Here is a preacher whose eyes are aglow, whose face is radiant, whose body is alert and flexible. He is alive from crown to finger tips. Speech seems to burst from his expressive mouth without effort. The people in the audience sit motionless, their eyes following his every movement, their ears deaf to every sound except his words. When he brightens they brighten; when he breathes pathos their faces cloud. When he finishes they go away silently, in deep thought, as they ponder his message.
Here is another preacher. He stands stolidly at the desk and drones out the sacred thoughts. They are good thoughts, and the people are visibly concerned about keeping their attention upon them. In spite of their care their eyes stray to the windows, to the cooing babies, to the way the elders on the platform have their legs crossed. From time to time some phrase from the Good Book catches their attention, but the lifeless comments thereon make listen ing an effort. The comments may be true, and there may even be illustrations, but somehow the texts and the illustrations do not stick together, though careful analysis shows them to be logically connected.
What is the difference? Preacher number one has mastered "the illusion of reality." You may think the phrase does not sound good. "Illusion" seems undesirable, artificial. But wait a minute. Preacher number two one day met an old schoolmate who had gone astray and ended up in the theater as an actor. Said the preacher to his friend, "Tell me, how is it that you actors, who deal with nonsense, play to full houses, while we preachers, who proclaim the greatest truths of all time, too often preach to empty pews?" The actor replied, "I think the trouble is that, while we actors speak of unreal things as though they were real, you preachers speak of real things as though they were un real."
Here is where the illusion of reality comes in. But, you say, I do not like theatrical preaching. I have heard men who raved all over the platform and tried to act everything out, and it was not only ineffective, but sacrilegious. Agreed. But the performance missed the illusion of reality. Being dramatic is not objection able; being stagy is, even in the theater. No comment upon an actor is more withering than the one, "He is stagy." Good acting demands that the performer be so convincing in his role that the people in the audience forget for the moment that there is a stage or a theater. They are transported to the scene being portrayed.
The same principle applies to preaching. The preacher is not an actor, and any attempt at playing parts makes the audience conscious of the attempt and spoils the effect. But it is possible to achieve the illusion of reality in the pulpit.
Let us go back to preacher number one. He is preaching about facts of Christianity. He is telling about an experience in a school where he gave a series of talks. Toward the close of the series, he says, a group of students came to him, just before meeting time, concerned over one of their friends who, though a fine young man, was an unbeliever. Could he do something? He goes on with the story of how he discarded his notes and talked of his own conversion and that of others. He tells how the young man came to him with a question after the service, and of how he gave his heart to God in a public confession at the last meeting.
It is a good story, but the important thing is the way he tells it. When he pictures the young people coming to him we hear their very words, spoken as they would speak them. When the sermon is reviewed we see the room, the preacher, the young people with their eager faces, and the unbeliever with his thoughtful, penetrating countenance as he weighs every word. We see him as he comes to the preacher with his query. We catch his anxious agony in face and tone as he bursts out, "Answer me one question: Is Jesus actually real to you?" We feel the tension of the preacher as he searches his deepest consciousness for an honest answer. With relief we hear his one- word answer, "Yes." We see the boy turn abruptly and rush from the room. On through the troubled afternoon we follow the preacher as he unsuccessfully searches for the boy. We feel the expectancy of the evening meeting and rejoice in the procession that joins the boy as he comes down the aisle for the altar call.
How does the preacher grip us? By the illusion of reality. We cannot go back actually and relive the experience, but we relive it in imagination. It is real only by imagination, by a sort of illusion. For the moment the preacher becomes the young person who speaks for the group in behalf of their friend. He takes the part of the young questioner. His voice changes slightly to suggest that of the boy; his face ex presses the emotion he describes. This is the illusion of reality. But by whatever name you call it, it is the secret of holding attention, of impressing truth upon an audience.
How does a preacher learn to use the technique? We might as well realize at first that some unimaginative minds will never learn it, and will never preach effectively. They may learn to organize a church, to handle money, to keep up a property. They could make excel lent deacons, but never preachers.
