Copyright 1996 by Rev. Stanley L. Derickson Ph.D. It is unlawful to copy, reproduce or sell this work.
If you want to pass a FREE copy along to a friend or pastor, please feel free to do so. Thanks Stan.
In traveling from church to church speaking, I have noticed that comments about the church's pulpit have been a great way to gain the interest of the congregation. It is also a very quick and warm ice breaker.
I have mentioned in numerous churches that I should write a book about all the pulpits I have stood behind. Since I have not seen a recent treatise on said subject, may I share a few thoughts about the pulpits I've filled.
Pulpits have been of interest to me for as long as I've been in the ministry. In my early college days the school called a new president - a very short president. When he came to the pulpit in chapel for the first time he was shocked at the pulpit's height - indeed, he could barely see over the top of it. I was sitting in the sound room to the side of the platform and his arms were raised to the limits to lay them on the side of the pulpit.
By his next chapel session the pulpit had been shortened to accommodate the president. It fit him quite nicely, but the six foot tall speakers that followed could barely reach their notes.
I trust that this first account doesn't set the stage for following items of consideration. When stepping to the pulpit I noticed two glasses of water setting ready for use.
As I slowly lifted both glasses into the view of the congregation, I said, "I see someone is expecting a very dry sermon."
Many that I have known in the ministry have felt that humor in the pulpit was not a thing to be desired. I must admit that for many years I was in agreement. While attending a small pastors' get together an old pastor mentioned how important it was to establish a contact with a new congregation when speaking to them for the first time.
I was not sure that his choice to use humor for this purpose was good, but after a number of years in the ministry, I must agree that humor is a great leveling tool for people. It touches all brands of human beings, and it is something that is quick and effective.
I am not succumbing to the out and out comics I have witnessed at the TV pulpit, but a little humor can go a long way to maintaining contact with the listener.
My first church was in the foothills
southwest of Denver, CO. It was a very small pioneer work, meeting in
a one room school house in a small area called Indian
Park. We gathered for my first Sunday and I
stepped to my new, freshly built pulpit. It was beautiful to me and
very fitting to our situation. The school was situated on a small
tree covered hill in the foothills. The pulpit consisted of a log
with two pieces of one by twelve nailed to the ends.
The pulpit worked well, except that as I
leaned forward to make a point it leaned forward with me and I would
have to pull it back after my point was made. In later services, one of the roaming
children decided to use it for a leaning post. It accommodated the
child and did what it did best. I struggled for several minutes to
hold the pulpit upright while concentrating on what I was
saying. It was at this pulpit that I decided to act
a little flippant and took the end of my necktie and gave it a flip
into the air. My point was quite well taken by the congregation, when
the tie, one of those clip on types of the 60's, went flying through
the air into the third row. When we left that church the pulpit was
still standing faithfully in the front of the little school
house.
Pulpits are usually made of wood, indeed, I
don't recall any other types. Of course we have metal lecterns or
music stands which I don't usually fill - I tend to overflow these
items of torture for the preacher - you know - you lay out your notes
and there is no place for your Bible, or you lay out your Bible and
lay your notes on top - until they slide off onto the
floor! When planting a church we had our beginnings
in our home. We determined that any pulpit should have a removable
top so that the rest of the unit could be laid down on its side and
used for a coffee table during the week. My father-in-law offered to help me build
it. We went to his work area and I assisted with all the wood working
experience I could muster. I held the boards while he cut them, held
the boards while he glued them, and held the boards while he nailed
them. He did get brave and allow me to cut one forty-five degree
angle cut to fit the molding strip on the top. Yes, that was the only
corner that did not fit! Again, this pulpit served the Lord quite
effectively over the months of ministry in that small pioneer
work.
Believers don't usually relate worry, or
concern, or anxiety to pulpits yet it is possible. I do not speak of
the nerves of the inexperienced speaker, but of a fear of another
nature. I was told of a large pulpit in a church on
the east coast which had a red light and a green light placed in the
surface where only the speaker could see them. The guest speakers were told that as long as
the green light was on they could continue, but if the red light came
on they only had five minutes to go before the pastor would approach
and stop them. (The least they could have done was include a yellow
light to tell you that you had ten minutes to go.) I had related this and other pulpit stories
to many congregations. My purpose in relating this to you is to give
background to the panic I had when I stepped to a pulpit in Wyoming.
