Is the product of my life’s labor worthless?

Sermon note binders in pastor Ben’s library

Preaching the gospel is a strange thing. Observing from a human perspective, it seems rather simple and powerless. And yet, the humble appearance of preaching is in contrast to what Scripture declares it to be. Vested in the humble act of proclaiming the word of Christ is the power to save.

The church we attended while in seminary had a ministry at a local nursing home. They would send someone out each week to conduct Sunday services. Several times I was asked to lead these services and preach. It would just be me and someone who would play the piano. The nursing home staff would assemble the residents in the dining room where I would lead the singing of a hymn then preach. Some of the residents were aware that they were participating in the service, while others were not. Some would grow tired and fall asleep before I finished leading the service. I preached with all the effort and skill that I had but often wondered what real effectiveness or eternal impact I had.

Not long after my preaching debut at the nursing home, I had the opportunity to serve a small church in Garner, Texas. Though my primary responsibilities did not require me to preach every Sunday I did have the opportunity to fill in for the pastor occasionally. In my files, are the pulpit notes of these sermons. When I prepared to preach them, I spent many hours in study and preparation. When I took these notes to the pulpit to preach, I gave the very best of my ability. But now, when I reread these notes, they seem embarrassingly simple and elementary. I am thankful for the gracious patience of that congregation to give me the opportunity to preach, but I also wonder how such novice preaching could be used for God’s kingdom.

At this point in my ministry, I have crossed over the two-decade mark. As such, the shelves in my study are filled with many binders of my old sermon notes. Mostly they are notes from sermons preached during Sunday morning and evening worship services but there are also binders containing sermon notes from funerals, weddings, Bible studies, and other speaking opportunities. Some of these sermons are short and simple, while others are long and in-depth. Some of these sermons I remember well, while others have long been forgotten. At present, there are at least twelve shelves filled with binders of sermons. Each week I study, prepare, and write my sermon. Each week I print out my notes and place them in my leather preaching notebook. Each week I carry these notes to the pulpit and use them to proclaim the word of Christ to the congregation assembled. Each week, following the service, I remove the notes from the folio, staple the pages together, then file them away in a binder, and place it on the shelf beside other previously filled binders. These binders represent the tangle product of the labor of my adult life. They are neatly arranged on my selves as a testimony to past labor, but they also beckon some unsettling questions.

Will they be remembered? Every pastor desires that God would use his sermon to bring about a visible and great spiritual movement in the congregation. Each Sunday, before I walk to the pulpit, I ask the Lord to use the sermon to transform lives. But a humbling reality is sometimes there is no visible response to the sermon. Often people cannot even remember what was preached the previous Sunday. Sermons are not like popular songs that are requested to be replayed over and over again. Local pastors do not have the opportunity to preach the same sermon repetitively to hone and polish the presentation to be most effective. A pastor of a local church prepares a sermon each week only to peach it once before adding it to the archive files. If few remember what was preached week to week what power does preaching have in the lives of the congregation?

Do they matter? If the Lord gives me another 20 years of ministry, I will surely fill many more binders with sermons and more bookshelves with binders. But to what end? What value will these old sermon notes have? I have seen the consternation in older pastors who struggle with what to do with their own sermon notes. The yellowed and faded papers represent the work product of their life’s work, so they yearn for a more celebrated repository than the trashcan. Some give their files away to a kindhearted younger pastor unwilling or unable to say that they have no desire for them. Others maintain their files, unwilling to face the truth that no one wants them, leaving the task of their disposal to others. I observe this not with judgment but with the recognition that the same struggle is likely awaiting me. At the heart of this struggle is the question of worth. Do these old notes have any value? Do they matter?

The truth is my old sermon notes do not matter. My old sermon notes have no value or worth. My old sermon notes are not and will not be remembered. And the future of these collections of paper and binders is rightfully to be discarded when no longer in use. I say this not in self-loathing or in an attempt to garner your pity. I say this to point you to what really matters – the word of Christ preached, not the preacher. To remember a sermon or to publish the writings of a preacher generally has the effect of celebrating the preacher. Yet the power to save does not rest on the shoulders of the one proclaiming the word, rather it is contained in the word proclaimed.

Romans 10:13–14 (ESV) — 13 For “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” 14 How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?

The beauty of preaching is in proclaiming the word of Christ. The glory of preaching is in proclaiming the word of Christ. And the power of preaching is in proclaiming the word of Christ. Every pulpit, no matter how simple or grand, when the word of Christ is proclaimed, becomes a beacon of glorious hope. Every voice, no matter how common or refined, when used to proclaim the word of Christ, becomes a sweet sound. Every preacher, no matter how obscure or well known, when used to proclaim the word of Christ, becomes a choice servant of the King.

Isaiah 52:7 (ESV) — 7 How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”

So, come Sunday, Lord willing, I will approach the pulpit again with notes in hand, ready to declare the word of Christ. I will preach to those assembled the precious hope of the gospel. I will call sinners to salvation and wayward believers to repentance. Then, on the following Monday, I will file away my notes, with the joyful knowledge that though these papers will yellow and fade, the Word proclaimed, that is heard, and that leads to believing faith has eternal worth, beauty, and value before the God I serve.

Isaiah 55:11 (ESV) — 11 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.