If you’ve seen or heard any TV or radio in the last few weeks, you’re aware that George Lucas’s last Star Wars movie was released last weekend, shattering box office records. Now, it’s true that I have a little more than a passing interest in the Star Wars™ stories. [For those of you who know me very well at all, insert outburst of laughter HERE.] I could certainly talk to you about the ins and outs of the galaxy far, far away as long as you want to listen. (And be careful these days, or I might!) But you won’t hear it from the pulpit."

    I have a few more decades to go before I plan to begin dishing out tips on preaching the gospel, but my friend’s suggestion is what I would call preaching a sermon for the example’s sake.

    There is a difference between being timely and topical and simply framing a semi-spiritual thought around a clever punchline, a sentimental story, or current events ripped from the headlines of today’s Fanfare section. If I sit down and start writing a sermon thinking, “Alright—what kind of lesson can I get out of Star Wars?” I’ve started from a perspective that immediately has me in a position to read things into Scripture that aren’t there.

    This isn’t to say that illustrations—even timely ones—aren’t useful from time to time. Christ taught using parables. Sometimes a plain Scriptural truth will manifest itself in the popular culture. Certainly the consequences of disobedience are on display all the time. Maybe even an unintentional slip in the language of the dogmatically secular will betray an inherent sense of morality or a wonder at the order and design of the universe. The basic truth and sense of God’s word is constantly supported by the goings-on around us. But we must be aware of the dangers of over-reliance on these.

    There’s supporting a lesson with illustration, and then there’s building your whole case on one. Coming up with a clever, memorable parable to illustrate a particular teaching does not immediately make that teaching true. What makes an illustration effective and appropriate is how well it supports and guides understanding toward a deeper Biblical truth.

    It’s a way to teach, but one tool among many. Alone, it offers nothing of value. In this way, storytelling is similar to the gift of tongues which first century Christians used in their assemblies—fine, when it accompanies an explanation of divine will, but easily abused to the point of making useless nonsense out of the assembly. “For if the bugle produces an indistinct sound, who will prepare himself for battle?” (1 Corinthians 14:8) If a preacher presents a lot of cleverness with little to no exposition of God’s wisdom, they have not prepared Christ’s soldiers for battle! You can have an anecdote that gets everyone in the same place regarding an abstract spiritual concept, or you can have an anecdote that is intended to “spice up” a dry sermon, to amuse an audience rather than “giving the sense” to the law of God (Nehemiah 8:8). Thus, the story overtakes the sermon.  “What is the outcome, then, brethren? When you assemble, each one has a psalm, has a teaching, has a revelation, has a tongue, has an interpretation. Let all things be done for edification” (1 Corinthians 14:26).

    How many funny stories do you remember hearing from a preacher that you can re-tell to this day? Do you remember what the story was meant to illustrate? Do you remember the Scripture he went on to employ? God’s truths are painted all over creation and human experience. When we use these to point to God’s truth, let’s work, as teachers and disciples, to remember our purpose and not get lost in the illustration.

    Will I be preaching a sermon around Star Wars any time soon? No—but I may get a bulletin article out of it.