There is no particular advantage to being seriously unreadable. The same can be said for preachers. Don’t preach sermons nobody wants to hear. As I see it, preaching has two priorities: to faithfully proclaim the message of Scripture and to be heard by God’s people. Or, put another way, the preacher aims to provide good food which the people are glad to eat. Good food cooked well is appetizing, even if you aren’t hungry. Let the cook work her magic, and the hungry will be fed.

Even so, the preacher’s job is to lead the sheep to green pastures and get them to eat. He shouldn’t need to force-feed the people. Good food, well-prepared and served piping hot is very persuasive. So, good preaching takes care to preach the Bible (expository is best) and to preach it well, so the people will “attend with interest to the message being preached” (to borrow a phrase from John Milton Gregory).

Preaching must engage the congregation, or you fight as one that beateth the air. Preach to the people. Love the word you preach and love the people you preach it to. I encouraged my wife not to make her meals an opportunity to discipline the kids. Feed the kids what they need and like to eat. She’s been stellar at that. I love God’s Word and His church; therefore, I aim to serve food I love so they will love it, too.

Many have criticized expository preaching as dull and boring. As that criticism isn’t entirely false, we should discuss how we might interest the church in the message. Every discipline has both a science and an art. Science gives the theory, the fundamentals, the rudiments that define the discipline. Art teaches the practice, the application of the fundamental rules. In this post, I will set forth a kind of “science of interest.” What makes a sermon interesting? What is fundamental to engagement? What makes a congregation want to listen?

I’m not typically a big fan of alliteration (parallelism is more effective), but I have an outline that isn’t forced (as alliteration tends to be). Here are four “M’s” of Interest: Motion, Metaphor, Mystery, and Mirth.

Motion

The point of preaching is to move the audience. The sermon must move from introduction to conclusion so the audience can follow. When the sermon moves, the people will be moved.

We are more interested in things that move than we are in stationary or sedentary things. That’s why we would rather watch a freight train chug across a valley than stare at a vase or a garden tool. You won’t get a big-time TV contract for your chess club, even if you recruit some of the most famous chess players in the world. We love to watch football; baseball is a game made for radio.

Even so, a sermon that moves is an interesting sermon. Circling the drain is motion (and can be mesmerizing). It certainly beats a stagnant pond where the only movement comes from bugs and frogs. But linear motion is best. An interesting sermon moves from point A to point B.

Modifying an idea I took from Haddon Robinson’s homiletical masterpiece, good sermons have a bow, an arrow, and a target. Think of the arrow as the whole sermon, the target as the point you wish to make in the sermon, and the bow as the outline that launches the arrow to the target. Or perhaps, think of the sermon as the freight train, the outline as the train tracks, and the sermon’s point as the station.

Identify the target before you aim and fire. Otherwise, what do you aim at? Is it your goal to spend your arrows, or do you want to hit something? Even so, the preacher should have a target in mind. The church shouldn’t be the target. Settle in advance why you are preaching this sermon, what you hope the result will be.

Hopefully, you aren’t preaching because that’s your job, or because you have a preaching slot to fill, or even because you “wish to be a blessing.” That kind of purpose will “produce sermons that resemble a dropped lemon meringue pie – they splatter over everything, but hit nothing very hard” (Robinson, p. 71).

Your purpose should be directly related to the passage you preach. It shouldn’t be disconnected from it. Robinson recommends that the preacher write out the passage’s point in one sentence. From that “exegetical idea,” he should write out a clear, brief, lively, and memorable “preaching idea.” From there, he should identify the target and write one concise “should” kind of sentence (Robinson, p. 72).

Once the preacher has identified the target, he should plan how to get there. Think of your outline as the vehicle for moving the congregation from the text to the target. Or better, these are the steps you will take to make the point.

In many ways, Biblical preaching must be persuasive in nature. Every passage of Scripture is profitable (as Paul insists) for “doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” Your purpose for preaching the passage should be related to at least one of those categories, perhaps more than one. But godly believers don’t want to be told what to believe or do. They want to see it in Scripture (Acts 17:11). If they see it in Scripture, they are happy to do it.

So, the preacher must persuade the congregation first that the passage makes the point he takes up in his sermon. Once he demonstrates that the passage makes this point, he must set forth the applications available from the passage and persuade the people that they ought to believe or do what the passage teaches.

An interesting sermon gives the people the sense of being moved in clear steps from passage to purpose.

Metaphor

The distinction between preaching and wordsmithing is negligible (with apologies to my conscientious friends). Preachers deal with words. Words are the vehicle that conveys their thoughts. Therefore, preachers ought to perfect their craft. Learn the power of words. Interesting preachers use words in interesting ways, and dull preachers use words in boring, uninspired ways. “Punchy” preaching requires sharp, lively, active language. You won’t get your point across if your words hit like feather pillows and marshmallows.

For this reason, I recommend that preachers spend time learning more about words. Maybe I’ll write more about this in the future (if you’re interested). But God didn’t make words to resemble a deflated balloon.

The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd. (Ecclesiastes 12:11)

Words aren’t random collections of letters. They are the foundation of everything.

By the word of the LORD were the heavens made; and all the host of them by the breath of his mouth. (Psalm 33:6)

Quite literally, our world is made of words – the words of God. This is why metaphor works. God made a world where words have a vital connection to the things we see and do. In fact, it is impossible to think of anything in our world apart from the words we use to describe them. Learning to harness the power of words and work them to your purpose is the work of preaching.

Metaphor has been defined as that which is distinct from and yet closely related to something else. Simile, personification, allegory, and analogy are all species of metaphor. All work on the principle that “everything is metaphor” because everything is closely related. We are surrounded by visible words of God.