There in the surface was a red light and a green light.
As I related the story of the pulpit in the
east my panic was relieved by the smiles and shaking heads in the
congregation. They were assuring me that this was not the
case in their church. One of the elders mentioned later that in the
past the lights had been used to help the pastor coordinate his
timing for radio broadcasts of the morning services.
While we are speaking of panic we might
mention one other pulpit that sent my nerves into orbit. We had been
invited to share with a small group in the morning worship services.
As I approached the pulpit I noticed a large sign with large letters,
"USE THE KING JAMES VERSION ONLY!" The adrenalin flow slowed as I
recalled that I had brought my King James Bible with me, and that I
had not planned to quote other translations that
morning.
Over the years there have been many pulpits
that look like Fibber McGee's closet. Stuffed with all sorts of
useful and non-useful items. When I saw one of these specimens, I
made a quick mental note to not kick, bump, pound, or in any other
way disturb the sleeping avalanche. With this in mind you can imagine my shock
in mid-Nebraska when I stepped to the pulpit and noticed that there
was only one pencil and one small screw laying on the shelves. (I
won't waste our time discussing the possible reasons for a pencil and
a screw being found in an otherwise empty pulpit.) I immediately declared that the
NEATEST-CLEANEST pulpit in the western United States. Realizing the
possibility of others like it, I quickly amended that to "THIS IS THE
CLEANEST PULPIT I'VE EVER USED!"
In one church in Nebraska they had the
normal up front pulpit as well as a roll around one for smaller
services. The "up front" one turned out to be just about two inches
shorter than my bifocals. Each time I wanted to read my notes I had
to imitate the hunchback of Notre Dame. I finally gave up and went by
memory instead. (The sermon went well in spite of the
difficulties.) That evening they told me I could use either
pulpit so I opted for the mobile unit. I told the congregation, that
way I could guarantee them a moving message for the evening
service.
One of the first pulpits I was honored to
use was in Oregon. It was built in two pieces. The top was removable
to provide a flat surface for other uses. I had been ministering in the church for
some time and had not noticed that the top did not sit level on the
lower part. One Sunday I was very emphatic on a point and I hit the
corner of the top piece. CRASH! The top tipped and banged quite
loudly, shocking all present including the preacher. A quick check of
the solidness of a top is suggested for the avid pulpit
pounders.
I must admit that I have never been in a
church with a pulpit mounted up high above the congregation. I must
also admit that it would be somewhat strange, if not nerve racking,
to be that high up trying to concentrate on preaching and worrying
about how solidly attached to the wall the unit may or may not
be. While speaking of worry, it may be well to
mention a pulpit that was once pictured in a newspaper article. It
appeared to be cup shaped and supported on a very small pedestal
about four inches in diameter. I immediately wondered if that small
pedestal would support a stately pastor that leaned forward over the
edge to make a point. I've seen some sermons fall flat on their face,
but never a preacher. In western Nebraska there is a small Baptist
church that has an unusually high platform where the pulpit is
located. When I stepped into that pulpit I was reminded of my
thoughts of those pulpits hanging on the wall. Let me interject a new thought that should
relate to our story somehow. When I was in college I had professors
mention that they had people in their congregations
become sick and become unconscious in the middle of the service. I
often wondered how in the world you would handle such a
situation. As the sermon was winding down on this warm
Sunday morning as I spoke from the high platform, I noticed a man
looking very strange. As time went on he sank lower in stature and
paler in color. Finally he attempted to stand up, but couldn't. The
ushers had noticed him so rushed forward to assist. My response was
to continue on and allow the ushers to care for the situation. It
worked out to be a good choice for the sermon was finished and there
was little disturbance. Need I suggest that ushers be trained to
observe the congregation, and also be trained in how the pastor would
like for them to react in similar situations? In this same town, I was asked to minister
in another church at a different time. There was nothing of
particular interest in the pulpit itself, but as I ministered I was
able to observe a middle aged man in the back corner of the church.
He had fallen asleep early into the message, and he continued in
heavenly bliss for the entire message. You can imagine my shock when at the door he
shook my hand quite heartily and said, "Good message brother, good
message!"
