Convicted by My Own Sermon …
Like most preachers, I pray about what God wants me to preach. Long ago, I realized I didn’t have to do this on Saturday night before Sunday; I could pray months in advance, and God would lead me to a series of messages that stretched over six months.
When I was planning my preaching for this spring, I felt oddly led to preach a series on the Biblical wisdom of money management. Most preachers don’t like to preach on money; they feel awkward since their salaries are paid by the tithes and offerings from the church. God cured me of that when I pastored my third church, which struggled financially. I realized if I wanted to get paid, I better preach on generosity.
This past Sunday, I taught the Biblical principles of borrowing money. The Bible actually says a great deal about this topic, more than I could cover in a 25 (okay, 35) minute message. But one teaching I wanted to bring out: If you borrow something, return it undamaged. If it is damaged, pay to fix it. Exodus 22:14 says: “If anyone borrows an animal from their neighbor and it is injured or dies while the owner is not present, they must make restitution.”
I explained this message was drilled into me by my stepfather, Lawrence. I heard him say dozens of times: “If you borrow a man’s truck, fill it up with gas before you return it. If that truck breaks while you have it, you pay to fix it.”
This made a lasting impression on me. First, it made me very reluctant to borrow anything for fear of tearing it up. Second, anytime I borrow a car, I fill it up before I return it. Third, when I tear up something I borrowed, I pay to have it fixed.
A friend loaned me his car this week while my truck was being fixed. My morning unrolled so much smoother by having transportation. I was on my way to return the car when there was a whisper in my soul: “Remember your sermon from Sunday? How you always fill up the car when you return it?”
It is amazing the deluge of thought that can run through your mind in two seconds. My first thought was, “But I have only driven three miles, tops.” My second thought was, “If I stop and fill up, it will take ten minutes, and I need those ten minutes to get things done.” My third thought was, “I’m pretty sure my friend didn’t hear that sermon. I can get away with this.”
The fourth thought did not come from me, I’m sure. It was, “What’s up, Clay? Don’t you believe your own sermons?” That thought hurt.
There is an old-fashioned word we do not use much anymore: conviction. I heard it a lot when I was growing up. Preachers would talk about falling under the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It meant you would hear the Spirit speak to your heart about your sin. I’ve experienced this conviction many times in my life, especially when faced with the choice of doing something right or doing something easy.
Did I mention all this ran through my mind in about two seconds? It was the Holy Spirit, reminding me of my own sermon, that convicted me. I put on my right turn signal, pulled into a gas station, and filled up the tank. It was the right thing to do.
I deserve no praise for this. I’m embarrassed that this simple act is not yet automatic. I do think if you are a follower of Jesus, the goal is to be so immersed in him that your choices automatically are his choices. I have a long way to go.
By listening to God, I was spared a day of regret (“I should have filled up that car”), shame (“I am a horrible person. I don’t even live what I preach”), and guilt (“I knew the right thing to do, and I didn’t do it because I was selfish”). Doing right feels better than doing wrong.
Each of us, in our own way, preach our own sermons. We all have standards of right and wrong. Some of our standards align with God’s standards; others do not. The reason I know I am not good enough to get to heaven on my own is I cannot live up to my own standards of right and wrong. The Apostle Paul wrote a long time ago, “It is by grace you have been saved, and that not of yourselves, lest any man should boast.”
Salvation is God’s gracious gift. Conviction is God’s gracious gift, too. It is God saying to me, and maybe to you, that listening to him is good for your soul.