This past week, I had the privilege of serving as the senior high youth speaker at Cedar Canyon Wesleyan Camp in Rapid City, South Dakota.
It was a great experience.
Some of my favorite college students
Admittedly, I have never considered myself to be a typical youth speaker. I am a college professor, an introvert, and a user of sermon illustrations that ranged (last week) from Soren Kierkegaard to David Foster Wallace.
Still, I marveled at how God used the time, not just in the lives of campers but also in my own life. The thirteen-hour drive home was a worshipful experience—which is saying something.
Cedar Canyon is a special place.
It’s beautiful, set near the Black Hills of South Dakota. And the Wesleyan camps there are planned and led by some of the most dedicated and enjoyable youth workers I’ve ever met. The music was phenomenal and the college teams served admirably.
Our tremendous and servant-hearted band from an unnamed university in Indiana
On many nights, leaders worked till wee hours of the morning prepping for the next day’s activities—e.g., packing pantyhose as powdered “paint bombs” to be used at Rec. time (just like the early church).
I mention all this because I sometimes hear church leaders talk about moving away from camps as a way to engage young people. I get it. They can be a ton of work. Some “boutique camps” are so expensive that one practically needs a FAFSA or a trust fund to attend. And it is often alleged that such experiences trade on emotionalism, a suggestive state, and a lack of sleep to “manufacture” conversions. That happens.
But it’s not what I saw last week.
What I saw was a group of counselors, youth pastors, and staff that genuinely care about young people, and each other. For days on end they planned, prayed, and worked their butts off to create an environment that was safe, fun, and spiritually rich.
As always, the results are up to God. Yet it was humbling to watch young people come forward to trust Christ, pray for one another, and sign their names on giant boxes to signify a call to ministry.
God used our week, and I was thrilled to be part of it.
Here’s a video that only covers Tuesday!
Signup here to receive bonus content through my email Newsletter (“Serpents and Doves”).
Each newsletter will contain material not available on the blog, including excerpts and info on forthcoming books.
I will not clog your inbox, and I will not share your email address.
“Preaching,” said the late, great Haddon Robinson, “is like playing the violin: it’s easy to do badly.”
If you’ve tried it, you know.
I teach preaching to college students. Yet I am acutely aware that I am still a novice. Like many pastors, I often sit back in my seat after the message with that line from W.E. Sangster running through my head: “Next time, I shall preach!”
Even so, the fact is that we preachers can learn a lot from the communication habits of non-preachers, like Malcolm Gladwell in his fantastic podcast: Revisionist History .
One of my most popular blog posts (here) was on another episode of Gladwell’s podcast. But this piece is on his most recent episode, entitled: “Malcolm Gladwell’s 12 Rules for Life.”
The title is misleading. Because while Jordan Peterson offers a dozen rules for living, Gladwell has only one:
“Pull the goalie.”
Without spoiling the episode, Gladwell’s basic point is this: In order to make wise decisions when others won’t, you need at least two things:
The willingness to follow data where it leads.
The stubbornness to be profoundly disagreeable.
Most of us have neither.
Hence, like the majority of hockey coaches, we refuse to “pull the goalie” till the very last minute, when tradition and opinion dictate–and when it’s already too late.
You’ll have to listen to learn what Gladwell’s rule has to do with
hedge funds,
poker players,
home invasions, and
the life expectancy of NRA members.
I won’t ruin it.
BACK TO SERMONS
My point is that preachers (like myself) could learn a lot from Gladwell’s podcast—and from this “puckish” episode particularly.
Here are seven lessons:
1. One point to rule them all
The first takeaway involves the elegance of a single, simple big idea.
Gladwell doesn’t give his hearers a list of points as I often do in sermons — because lists aren’t memorable (including this one).
Instead, he gives them one intriguing big idea: “pull the goalie.”
For as J.H Jowett argued:
No sermon is ready for preaching, not ready for writing out, until we can express [it] in a short, pregnant sentence as clear as crystal.
While this doesn’t prohibit a good sermon from having points (I’m working on one now for Sunday), it does mean that those movements should come in service to a single, simple big idea.
2. Short but pregnant
“Pull the goalie” is just three words.
But the phrase is “pregnant” because it demands unpacking. Its brevity gives birth to a variety of explanations and applications.
3. Enigmatic till explained
In fact, it needs unpacking because the phrase is enigmatic till explained.
Its meaning isn’t obvious (outside of hockey). In my experience, the best big ideas are often opaque at first blush. They require elaboration, despite their “stickiness.”
“Unless you hate your father and mother…” would be case in point.
4. Counterintuitive, not counterfactual
In preaching, as in life, “boredom is a form of evil” (another Haddon Robinson quote).
Thus the value of a counterintuitive message is its ability to get people interested. Getting someone to say “Huh…!?” means they’re listening.
“Blessed are the poor and persecuted…” does that.
But “interested” isn’t enough; the statement must also be true.
For Gladwell, the counterintuitive use of “pull the goalie” is supported by a mass of evidence from hedge funds to homicide statistics.
It’s “moneyball” for life. And while the strangeness is designed to suck you in, the data is designed to convince you once the “Huh?” wears off.
5. Applied specifically
While Gladwell’s research is often esoteric, he never fails to make it matter.
Hence “Pull the goalie” is applied to far more than hockey. As he argues, it could be the difference between life and death.
(Pay attention if you own a handgun.)
6. Qualified appropriately
In some cases, the difference between a fascinating preacher and a “fired” one is the ability to say something provocative and then move to qualify it appropriately.
One must anticipate the objections of the audience and then answer them in the sermon, as opposed to waiting for a series of angry emails (or board meetings).
Jesus didn’t always do that.
But he was God.
And also, they killed him.
7. Repeated
Unlike many of my mediocre sermons, there is no doubt about what Gladwell’s big idea is—because he repeats it with emphasis on more than one occasion.
“Pull the goalie.”
“Pull the goalie.”
“Pull the goalie.”
And by the end, it’s not some trivial bit of Canadian appropriation (though Gladwell is Canadian); it’s a rule for life–and preaching.
Like this post? Signup here to receive bonus content through my email Newsletter (“Serpents and Doves”).
Each newsletter will contain material not available on the blog, including excerpts and info on forthcoming books.
I will not clog your inbox, and I will not share your email address.
joshuamcnall.com 