When this article appeared in Leadership, exactly a decade ago, readers\ngave it high marks. Many books and articles on preaching, it seems, are too\nsimple or too complex. Readers told us they appreciated this article by Fred\nSmith because it applies expert wisdom to the basics. It’s uncommonly wise\non the common elements of public speaking.<\/p>\n\n
Every summer you can find advertisements for basketball or football camps\nwhere big-name stars, for a fee, will instruct young people dreaming of athletic\ngreatness.<\/p>\n\n
I wonder how much actual learning takes place when an all-star quarterback,\nwho spends most of his time reading and outmaneuvering sophisticated defenses,\ntries to coach a junior-higher who’s still trying to figure out how to grip\nthe ball with hands that aren’t quite big enough.<\/p>\n\n
Sometimes people learn more, not from the superstars who have long since\nlearned to perform the basics without conscious thought, but from others\nonly slightly further down the road, those who’ve recently shared the same\nstruggle.<\/p>\n\n
Often, I suspect, a similar effect happens to those who want to achieve superstar\npoise and eloquence in the pulpit. The key is focusing not on the dazzling\ntechniques but on the fundamentals. Improvement comes from concentrating\non the basics until we can perform them without conscious thought. We need\nto focus on the basics and to find pleasure in the step-by-step advance.<\/p>\n\n
Here are some fundamental areas that I find speakers may overlook as they\ntry to improve.<\/p>\n\n
To a large degree, the atmosphere we establish will determine how effective\nour sermon is going to be. Atmosphere is created by both our verbal and nonverbal\nmessages.<\/p>\n\n
I hear a lot of preachers, for instance, who are pretty sloppy in their opening\ncomments. Perhaps it’s because they haven’t thought about them, but the mood\nthey create right from the start makes it tough to benefit from the rest\nof the sermon.<\/p>\n\n
Most of us know you don’t want to start on a negative note. “I hope you all\nwill excuse my voice this morning. I’ve had a cold all week.”<\/p>\n\n
Or “I really appreciate you all coming on a miserable, rainy day like today.”<\/p>\n\n
Or “Folks, we just are not getting enough people. When I stand up here and\nlook out at this congregation … “<\/p>\n\n
What kind of impression do these introductions make on the listeners? Probably\nnot a good one. You’re not starting from their need. You’re starting from your<\/em> need. And that’s not the way to fill people with anticipation\nfor the Word you have to give.<\/p>\n\n This is why I enjoy starting with something like “This has been a wonderful\nweek”—people want to know why it’s been wonderful. They’ve had a lousy week.\nBut there are few weeks for which you can’t think up some way it has been\ngood—”I haven’t been sued a single time this week.” And people laugh.<\/p>\n\n Or “I haven’t had an automobile accident this week, not even a scratch.”\nLittle things like that. And then you can say, “No, really. It’s been a fine\nweek. I talked to some friends on the phone, and I was just reminded of the\nmarvelous gift of friendship.”<\/p>\n\n This builds a friendly atmosphere. It conveys a feeling anybody can identify\nwith.<\/p>\n\n People may say to themselves, “Yes, I talked to some friends this week, too.\nAnd sometimes I forget how good that is.”<\/p>\n\n That’s one way to help establish a warm, friendly atmosphere. There are other\nways, but the important thing is to avoid opening negatively or from\nself-interest or insecurity. I want to communicate openness, that I’m here\nto serve these people.<\/p>\n\n This setting of the atmosphere, of course, begins before I speak my first\nword. We can show warmth by our demeanor on the platform. I try to pick out\ncertain people and smile at them. This not only affirms those people, but\nit also shows the whole congregation I’m glad to be there.<\/p>\n\n People need to know how you feel before you start to speak. They want to\nknow whether you’re friendly or worried or mad. For me, the most difficult\ndiscipline in speaking is going in with the proper attitude. If I do not\nwant to speak, it is so difficult for me to speak well.<\/p>\n\n Attitude control is essential. I must go up there with a friendly attitude,\nwith a genuine desire to help those people, to give them something they’ll\nfind beneficial.<\/p>\n\n It also helps to notice how people are sitting and to gauge the emotional\nclimate of the congregation. This affects how you need to come across.<\/p>\n\n Recently I spoke at a Presbyterian church in Memphis. The 8 a.m. service\nwas about half full. People were sitting in ones and twos and threes. This\nmeans I needed to communicate with them individually. The 11 a.m. service,\nhowever, was packed, which meant I needed to communicate to them en masse.