I had set up in a small church on the Oregon
coast to present a lesson during which I used slides to illustrate
each point. As the lesson began the pastor noticed I was using
slides. What he did not notice was that I was using notes. He
proceeded to shut off the lights. I was still able to make out the
notes, though with much strain. Thinking all was well I continued
along the prescribed course. Great concern grew when the pastor began
pulling the window shades which left me in near darkness. I was very
thankful that the slides illustrated my points very well, as I was
able to finish the lesson using them to jog my memory as to the
content of the lesson that I could no longer see.
Along with the pulpits filled, the one not
filled might be worthy of mention. We had scheduled a Sunday in a
church to preach the worship service and the evening service. As we
settled into our seats before Sunday School the pastor turned to see
who had come in. He gave us a smile and a wave and then turned to
face the front. Almost immediately he did the proverbial double take
with a shocked look on his face. A little later he came to our class room and
sheepishly stuck his head in the door and asked if he had scheduled
us to speak. We did not speak that day, but enjoyed a good day's
ministry in the church a few months later. A lesson for each of us - to write things
down, and to confirm speaking engagements a week or two before the
fact.
At one time in our ministry we were on
deputation for missionary service in Europe. I had contacted many
pastors that I had never met personally. In the first hours of
meeting a new pastor there was usually a time spent getting to know
one another. I arrived at a pastor's home on Saturday
evening to stay overnight before speaking in the morning service. As
the pastor and I talked he seemed to become perplexed about
something. I had been talking about our ministry thus far with the
mission, but had not said anything that would have caused him
concern. We talked for some time before he finally
verbalized his confusion. He said, "Well, then have you been to the
field before?" "No, we are just starting our deputation." Well,
aren't you with mission brand x?" "No, I am with mission brand y."
"Well, don't you live in Grants Pass?" "No, we live in Salem." "Well,
I certainly got you mixed up with someone else!" "I thought you had
been on the field for many years, and that you would be a real
challenge to the congregation concerning missions." I told him that I would be glad to just
preach a message and leave so that he could schedule the other
missionary. He said, "No, we will just challenge them with missions
in a little different way than I had planned." We had a good time of
fellowship, and I felt that the people were quite receptive even
though I was the wrong man.
We had been asked to speak in a medium sized
church in a very small town in Central Wyoming. The congregation was
quite friendly and warm, the platform was quite large, and I was
quite familiar with my message. I felt a real ease to roam the
platform as I preached. I found myself standing at the front edge
several times while making special points. I also noticed that as I
approached the front of the platform, the congregation was noticing
me approach the front of the platform. About that time I had lost my
concentration and stepped to close to the edge of the platform. I
nearly lost my balance, but was able to recover before having to step
down to the floor. I immediately told the folks that I would refrain
from coming so close. Speaking of near misses, you remember that
church with the two piece pulpit that I was able to wake up the
congregation with? Well, we returned to that church many years later
for a meeting and found that they had built a small platform out from
the steps that led up the stage that they did not use. They had
placed the pulpit about two steps up from the floor so that people in
the back could see. The platform was at least three foot square
and quite confining for a platform wonderer like myself. No, I did
not fall. Yes, it took great concentration to stay behind the
pulpit.
After getting up at 3:30 A.M. and driving to
northern Washington state to minister in both services, we were
settling into Sunday School class for a good lesson by the
pastor. The pastor stood to teach the lesson and
announced that anyone driving since 3:30 A.M. deserved to have every
opportunity possible to speak and told the class that I would also
teach the Sunday School class. The Lord was very gracious and the
lesson developed well as my mind clamored for things to say. I never
did thank that pastor for talking to the class about his fishing trip
that week. It reminded me of a good fish story that I related to the
class as I prepared my lesson. As I have indicated previously I normally
attempt to find something to say that is wise, humorous, and
intelligent as I begin my time in a pulpit. On the way to this
particular church I had been listening to the radio while the family
slept as best they could - you know - five in a
Chevette. One of the announcers mentioned that it was
national mother-in-law day, so I tucked this little bit of
information away for that special note of interest at the pulpit.