And that’s why, if I tell you that a guy’s life resembles a spilled puzzle, you will know what I’m saying. Spurgeon once drew from the carnival knife-throwers who could outline a person’s body with their knives. He compared them to some preachers: skilled at the art of missing. P.G. Wodehouse offers some of the finest descriptions known to man: “he was as broke as the Ten Commandments,” “oaks with a history and rhododendrons with a past,” “they hit it off like ham and eggs,” “she turned him down like a bedspread,” “She looked like a tomato struggling for self-expression,” and so forth.

If you want to be interesting (and isn’t that the point?), use vivid words in fascinating ways. Your language should rise to the occasion like a world-class bull rider. Rake those spurs and make it pop. Eschew obfuscation. If your autobiography could be called “Fifty Shades of Vanilla,” at least determine to be French Vanilla or Vanilla Bean. Don’t be plain old vanilla. Limit the use of the polysyllabics. Only use a million-dollar word to make a million-dollar point. Get yourself a blue-collar vocabulary. Let it smell like leather and tongue oil instead of dusty old libraries or ivory towers.

Mystery

There is a reason why shows like Law and Order, the CSI family, and countless other crime shows dominate evening television. We love mysteries. May I suggest that a preacher include a little mystery, wherever possible, in his sermons? Never blurt out the surprise if you can save it for the key moment in the sermon. Build anticipation.

People generally want to know where they are going, and they love being surprised. This explains the popularity of formulaic shows like Law and Order – and Hallmark movies. The formula tells us what to expect. And we love it if something unexpected happens. We love to guess what is coming. We love to be right. We love it more if we are wrong (unless the surprise is forced). This is the paradox of public speaking. People love a good joke, especially if they don’t see it coming. They love it even more when they saw it coming.

I don’t think the preacher abuses his audience if he keeps a few cards up his sleeve to drop out of nowhere. Again, the point of preaching is to move the audience. When you surprise them, they are much more likely to appreciate what you preached. And they are much more willing to be moved if they appreciate the preaching.

Besides, our goal is not to fill the hour. We aren’t marking time. We aim to shape hearts and minds and lives. If the sermon is forgotten before the people leave the auditorium, it is hard to insist that the preacher did his work. People remember mysteries, because they find mystery delightful. If the preacher promises a surprise and delivers on that promise, he will find his audience much more willing to go along.

One of my favorite examples comes from I Samuel 23, where Saul traps David and his men against a rock in the wilderness of Maon. The surprise comes in vv. 26-28, when Saul has David surrounded, and God delivers David by the hand of the Philistines – an upside-down deliverance if there ever were one. Another wonderful surprise comes from the tale of Ehud. We should always ask why God included a particular story in the Bible. What does God want us to know from this story? When considering the story of Ehud, it seems that the narrator goes out of his way to paint Eglon and the Midianites in the most comical light possible. We can imagine the old men of Israel re-telling the story of Eglon and his tough time on the toilet as both kids and adults howl with laughter. It seems that this is the story’s point: to make us laugh, to give us joy, to cause us to rejoice in the power – and humor – of Almighty God.

If you wish to be interesting, keep a surprise in your back pocket and drop it on the people at the ideal moment. That leads us to the final element of “punchy preaching:”

Mirth

Preach with a twinkle in your eye. I hear so many preachers who sound like they’re mad at everyone. “Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

Our people deal with anger all week. The world operates on it. At work, they hear an endless barrage of gossip, slander, criticism, obstinance, bad attitudes, frustration, irritation, and the endless crabbing of every Karen in the company. When the church gathers, they look forward to the joy and delight and laughter and good cheer and hope and rejoicing that should characterize God’s people. The preaching should set the tone.

Don’t feel the need to vent your spleen every Sunday. Don’t let your pulpit turn into the whipping post. If you don’t, don’t be surprised if the people lose interest. Our Lord has begotten us again to a lively hope. Our sermons shouldn’t sound like the death of hope. Nothing will interest your people more than your delight in the Lord and your love for His Word.

Preacher, if you are prone to peevishness, if you tend to be a little cranky and contrary, get yourself in a good mood before you begin writing your sermon. Spend time in the Psalms, pour your heart out in praise, and delight yourself in the Lord. It should be a rare occasion when you preach like a hot volcano. More often, your preaching should be like warm bread from the oven of heaven (thank you, John Hamblin). Crankiness is not a fruit of the Spirit.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23)

Final Thoughts

I wouldn’t want to admit that I ran out of “M’s” and couldn’t think of an “M” for this one. But I insist that the key to being an interesting preacher – the one thing I left out that must not ignored – is to be an interested person. Interested people are interesting. Be curious. Read. Explore. Watch YouTube videos – the long ones where people explain their ideas. Get a subscription to Audible. Meet people. Learn their stories. Read great literature. Go slumming from time to time with shabby junk. Read about people. Spend time leaning on a shovel and talking to your neighbor. Read people you disagree with. Watch their presentations on YouTube. Don’t listen to contradict always. Try to understand other viewpoints.

The great preachers of yesteryear loved science. Jonathan Edwards wrote a whole notebook of observations about spiders. Solomon wrote about ants and coneys and the horseleach’s two daughters.

Copiousness – the full and abundant supply of ready language – doesn’t come from poverty of provision. If you wish to have a warehouse stocked with the richest language and the finest illustrations, you’ll need to stock the shelves. Good illustrations don’t come from The Encyclopedia of 7700 Illustrations. They come from living a full, abundant life. Fill your mind with good stuff, and you’ll always have an ample supply.