<\/p>\n\n What’s the difference? When people are scattered in a sparsely populated\nsanctuary, they feel exposed. They can’t hide. In a jammed auditorium, people\nthink they’re hidden, anonymous, and therefore as you speak, you can detect\na more open response.<\/p>\n\n So in the 8 a.m. service, I knew I had to be more personal, speaking as if\nwe were standing face to face and having a conversation. In my opening comments,\nI used the approach I would if I’d just shaken hands with someone. “You know\nI’m a Baptist. You also know I’m a social climber, since I’m talking to\nPresbyterians.” I laughed, and they gave a me a courteous laugh. You don’t\nexpect a big laugh out of a sparse audience any more than you would from\nsomeone you’re just getting acquainted with.<\/p>\n\n Then I said a few more personal things, just as if we were still shaking\nhands. “You know, I was born less than a hundred miles from this place. The\ntown has been kind enough not to put up a sign disclaiming it, even though\nthey haven’t put up a sign claiming it.”<\/p>\n\n That kind of light humor fits a small audience. I wouldn’t tell a story that\nrequires a big audience in that situation. I just needed to introduce myself\nwith a warm, friendly little greeting.<\/p>\n\n At 11 A.M., however, with the place packed and with the\nmagnificent choir behind me, I started by turning to the choir and saying,\n“I wanted to be a singer, not a businessman. And I had everything except\ntalent.” That’s a crowd joke. I wouldn’t have said that to just a few people.\nBut the choir laughed, and the whole church laughed. Then I went ahead and\nsaid, “When I found out I couldn’t be a singer, I went into religious music,\nleading singing.” They, of course, caught the innuendo, and they laughed\nfreely with me, and I was ready to proceed with my remarks. But that kind\nof humor requires a large audience.<\/p>\n\n So whether you’re a rookie speaker or a seasoned pastor, and by whatever\nthe technique, it’s important to begin by establishing a friendly atmosphere.<\/p>\n\n When people are thinking more about how you’re saying something than what you’re saying, your effectiveness is lost.<\/p>\n\n<\/blockquote>\n\n Another way we all can improve is by remembering that our goal is not simply\nto have people sit quietly while we talk, but to have their minds actively\nengaged by our subject matter.<\/p>\n\n Since I’ve been writing for Leadership<\/em>, I’ve had various preachers\nsend me sermon tapes. I have to believe they send me their best tape. And\nI really ache. I’d like to sit down with them and say, “Let’s talk about\nwhat you’re doing as a communicator.”<\/p>\n\n One common mistake is trying to create feelings by overdramatization—by\ntelling sob stories, or getting tears in the voice, or yelling. Listeners\nquickly realize the speaker isn’t depending on the subject matter to produce\nthe emotion, but the dramatization. And when people are thinking more about how<\/em> you’re saying something than what <\/em>you’re saying, your\neffectiveness is lost.<\/p>\n\n On the other hand, some preachers are so deadpan, they might as well be reading\na recipe or a research report. You’d never guess they thought real people\nwere listening.<\/p>\n\n In either case, my recommendation is to try more conversational preaching.\nPeople listen to it without antipathy. When I raise my voice, people tend\nto put up a barrier to my increased volume. It’s like that story about the\nkid who told his mother he’d decided to be a preacher.<\/p>\n\n “Why?” she asked.<\/p>\n\n “Well,” he said, “if I’m going to be attending church all my life, I’d much\nrather stand up and yell than sit and listen to it.”<\/p>\n\n The minute somebody starts yelling, people mentally distance themselves.\nMany preachers think they’re doing it for emphasis, but generally it doesn’t\nwork that way. It deemphasizes.<\/p>\n\n If I want to say something really important, I’ll lower <\/em>my voice—and\npeople will kind of lean forward to hear what I’m saying. In a sense, you’re\nputting intimacy in a point by lowering your voice. You’re saying, “This\npoint means something to me. I’m telling you something from my heart.”<\/p>\n\n By increasing the volume, often the sermon comes across as more a performance\nthan a heartfelt point you’re making to another individual. If you want people\nto digest what you’re saying, you don’t want them to feel you’re performing.<\/p>\n\n I don’t want people to observe. I want them to participate, because the whole\nobject of speaking is to influence attitudes and behavior.<\/p>\n\n How do I encourage participation? Not necessarily by being entertaining.\nIf people are listening for the next story or next joke, I’ve become a performer.\nI’ve got to be smart enough to know when my material is getting inside them.\nI may need to make them laugh. I may need a pointed statement. But when they\nare genuinely listening and understanding, they are participating.