Later that early morning another announcer mentioned that it was
national mule day. Naturally, being the nice, gracious person
that I am I announced to the congregation that it was national
mother-in-law day. After the smiles and nods of affirmation ceased I
informed them of the rest of my information. Weeellll, how could I do
less than give them the whole story. A similar "surprise you're the speaker"
incident occurred in Central California at a missions conference. The
missionaries had not been given instructions on what the schedule
would be, nor what our responsibilities would be. This, by the way is the pastor that called
me Thursday evening to find out whether my wife would be coming with
me to the conference starting the following Sunday morning. The same
pastor that had not previously invited me to be part of the
conference. We all gathered together, questioning one
another as each arrived, hoping for some information. We were given
bulletins and it was noticed that a "missionary" was speaking the
entire Sunday School hour to the entire church. About five minutes before Sunday School the
pastor appeared to introduce himself to us. Yes, the first question
was, "Who is speaking in Sunday School?" The young man did well for having no
preparation! I'm so very thankful that it was he and not
me!
I was on an extended trip to the Midwest and
was to speak in a little town in southeastern Nebraska. I drove into
town and found my way to the main downtown area. It was built around
a town square and many of the buildings were boarded up and many
looked to be in bad disrepair. I could not imagine what was going on
in this little town. Later that day I was told that a futuristic
war movie had just been shot in the town and that the downtown area
had been "made up" for the movie. During the morning message I was moving
along quite well, when all of a sudden what sounded like a fire alarm
went off. I was in quite a shock trying to determine what was going
on. Finally a young woman reached over and shut the noise off. It was
a baby heart monitor for their child. Talk about how to make a
preacher skip a point or two - that one was worth several
points! Before leaving the "how to get the preacher
to shorten his sermon by a point or two section," I might mention one
of the first Sundays in that little church with the leaning
pulpit. I had barely started my sermon on hell, when
a young hippie that was passing through raised his hand and blurted
out, "Can I ask a question?" I replied that he certainly could. "Well
do you really feel that a loving God could ever possibly send anyone
to a place like you say hell is?" In my time of explanation I found that I was
out of time for my sermon. As I reflected on the morning, I was happy
to note that most of what I had planned to say, had been said in a
much more relaxed manner, and that the young man had gone away
seriously considering the possibility of a literal
hell.
We arrived early one Sunday morning at a
large church in Central Oregon. We took the time to look around the
facilities. As time for Sunday School arrived I went to the men's
room. Just before coming out I had the urge to cough in a big
way. As the coughing subsided my lower back went
into a serious fit. I ended up on the floor for a couple of minutes.
I finally struggled to my feet and out to the hall. One of the deacons helped me into the
sanctuary where I laid down on a pew. After taking some pain
medication I was able to sit up, but with much
difficulty. It was decided that just before people
entered the sanctuary, they would help me to a large chair on the
platform, then I could just sit there during the service and preach
sitting down. The time came, and I was assisted to the
chair. Everyone had left for a moment and a group of about ten people
that had not come to Sunday School entered the back of the
auditorium. Now, just picture the scene. They have arrived early to
attend church - they have entered a sanctuary that is dimly lit -
they look up on the platform and they see a large bald man sitting
mostly erect, staring at them from one of those near throne sized
chairs. I suspect that they came to Sunday School after
that. It was of interest to me as I was sitting
there waiting for the service to start - one of the main points of my
sermon was non-conformity - how fitting!
While setting up my usual missionary
equipment I noticed that there were a lot of dead flies laying on the
floor. This did not surprise me as there were a lot of flies in the
air very much alive. I did not think a lot of the flies until I
noticed that there were more dead flies than a few minutes before.
Indeed, there were dead flies laying on the table where I had just
previously brushed them away. Within minutes I had noticed that there were
dead flies on top of the equipment that I had just set up. As I was
finishing up there were dead flies everywhere I looked. I had to lift
the projector and dump them off of the slides. While speaking from the pulpit I was
brushing dead flies off of my Bible and notes. I hope I didn't
include explanation points where they weren't planned in the
message! No one mentioned all the dead flies in the
church, on the pews, on the tables, dozens and dozens of dead flies,
so why in the world would I mention those dozens upon dozens of
flies. Before leaving that evening I noticed that there were no
LIVING flies in the air. I assumed that they had been one of those
breeds that live only a brief time.