Granted the basic gift of imagination, what procedures will activate the ability to achieve the illusion of reality? Imagination is, according to the American College Dictionary, the action of forming mental images or concepts of what is not actually present to the senses, the power of reproducing images stored in the memory under the suggestion of associated images, or of recombining former experiences in the creation of new images different from any known by experience.
Spending a thoughtful hour in quiet contemplation of the life of Christ, especially the closing scenes, requires just this skill. None of us has ever witnessed a crucifixion, yet by the power of imagination we can grasp the anguish and horror of the scene. We have never been a young man about to be slain by our father as a sacrifice, but we can live the experience imaginatively. We have never had the chance to offer ourselves as bondsmen in place of a little brother, but we can relive the experience of Judah as we read the words of his eloquent plea. Incidentally, this emotional high point in the world's greatest example of creative literature may well serve as a test. If you can read it with dry eyes, you may doubt your call to preach.
We need, then, to exercise the basic intellectual gift by reading much creative literature, letting the imagination have full play in picturing the scenes and realizing the experiences of the characters. Of the necessity of careful selection of material we need not speak here. It is notable that a great portion of the Bible is literature of this type, written with the greatest skill, creating vivid characters by the use of direct discourse.
Here the problem is to read the Bible as literature. Did you ever pause to- imagine the emotions of the husbandman who did so much for his vineyard, only to have it bring forth wild grapes ? Did you ever relive imaginatively the experience of Hosea with his wife Corner? Did it ever occur to you that part of the parable of the sower is the emotion, imaginatively conceived, of the principal character as he sees the seed spring up?
Having developed the ability to react to scenes graphically produced, how can we proceed to a successful expression? Learn to read the passages aloud, giving complete vocal and facial coloring to the phrases. This cannot be imposed upon an unimaginative mind. It must come from inside, based in a sort of automatic fashion upon the power of a vivid creative imagination. If you have entered fully into the experience of Ruth, you cannot help reading her entreaty to Naomi in effective fashion, granting a flexible medium. This medium is a subject for another article. But we may make use here of what is called a technique of think ing. Take each phrase of the reading, and let the imagination linger upon the meaning. Then give oral expression, concentrating upon meaning
Fight the fatal tendency to read words. Read ideas. Never put expression into the reading. The expression must come naturally from a sympathetic understanding of the material.
Select such a passage as the dialog between Abraham and Isaac. In reading you must alternately think two characters. Imaginatively you must be first the faithful but heavyhearted father, then the eager, trustful youth. You cannot read the passage effectively without this technique of thinking.
Let it be perfectly clear that only the technique of thinking will serve—the technique of thinking the thoughts that are read. Thinking about the thoughts or about how the words sound or about how a character is portrayed will never produce effective results but will give the flavor of artificiality. You must momentarily become the character whose words you read. The rest takes care of itself, to the extent," as we have observed, of the flexibility of your medium.-The outward modification of delivery accomplished by this technique of thinking is slight—a suggestion of bodily attitude, an expression of the face, a mobility of vocal color—but it is as important as the salt on your potatoes or the spark in your auto mobile.
The skill thus developed will provide for a more inspired type of Scripture reading, and will also contribute much to the vividness of extempore preaching. The transition from reading to speaking may prove difficult, and there is no formula. The method is similar. Jesus had the proprietor of the wheat field say, "An enemy hath done this." How would you say the sentence so that the common people would hear you gladly? Common people are the same today as they were two thousand years ago; they will listen gladly to a story dramatically told. They will respond to the illusion of reality.
Some shy away from drama, but the Bible is full of it. The trouble with the theater is not so much that it uses the technique of the drama, but that it uses it for ignoble purposes. So great has been the distortion that dramatization has come into disrepute among many Christians. Nevertheless, the basic principles of dramatic expression were used by Jesus, and are used by the successful preachers of today.
If you would preach effectively, learn the technique of thinking, achieve the illusion of reality, and present your material with dramatic vividness.
