You've heard the story before, haven't you? A preacher with a bandage on his face is standing before his congregation. "Excuse my appearance," he says. "I was thinking about my sermon while I was shaving, and I cut my face." After hearing the sermon, a listener advises, "Next time, why not think about your face and cut your sermon?"
Then there's this warning: "It's not too serious if people look at their watches while you preach. But if they shake them, watch out!"
Unfortunately, to many of our congregations, our need to cut our sermons is no laughing matter.
Long sermons hurt
It is practically impossible to end a long sermon with an effective conclusion and action step. By the time the preacher reaches the climax of such a sermon—when it's time to "take the order," or get the decision—people have quit listening.
Whatever portion of the sermon makes it too long detracts from the effectiveness of what went before. There is a listening curve. Benefit builds until the sermon gets to the top of that curve.
Then benefit begins to fall. We can actually preach until worshipers go away from church worse off than when they came even angry.
How long is too long?
When is a sermon too long? That's a tough question, because sermons can be lengthy without being long. Sermons that seem long are too long even if they're short.
Shallow, dawdling sermons seem long. Four minutes of the trite and obvious may seem to the audience like 40 minutes. Sermons seem short that vary from reason to emotion, argument to illustration, and, in delivery, from intimate to enthusiastic.
All things considered, the old rule of thumb still applies in most congregations and cultures: "If you don't strike oil in 30 minutes, stop boring."
Three ways to control length
To control the length of your sermon:
1. Prepare ruthlessly. The problem is not so much one of long-winded preachers who don't know they're taking too much into the pulpit. We soon learn that a particular amount of material will fill a particular number of minutes in the pulpit.
The problem is that we cheat as we prepare. "This is too important to leave out. Besides, it won't take long." And so we put things in, knowing full well we shouldn't. Deleting is difficult, especially if the ideas are our own. It's hard mental work deciding which is an A idea and which is a B. The excellent preacher is ruthless in preparation, putting a knife to the sermon's throat, eliminating every excess idea.
2. Preach empathically. The workday here at the office always starts with morning worship. When I was chairman of the worship committee, we got complaints that too many speakers were going over time. Everyone seemed to agree that everybody ought to cut back. Yet even some of the complainers went overtime when they spoke. Someone offered a simple yet profound analysis: "They all think they're exceptions."
Lengthy sermons usually evidence a subconscious ego problem. It's embarrassing to admit, but we presume that listening to us is more important than whatever else people might do.
Empathy means "feeling with." An empathic preacher realizes that although the sermon is the most important thing in the world to the preacher just now, he or she might feel very differently if some one else were preaching and the erst while preacher were in the audience trying to quiet a wet baby or worrying that a non-Christian husband was waiting impatiently in the car.
3. Conclude precisely. As an old Vermonter advised, "When you're done pumpin', let loose of the handle." Our sermons sometimes go on and on because we haven't thought through just how we're going to stop. A precisely prepared conclusion protects you and your people from the frustration of a Magellan sermon—one that keeps circling the earth while people pray for land.
The final rule in sermon length must always be Stop while your listeners wish there were more, rather than after they wish there had been less. Stop preaching before your people stop listening.