When going into missions work, we went on
deputation to raise prayer and financial support. We had been
fortunate to schedule a number of meetings in western Oregon. The
first meeting was in a church in Roseburg. The pastor had been kind
enough to allow us to share our ministry with his people on a Sunday
evening. When we arrived, it was raining, as is quite
normal for Oregon, and we all grabbed some equipment and ran into the
church. As I was setting up the projector, screen, table and the
other items, I noticed that the slide tray was missing. Hoping that
it had just been missed in the rush to get in out of the rain, I
asked the family where the slides were. The green color of one of our
sons clued me into the fact that the slides were in Salem at the
apartment. God is gracious to his unprepared children.
We told of our ministry and did the best we could without the
assistance of slides. That dear pastor and his wife supported us for
many, many years with their prayers, encouragement and financial
help.
I had spoken to a pastor concerning a
deputation meeting and was told that the church was over committed
financially, but that we would be very welcome to come and fill the
pulpit when he was on vacation. This was a welcome way to fill
weekends when we did not have meetings scheduled. It allowed us to
find prayer supporters as well as challenge folks with
missions. The deacons and I met for prayer before the
service, a practice I would encourage all churches to continue and/or
begin. One of the deacons was going to lead the song service so we
stepped onto the platform. I noticed that there was another man on the
platform. I did not know who he was, but assumed that it would become
evident soon. Part way through the song time the deacon
introduced the young man as the representative from the Brand x
church. He stepped to the pulpit to speak to the people of the
cooperation that they were showing in the coming evangelistic
campaign in the area. As he continued on I learned that the church
I was speaking in, the local church representing liberalism, and one
of the Charismatic churches had hired a Southern Baptist evangelist
to come for an evangelistic campaign. I wasn't sure just how to handle all of
this, but progressed as planned. The service went well and we were
invited to move to the long hall between the sanctuary and the front
door to great people. They placed the "OTHER" church representative
in the hall and asked me to stand at the door. My observation was that few if any greeted
the other man, and almost all stopped to speak with me. I wondered
just how cooperative the congregation really was. I suspect the
cooperation was to be found in the pastor only. This probably was a pulpit I shouldn't have
filled, though the Lord seemed to be working in the people as His
Word was being shared! WRITE A
MISSIONARY
While sharing our missionary ministry to a
church in southern Oregon, I mentioned to the children in the
congregation that they should write to missionaries. I told them that
they could get to know the missionaries and that they would also gain
some nice stamps from around the world. After the service the church had planned a
pot luck for us. While we were waiting in line for lunch one of the
children came up to me and asked if I was sure that missionaries
would write back. I told him that I would and that I thought most
others would also. Having set this conversation aside we
returned home to the weeks work and planning for coming meetings.
About Thursday we received a letter. Obviously by the handwriting it
was from a child. I opened it knowing that someone wanted a stamp
from the missionary. The letter stated: "Dear Mr. Derickson, I'm
fine. Send stamps." Naturally, I sent the young man a number of
foreign stamps the next day. Several weeks later, we received a second
letter. "Dear Mr. Derickson, I'm fine. Thanks for the stamps. Send
more stamps." Yep, I certainly did. I often wondered if that small
act of sending a few stamps might have had an impact on a young life.
We trust so.
While on deputation, we janitored for a
large church to help with the income. I was asked to speak in the
evening service one Sunday, so being as my nature is, I spoke on
missions. During the message I read a quote from a
survey of a fundamental university student body. The survey was to
determine how the students felt about the importance of different
ministries within the fundamental church. The students were to rank the different
ministries of pastor, missionary, associate pastor, minister of
music, Sunday School teacher, office workers, janitors and all the
other jobs in a church, in order of their importance.
The survey revealed that with out fail the
missionary was rated at the bottom, even below janitor. Since I was a
missionary and since we had just taken on the janitor's job, I
suggested that the survey might show that we were social
climbers.
One last account before we leave. We were
speaking in a small church in northern Wyoming, and were going to
drop our son off at a camp in Montana after church. It was a long way out of the way to return
to the main highway north so I asked one of the deacons if it was
possible to make it into Montana from the church the back way.
