Preaching through 1 Thess....

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Posts 15
cc Matthews | Forum Activity | Posted: Wed, Dec 1 2010 6:15 AM

any helps,encouragements,wisdom for a very young preacher? This will be the first time I preach through a entire book...

Thanks in advance

Posts 251
Pastor James | Forum Activity | Replied: Wed, Dec 1 2010 6:34 AM

Relax, pray, be filled with the Holy Spirit, and enjoy. Break it into understandable chunks, make each week stand on its own for those who missed the previous week(s), but also make it a unified message from week to week. Most of all enjoy the blessing you will give and receive from preaching through a book. I prayed for you while writing this reply and will continue. Good luck and God bless.

Posts 15
cc Matthews | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 3:33 AM

thank you!

would you mind looking at my vague outline?

Posts 251
Pastor James | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 5:04 AM

I would be happy to help in anyway possible.

Posts 273
Brad Fry | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 5:39 AM

One of the best things you can do seems the most obvious but is often over looked. Read 1 Thessalonians over and over and over again. And while you're reading, observe from every angle. I've always liked this story from John MacArthur's "Rediscovering Expository Preaching" (http://www.logos.com/product/654/rediscovering-expository-preaching).

Preach the Word!

From "Rediscovering Expository Preaching":

At the risk of seeming to violate my own guideline of keeping illustrations short, I offer the following lengthy story about the great nineteenth-century scientist Louis Agassiz and how he taught one of his students an unforgettable lesson about the importance of observation. The principles it teaches can be applied to our Bible study.

The Student, the Fish, and Agassiz

By the Student

It was more than fifteen years ago that I entered the laboratory of Professor Agassiz, and told him I had enrolled my name in the scientific school as a student of natural history. He asked me a few questions about my object in coming, my antecedents generally, the mode in which I afterwards proposed to use the knowledge I might acquire, and finally, whether I wished to study any special branch. To the latter I replied that while I wished to be well grounded in all departments of zoology, I purposed to devote myself specially to insects.

"When do you wish to begin?" he asked.

"Now," I replied.

This seemed to please him, and with an energetic "Very well," he reached from a shelf a huge jar of specimens in yellow alcohol.

"Take this fish," said he, "and look at it; we call it a Haemulon [pronounced Hem-yuµ lon]; by and by I will ask what you have seen."

With that he left me, but in a moment returned with explicit instructions as to the care of the object entrusted to me.

"No man is fit to be a naturalist," said he, "who does not know how to take care of specimens."

I was to keep the fish before me in a tin tray, and occasionally moisten the surface with alcohol from the jar, always taking care to replace the stopper tightly. Those were not the days of ground glass stoppers, and elegantly shaped exhibition jars; all the old students will recall the huge, neckless glass bottles with their leaky, wax-besmeared corks half eaten by insects and begrimed with cellar dust. Entomology was a cleaner science than ichthyology, but the example of the professor, who had unhesitatingly plunged to the bottom of the jar to produce the fish, was infectious; and though this alcohol had "a very ancient and fishlike smell," I really dared not show any aversion within these sacred precincts, and treated the alcohol as though it were pure water. Still I was conscious of a passing feeling of disappointment, for gazing at a fish did not commend itself to an ardent entomologist. My friends at home, too, were annoyed, when they discovered that no amount of eau de cologne would drown the perfume which haunted me like a shadow.

In ten minutes I had seen all that could be seen in that fish, and started in search of the professor, who had, however, left the museum; and when I returned, after lingering over some of the odd animals stored in the upper apartment, my specimen was dry all over. I dashed the fluid over the fish as if to resuscitate it from a fainting-fit, and looked with anxiety for a return of the normal, sloppy appearance. This little excitement over, nothing was to be done but return to a steadfast gaze at my mute companion. Half an hour passed, an hour, another hour; the fish began to look loathsome. I turned it over and around; looked it in the face—ghastly; from behind, beneath, above, sideways, at a three-quarters’ view—just as ghastly. I was in despair; at an early hour I concluded that lunch was necessary; so, with infinite relief, the fish was carefully replaced in the jar, and for an hour I was free.

On my return, I learned that Professor Agassiz had been at the museum, but had gone and would not return for several hours. My fellow students were too busy to be disturbed by continued conversation. Slowly I drew forth that hideous fish, and with a feeling of desperation again looked at it. I might not use a magnifying glass; instruments of all kinds were interdicted. My two hands, my two eyes, and the fish; it seemed a most limited field. I pushed my finger down its throat to feel how sharp its teeth were. I began to count the scales in the different rows until I was convinced that that was nonsense. At last a happy thought struck me—I would draw the fish; and now with surprise I began to discover new features in the creature. Just then the professor returned.

"That is right," said he; "a pencil is one of the best of eyes. I am glad to notice, too, that you keep your specimen wet and your bottle corked."

With these encouraging words he added,—

"Well, what is it like?"

He listened attentively to my brief rehearsal of the structure of parts whose names were still unknown to me: the fringed gill—arches and movable operculum; the pores of the head, fleshy lips, and lidless eyes; the lateral line, the spinous fin, and forked tail; the compressed and arched body. When I had finished, he waited as if expecting more, and then, with an air of disappointment,—

"You have not looked very carefully; why," he continued, more earnestly, "you haven’t seen one of the most conspicuous features of the animal, which is as plainly before your eyes as the fish itself; look again, look again!" and he left me to my misery.

I was piqued; I was mortified. Still more of that wretched fish! But now I set myself to my task with a will, and discovered one new thing after another, until I saw how just the professor’s criticism had been. The afternoon passed quickly, and when, towards its close, the professor inquired,—

"Do you see it yet?"

