Sitting in my congregation on any given Sunday are a multitude of needs and expectations, levels of maturity and orientations. And I'm supposed to offer a preaching menu to nourish every one of them. That means I've got to be an intentional biblical nutritionist.
— Stuart Briscoe

Once I preached a series on the fruit of the Spirit. Following the final sermon, a woman approached me in the narthex and asked, "When are you going to preach on something relevant?" (She wasn't the world's greatest diplomat.)

Taken aback, I stammered, "Relevant to whom?"

"To most of us," she replied. "We're sitting in the congregation with problems in our families and our marriages and our homes. We need help. When are you going to say something relevant?"

Ah, I think I understand, I said to myself. "Let me ask you some questions. About those problems of families—is there a lack of love there?"

"Yes, there is."

"And there's probably little joy in such situations," I continued.

"Absolutely! People are miserable."

"I suspect ...

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