Of course you can, let me tell you how
easy it is. You go north and bear right when you get to the forks in
the road. There will be a couple of forks in the road and just take
the right branch and you will end up in Montana. As we progressed up the long dusty road we
had about decided that we had missed the first fork. We had been
driving for a long time and no fork in the road. Finally, a fork
arose and we took the right branch, another fork in the road and the
right branch, another fork and the right branch, another fork and the
right branch, another fork - well you get the story.
After I don't know how many forks we ended
up on a dead end road going up a mountain. We decided finally that
something was wrong. My wife remembered something that one of the men
had said about driving through his ranch yard. We arrived back at the only buildings in a
LONG way, and sure enough there was a little trail - you know one of
those roads that is made up of two tire tracks and grass in the
middle. Well, to end the story before your throat is completely full
of dust, we drove up this trail for a little way and it turned into a
nice gravel road that took us into Montana. (I won't bore you with
the quality of the road to the camp - a long way on large sharp rocks
that they call gravel in that state, on two bare tires - God must
have had his hands around those tires on that trip!)
As I close these thoughts I am reminded that
a pulpit is many things! It is utilitarian to the preacher, though
its utility is questionable at times if it is too short, too tall,
too small, or too shaky. It is an expression of its makers desire to
combine purpose with beauty and utility. It, at times, is an
expression of its congregation - some go to great lengths to choose
just the right one. It may be clean or at times it may be a catch
all. It is a place to store song books or a mounting place for the
sound system. This is especially nice for the pastor with a sleepy
audience - he can just reach down and turn up the volume. It is a
place for children to hide, but most of all it is a place from which
the Word of God is taught and proclaimed. This work is not to deride the pulpit nor to
raise the congregation's curiosity about what's under it. This work
is to share a few of the fun experiences which God has blessed us
with as we've moved from pulpit to pulpit over the years as we have
been allowed to minister His Word. One last pulpit which I would like to tell
you about is one that was not overly messy, nor overly clean. It was
not overly beautiful, nor overly plain. It was not overly comical,
nor overly boring, but it most certainly was the pulpit which
ministered to my heart the most. We were asked to interim pastor a church in
southeastern Wyoming for several months. Many neat things occurred
while we were in that ministry, and little of it came through any
efforts of our own. The first morning, I was preaching on the
woman's place in the home and/or in the work place. I began by
telling the congregation of some of the things I was not going to
tell them, and then listed some things that I was going to tell them.
In short, I told the people that it is not wrong for a woman to work
outside of the home. As I verbalized this thought a young woman in
one of the front rows gave her husband a good shot with her elbow in
his side. They were smiling and agreeing with me all through the
message. After church she shared that she was a
working mom and that she was encouraged to hear my stand on the
subject. She also mentioned that she had not had a lot of Christian
support for her work outside the home. As we ministered in this church we saw
several people come to know the Lord - not from our ministry - from
the witnessing of the church people to those outside of the church.
That is what church is all about! The congregation and leadership
witnessing in the work-a-day world and bringing the converts into the
church for training. We saw a group of people that worked
together to fulfill their mutual needs of spiritual growth and
maturity. They were all involved in the church work, and many were
involved in Bible studies etc. outside of the church as
well. We observed a praying church. They did not
have an official prayer service all the time, but while we were there
I gave a devotional on Wednesday evening followed by prayer. I kept
track of the prayer requests and answers for several months and found
that over ninety percent of the prayer requests were answered in the
positive and many of them within days of the request being
made. We witnessed a real openness to the ministry
of the Word. In all those weeks, I would observe that someone was
especially attentive to the message, and often they would tell me
that the Word had ministered to them very specifically that
day. We saw the congregation come together in
planning of different functions, we saw the congregation grow, we saw
the congregation mature - not by how I was doing my job, but merely
by the power of the Holy Spirit working among His people through His
Word. May the pulpits of America continue to be
used for the preaching of HIS MESSAGE, and for nothing else. I have
heard of pulpits used for the telling of leisure travel abroad, for
the singing of secular songs, for all sorts of things - LET US KEEP
THEM FOR THE USE FOR WHICH THEY WERE DESIGNED - THE PREACHING OF THE
WORD AND THE LEADING OF WORSHIP OF OUR GREAT GOD.