<\/p>\n\n My goal is not to have people say, “Oh, you’re such a great speaker.” Then\nI know I’ve failed. If they are conscious of my speaking ability, they see\nme as a performer. They have not participated. My goal is for people to say,\n“You know, Fred, I’ve had those kinds of thoughts all my life, but I’ve never\nhad the words for them. Now I’ve got words for them.” Then I feel I’ve given\nthem a handle for something. I’ve crystallized their thoughts and experiences\ninto a statement or story and made it real for them. I’ve enabled them to\ngive it to somebody else.<\/p>\n\n Obviously speakers must do the talking, but you let the audience “talk” too.\nYou talk for them. If I’m making a controversial point, I’ll say, “I can\ntell by your faces that you really don’t agree with that.” Or “You’re saying\nto me, ‘That’s all right for you to say, but that doesn’t fit my situation.’\nAnd I agree with you, because all of us are not alike.”<\/p>\n\n What I’ve done is to say their words for them. They’re thinking, He\nunderstands<\/em>. He’s not trying to poke this stuff down our throat<\/em>.\nAnd they want me to continue the conversation.<\/p>\n\n The key here is to make sure we see the process as a conversation and not\na performance. The way I’ve disciplined myself on this is to ask myself if\nI secretly enjoy the front-and-center role. I believe I’m never ready to\nspeak for God unless I’d rather somebody else do it. No matter how much\npreparation I’ve done, if at the moment before I stand, I wouldn’t be happy\nfor somebody else to do it, then I’m not ready to speak for God. I’m really\ngoing to be speaking for myself. And people will be observing a performance,\nnot participating in the presentation of a clear biblical word.<\/p>\n\n I keep a constant watch on my believability. Unless I can believe me when\nI make a statement, I won’t make it.<\/p>\n\n At certain times I can believe me saying something, because I’m practicing\nwhat I’m preaching. But other times I can’t, and I’ll cut that part out of\nmy speech. Let’s say I’ve had an argument with my wife before I speak. I\nwill not use an illustration or statement about the marital love relationship\nbecause Mary Alice wouldn’t believe me if I said it—and I<\/em> wouldn’t,\neither. Even though the statement is absolutely true, I could not say it\nand believe it.<\/p>\n\n Now, if I get with Mary Alice and say, “Honey, I was wrong” or “You were\nwrong” or “We were wrong,” and we resolve the issue, then I can believe me\nsaying some things about marriage. But I won’t ask my audience to believe\nwhat I can’t.<\/p>\n\n For me, this has meant giving up saying some things I would love to be heard\nsaying.<\/p>\n\n This also affects the references I can make. I have a private love of literature,\nfor instance, that for some reason I’m not able to get across to people.\nIt’s not an area I can communicate believably, no matter how interested I\nam. Perhaps it’s my southern accent, perhaps it’s just personal style, but\nI’m much more effective using some of my homespun common sense.<\/p>\n\n Nor can I, for example, use stories that have sexual overtones. There are\npeople who can use sexual material effectively. I can’t.<\/p>\n\n I don’t use politically oriented material because I’m not particularly interested\nin politics. I would laugh at myself waving the flag and making a Fourth\nof July speech.<\/p>\n\n I can’t effectively use material that has to do with sudden “miraculous”\nchanges because I’m such a believer in process. While I believe in the miracles\nof the Bible, I have difficulty teaching people to expect them.<\/p>\n\n I can’t be an inspirational speaker saying, “You can do anything you think\nyou can do . . . and what the mind can conceive, the body can perform.” That\njust isn’t me.<\/p>\n\n Nor am I able to preach effectively on prophecy. While I can listen to others\ndo it and appreciate their ability to do so, I can’t do it believably because\nI have so many personal misgivings. I would not feel on solid ground. I’d\nhave to quote someone else.<\/p>\n\n I want to be like Jesus as much as I can, “speaking as one having authority.”\nUnlike the scribes, who spent most of their time quoting other authorities,\nJesus spoke directly. He, of course, had divine authority.<\/p>\n\n How do we establish our authority? As credible speakers, we’ve got to establish\nsome authority or there’s no reason to listen to us.<\/p>\n\n You can establish your authority by being a researcher, a Bible scholar,\nor a collector of scintillating anecdotes. You may have had certain life\nexperiences. But whatever your authority, you have to be careful of\nextrapolation—taking a principle from an area you know and trying to apply\nit to an area you don’t know.<\/p>\n\n Extrapolation is where most speakers show their ignorance, and it undermines\ntheir genuine authority.<\/p>\n\n I believe I’m never ready to speak for God unless I’d rather somebody else do it.