhere.

Obviously, I was born with most of it.  I can’t remember a time when I did not have massive talent and influence.  I have a vague memory of being passed around a room and told how cute and amazing I was by everyone.  I also have a memory of the exact same thing happening when I was a little baby.  That first memory was from about two weeks ago.  Clearly my amazing-ness has always been an undeniable trait of mine.

But when it comes to pure preaching talent, I have to say that the training I received from my mother was invaluable.  She never preached herself but somehow knew how to tell me how to do it.  This was not unusual for my family.  I was also taught how to dive from my father...who didn’t know how to swim.  Which is why I tend to belly flop a LOT.

From the time I was barely able to walk, I was preaching under the tutelage of my mother.  While other kids were out playing army or climbing trees, I was in my room with my sister and my mother preaching to stuffed animals, eatin’ saltines and drinkin’ grape juice. 

PREACHER’S NOTE: NEVER baptize teddy bears.  They sink.

My mother would give notes on my pacing, my topics, even my gestures.  She was good.  She even worked out a series of signals she could do with her head that she would send me from the back of the church building to tell me if I was too loud, too quite, too fast, too slow.  She’s like a Preaching third base coach.

My best sermon back then was one about commitment.  It was called: “A Swing Or A Slide: What Kind of Christian Are You?”  (Hint: you wanna be a swing.)

One of the most valuable lessons I ever learned while enrolled in my mother’s “School Of Preaching” was the importance of ending a sermon properly.  Let’s face it: nobody ends a sermon better than me.  Don’t believe me?  Watch this...

As together we stand and sing.