"No," I replied, "I am certain I do not, but I see how little I saw before."

"That is next best," he said earnestly, "but I won’t hear you now; put away your fish and go home; perhaps you will be ready with a better answer in the morning. I will examine you before you look at the fish."

This was disconcerting; not only must I think of my fish all night, studying, without the object before me, what this unknown but most visible feature might be; but also, without reviewing my new discoveries, I must give an exact account of them the next day. I had a bad memory; so I walked home by Charles River in a distracted state, with my two perplexities.

The cordial greeting from the professor the next morning was reassuring; here was a man who seemed to be quite as anxious as I that I should see for myself what he saw.

"Do you perhaps mean," I asked, "that the fish has symmetrical sides with paired organs?"

His thoroughly pleased, "Of course, of course!" repaid the wakeful hours of the previous night. After he had discoursed most happily and enthusiastically—as he always did—upon the importance of this point, I ventured to ask what I should do next.

"Oh, look at your fish!" he said, and left me again to my own devices. In a little more than an hour he returned and heard my new catalogue.

"That is good; that is good!" he repeated, "but that is not all; go on." And so, for three long days, he placed that fish before my eyes, forbidding me to look at anything else, or to use any artificial aid. "Look, look, look," was his repeated injunction.

This was the best entomological lesson I ever had—a lesson whose influence has extended to the details of every subsequent study; a legacy the professor has left to me, as he has left it to many others, of inestimable value, which we could not buy, with which we cannot part.

A year afterward, some of us were amusing ourselves with chalking outlandish beasts upon the museum black board. We drew prancing star-fishes; frogs in mortal combat; hydra-headed worms; stately craw-fishes, standing on their tails, bearing aloft umbrellas; and grotesque fishes, with gaping mouths and staring eyes. The professor came in shortly after, and was as amused as any, at our experiments. He looked at the fishes.

"Haemulons, every one of them," he said. "Mr. ______ drew them."

True; and to this day, if I attempt a fish, I can draw nothing but Haemulons.

The fourth day, a second fish of the same group was placed beside the first, and I was bidden to point out the resemblances and differences between the two; another and another followed, until the entire family lay before me, and a whole legion of jars covered the table and surrounding shelves; the odor had become a pleasant perfume; and even now, the sight of an old, six-inch, worm-eaten cork brings fragrant memories!

The whole group of Haemulons was thus brought in review; and, whether engaged upon the dissection of the internal organs, the preparation and examination of the bony framework, or the description of the various parts, Agassiz’s training in the method of observing facts and their orderly arrangement was ever accompanied by the urgent exhortation not to be content with them.

"Facts are stupid things," he would say, "until brought into connection with some general law."

At the end of eight months, it was almost with reluctance that I left these friends and turned to insects; but what I had gained by this outside experience has been of greater value than years of later investigation in my favorite groups.

The same kind of prolonged pondering of the Scriptures will eventually pay even longer dividends, stretching into eternity.

Posts 1986
Donnie Hale | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 5:53 AM

cc Matthews:

any helps,encouragements,wisdom for a very young preacher? This will be the first time I preach through a entire book...

Thanks in advance

I don't know if this will help you any or not. About 18 years ago, my wife and I were trying to find a church for our young family (3 kids under the age of 3). We ended up at a "Bible church" where they do verse-by-verse bible study every week. I had no idea a "lay" Christian could learn the word that way, that you could preach exegetically (or even what that might look like), or that I could be challenged to really understand God's word. All I'd ever been exposed to in my Christian life were what I view as standard evangelical church messages about being a good husband, or winning people to Christ at work, etc.

We're still going to that church 18 years later, and I'm still challenged each week to be like the Bereans and study the Scriptures daily to see whether these things are so.

Here's my point: Have a high view of your congregation's passion for the word and their ability to grasp it and be challenged to learn it for themselves. It seems to me like churches are a lot like government schools - teaching to their estimation of the lowest common denominator. It's OK to raise their expectations of themselves.

My $.02 ...

Donnie

 

Posts 1875
Alan Macgregor | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 8:20 AM

cc Matthews:

any helps,encouragements,wisdom for a very young preacher? This will be the first time I preach through a entire book...

Thanks in advance

I generally read the whole book and prayerfully ask myself a few questions:

 

  1. If I were to give this book a title, what would it be? That will give you an overall theme.
  2. Ignoring the chapter divisions, how many chapters would I break this book into? That will give you the rough number of sermons you will prepare, (it might end up more or fewer as you get down to weekly preparation).
  3. What title shall I give to each sermon? That will give you your working sermon titles; (they may change)

 

Then week-by-week I approach each passage and ask myself some more questions:

 

  1. What is this passage about? This will give you your sermon title.
  2. What in the passage confirms this? This will give you your sermon headings (not always 3!)

 

Then, and only then, do I start a detailed exegesis of the passage (the Exegetical Guide is useful in speeding up this process). Here's an example of the simple Logos layout I use to get started.

After I have done my own exegesis, I look at commentaries suggested by the Passage Guide.

Weekly preparation is aided and amended buy considering what happened during the preaching the previous week. (Perhaps I suddenly saw something in a new light. The Holy Spirit often reveals new insights as we preach!)

Above all trust the Lord to honour His promise to take care of how His Word impacts people. cf. Isaiah 55:11.

Every blessing as you seek to expound the whole counsel of God.

Alan

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Posts 1508
PL | Forum Activity | Replied: Fri, Dec 3 2010 8:22 AM

That's a glorious letter of encouragement to the Church.  God bless you (both the preacher and the listeners)!

In Christ,

Peter

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