<\/p>\n\n<\/blockquote>\n\n I listen to some preachers extrapolate their knowledge into the business\nworld, and they do it well. Others, however, tell a business story and they\nreveal how little they know about business.<\/p>\n\n A friend of mine was preaching and trying to relate to the sportsmen in the\ncongregation, so he told a story about ice fishermen in Minnesota who were\nsitting in their huts catching muskies.<\/p>\n\n Afterward a man in the congregation told him, “That was a good story, but\nthey don’t fish for muskies in the winter.” My friend’s attempt to come across\nas “in the know” only showed the sportsmen he wasn’t.<\/p>\n\n So I’m careful when I extrapolate. Did I stick to things I know? When people\nsee that I’m pretending to be familiar with something I’m not, that hurts\nmy believability.<\/p>\n\n Few speakers have great voices, but most have ones perfectly adequate if\npeople can understand the words. But I’ve found people are turned off by\npreachers who have a seminary brogue, who have developed an intellectual\npronunciation, or who preach as if they were reciting Shakespeare. I immediately\nsay, “They’re performing.”<\/p>\n\n If I’m conscious of a speaker’s voice after listening for two minutes, then\nthe voice has become a distraction. In the first two minutes, people should\nmake a decision about your voice and then think no more about it. It’s exactly\nlike your clothing. When you stand up, if people are conscious of your clothes\nafter once seeing you, there’s something wrong with your clothes. You’re\neither overdressed or underdressed. You’re not properly dressed to speak.<\/p>\n\n The same is true of the voice. It should come across as natural. But there’s\nmore to it than that.<\/p>\n\n The voice should always contain some fire—conviction, animation. Fire in\nthe voice means that the mind and the voice are engaged. There’s a direct\nrelationship between an active mind and an active voice.<\/p>\n\n If you recite the nursery rhyme “Mary had a little lamb,” you don’t have\nto engage your brain. Chances are you’ll say it with a sing-song voice. The\nvoice indicates what’s going on in the mind.<\/p>\n\n In preaching it’s important that the voice be in gear with the mind, that\nit accurately represent the mind.<\/p>\n\n For example, if I am not really interested in a point I will leave it out,\nbecause my voice will be flat. My voice will say, “This point isn’t important”\nno matter what my words say. It will tell the audience I’m really not interested.\nIf I try to fake it, those who are sensitive will know it. So it’s\ncounterproductive to try to convince people of a point your voice doesn’t\nbelieve.<\/p>\n\n I like to listen to people say certain words. The way people say the word God<\/em> has always intrigued me. With some people, you can almost feel\nthe relationship. It’s personal. With others, it’s majestic. With others,\nit’s sharp or brittle. The fact that it is so different among different people\nmeans there is a different relationship and the voice is saying what the\nmind feels.<\/p>\n\n Sales people sometimes call this quality enthusiasm<\/em>. I think it’s\nmore than enthusiasm. Sometimes it will be awe or reverence. There are times\nwhen the voice ought to halt in reverence before a word. You don’t do that\nlike an actor. It’s just that when the mind halts, the voice ought to halt.\nThe voice is truly a mirror of the mind.<\/p>\n\n Fire in the voice has nothing to do with having a good voice or a poor voice.\nSome of the whiniest voices I’ve ever heard come from the best speakers.\nBut audiences will listen to a poor voice, as long as there’s fire, because\nas soon as the audience realizes the voice is real, they adjust to it.<\/p>\n\n Gestures have a vocabulary all their own. The Spanish painter Goya charged\nas much to paint the hands as to paint the face, because the hands are the\nmost difficult of all parts of the body to paint.<\/p>\n\n Delsarte, back in the last century, studied for several years how the hands\nshow emotion. He got so good at it that he could sit in a park and tell whether\na baby was held by a maid or its mother by the intensity of the hands.<\/p>\n\n I, too, have become interested in what hands say. When I watch a speaker,\nI watch the hands. I want to see whether gestures are spontaneous or programmed.\nI want to see whether the spontaneous gestures are repetitious or varied.\nMy friend Haddon Robinson has one of the finest pairs of hands I know. I’ve\ntried to count the different formations his hands make, and the number gets\nastronomical. Yet they’re absolutely spontaneous, and they’re in harmony\nwith what he’s saying and with the sound of his voice. He has a large vocabulary\nof both gestures and words.<\/p>\n\n One of our former presidents could say something like “You know I love you,”\nbut he would make a hacking gesture. Some psychiatrist friends who used to\nwatch him told me, “His hands tell you how much he really loves you.” You\ndon’t use a hacking motion with a genuine, spontaneous expression of love.<\/p>\n\n Great music conductors, for example, will often not use a baton so they can\ncommunicate more clearly. The orchestra can read their hands better than\nthe baton. The baton can give the beat or the accent, but hands can give\nthe nuance.<\/p>\n\n Many people will prophesy with their hands. They’ll let you know what’s coming\nbefore they actually say it. The hands come alive before the voice does.\nAnd people detect this even if they’re not aware of it.<\/p>\n\n Or you see somebody who points his finger at you like a pistol. You never\nexpect a real friendly statement after that. The teacher points a finger\nat you and then reprimands you.<\/p>\n\n I’ve found speakers can’t develop mastery of gestures quickly, but they can\ngive themselves permission to improve. Sometimes people don’t succeed because\nthey’re afraid to try. Any time we want to develop our skills, we start by\ngiving ourselves permission to grow.<\/p>\n\n With gestures, the key is simply to make sure they’re spontaneous and that\nthey represent the voice and the mind. But give yourself permission to let\nthem vary and be expressive.<\/p>\n\n Here’s one to start with. If you’re going to be delivering a climactic statement,\ninstead of getting intense too soon, it’s better to relax your body and back\naway a half step from the audience. Then just before you come into the climactic\nstatement, step toward the audience and straighten up. That way your body\nas well as your voice projects the message.<\/p>\n\n Gestures also include giving people your eyes. In speaking, eyes are almost\nas important as the voice. Everyone knows the importance of eye contact,\nbut the temptation I have is to zero in on a few people up front who are\nattentive. Maybe I’m insecure, but it’s easier to talk to those people. I\nhave to remind myself not to neglect those out on the wings. Like the farmer\nwho’s feeding the chickens, you have to throw the corn wide enough for everyone\nto get some. So I tell myself, Remember the smaller chickens on the\nfringe<\/em>. I want them to know I’m thinking of them, too.<\/p>\n\n I remember an embarrassing situation one night at a business meeting with\na group of executives.<\/p>\n\n One man, who considered himself an authority on international oil because\nhe read the newspaper, was popping off about the oil situation and how it\ncould easily be resolved.<\/p>\n\n What he didn’t know was that another man in the room had just returned from\nchairing an international conference of major oil companies. After the first\nfellow finished spouting off, proving his ignorance, this man quietly but\neffectively showed him to be the fool he was.<\/p>\n\n I said to myself, I hope that never happens to me<\/em>!<\/p>\n\n I left that meeting determined to make sure, in any speaking I do, that I\nleave open the possibility that someone may be there who knows an awful lot\nmore about the subject than I do. The memory of that business meeting has\nstayed in my mind and tempered many remarks I’ve been tempted to make.<\/p>\n\n On the other hand, sometimes speakers are too impressed with who’s in the\naudience.<\/p>\n\n The other night I was in a church listening to the preacher when a well-known\nuniversity president slipped into the sanctuary. The preacher changed his\nstyle considerably; I could tell he was preaching for the benefit of this\none individual. He went from preaching to giving an intellectual performance,\ntrying to impress with his learning. He seemed to forget the rest of the\naudience.<\/p>\n\n I couldn’t be too critical, however, because at times I’ve done the same\nthing. When some prominent person is present, the great temptation is to\nspeak to him alone. But that’s prostitution. That’s spending other people’s\ntime simply to make a personal impression.<\/p>\n\n But as I sat listening to the preacher being overly influenced by this university\npresident, suddenly the thought occurred to me, Doesn’t he realize God\nis listening<\/em>?<\/p>\n\n When God is listening, that’s about as big a celebrity as anyone is going\nto have. And isn’t he always our ultimate audience?<\/p>\n\n So in the back of my mind, I always try to remember that God is present.\nAnd if he isn’t, maybe we ought to dismiss early.<\/p>\n\n Fred Smith<\/strong> is a business executive in Dallas,\nTexas; a board member of Christianity Today International; and a contributing editor\nof Leadership<\/span>.<\/p>\n\n 1997 © by the author or Christianity Today\/Leadership<\/em> Journal. For reprint information call 630-260-6200 or contact us<\/a>.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\n
Encouraging participation, not observation<\/h2>\n
Ensuring I’m believable<\/h2>\n
\n
Making my voice inconspicuous<\/h2>\n
Using gestures effectively<\/h2>\n
Remembering my limited knowledge<\/h2>\n