Sometimes, to understand a story you need to know one key point.

In eighth grade, our teacher instructed us to give an oral book report on a book of our choice. One of my classmates selected the classic Old Yeller. For his book report, he talked about how 14-year-old Travis found and reluctantly adopted the stray dog he named Old Yeller. He recounted some of Old Yeller’s adventures . . . and pronounced it a very good book. Our teacher looked at him. “Anything else about the story that you want to add?” And at that moment it dawned on some of us: our friend hadn’t finished the book! He hadn’t read far enough to encounter one of the most famous tragic endings in children’s literature: Old Yeller dies at the end. (Sorry for the spoiler, but the book was published in 1956!) To know Old Yeller you need to know the key point in the story, which in this case is the ending.

To understand the Bible, you need to know this: Jesus Christ, God incarnate, lived, died, and rose to give freely the forgiveness of sins and new life. The good news about Jesus is the heart of the Scriptures, which testify about him (John 5:39). And to know the gospel, we need to know the law, which exposes our sin and our need for Jesus. “The distinction between law and gospel is a particularly glorious light. It serves to divide God’s Word properly and to explain correctly and make understandable the writings of the holy prophets and apostles.”¹ (FC SD V 1) Without law and gospel, you can’t know the Bible.

The third thread in the Tapestry of Preaching, therefore, is evangelical proclamation, the proclamation of law and gospel. “This thread of discourse is the heart of Lutheran preaching.” (The first article in this series introduced us to the Tapestry of Preaching. Author David Schmitt compares a sermon to a tapestry, in which four “threads of discourse” are woven together. The four threads: textual exposition, theological confession, evangelical proclamation, and hearer interpretation. The full “Tapestry of Preaching” essay may be found here; unless otherwise noted, all quotations come from this essay.)

David Schmitt outlines three vital functions of evangelical proclamation. “First, it reveals sin and proclaims forgiveness in order to create and sustain faith. Through such discourse, God kills and makes alive. He condemns sin and reveals salvation. He brings hearers to repentance and creates newness of life.” One point Schmitt emphasizes here is that evangelical proclamation is “present tense. While referencing the cross and resurrection, it does more than teach the hearers about these things. It brings the benefits of that action to the hearers now.” While Schmitt refers to Gerhard Forde in this regard, I recalled someone closer to home, Richard Gurgel (perhaps echoing Forde), and a brief he wrote for homiletics classes at Wisconsin Lutheran Seminary. A couple of excerpts from that essay—note the contrast between talking about the gospel and proclaiming the gospel.

It’s the difference between telling them that God forgives sin and actually speaking the consoling word of absolution for just the specific sin the text has exposed in their hearts. . . . Notice the difference between: “Isn’t it wonderful that Jesus forgives us for our doubt about his care for us!” and “Jesus takes all your doubt about his love and drowns it in the depths of the sea of his forgiveness!” The first assumes the gospel as cognitive information already possessed and talks about our reaction to that past event. The second recognizes the gospel as present power to be applied in the moment of preaching. . . . It’s the difference between treating preaching as if it is merely reciting history and approaching each sermon as our opportunity to be part of God’s present-tense-the-kingdom-of-God-is-near-you activity right as we speak.²

These thoughts mesh with David Schmitt’s basic definition of evangelical proclamation: “the present tense proclamation of the forgiveness of sins on the basis of the death and resurrection of Christ.” The first function of evangelical proclamation, then, is to proclaim the gospel, knowing that the power of the Spirit is at work in hearts when we do. This may be obvious, but we dare not forget it, lest we and our hearers miss the key point of the story that we all absolutely need to know!

A second function of evangelical proclamation is one I find particularly valuable: “it models the variety of such proclamation in Scripture.” We aim not only to proclaim the gospel, but to proclaim it using the vivid and varied pictures, poetry, and metaphors that the Spirit inspired. Schmitt says it well: “Evangelical proclamation is not the formulaic repetition of law and gospel vocables at some point in the sermon, as if God works by magical incantation. Instead, it is a living proclamation of God’s gracious work among his people that varies in vocables from Sunday to Sunday.” Richard Gurgel is again on the same page, as he urges preachers to pay attention to the different metaphors used in Scripture. We certainly affirm the doctrine of forensic justification, “but nowhere did anyone intend to send the message that there is only one metaphor Lutherans can use when preaching or teaching the doctrine of justification.”³ Many pictures and metaphors uniquely and vividly depict the gospel. Gurgel cites the parable of the prodigal son as a prime example. Or, as David Schmitt expresses it, “Different sermons will use different metaphors and yet always preach the same message of salvation. By attending to the varied language of Scripture, evangelical proclamation is freeing but not formulaic.”

Finally, evangelical proclamation in a sermon “centers the teachings and experiences of the sermon in the death and resurrection of Christ so that text and teaching reveal, and are received as, God’s gracious work.” David Schmitt uses prayer as an example. When we preach about prayer, our encouragements to pray can sound—though this is not our intention—burdensome. “Another reminder that I’m not praying as much or as fervently as I should,” listeners can think. But when such encouragements are rooted in gospel proclamation, depicted with variety and vitality, the burden is lifted and prayer can be seen as a gift from our loving God.

The proper distinction of law and gospel ensures that such teaching is heard as a delight rather than a burden. God offers prayer as a gift, a privilege freely given to his people who have been forgiven of sin and brought to faith in Christ. Secure in God’s grace, longing for God’s kingdom, God’s people are given the privilege to pray that it might come unto us all. The hearers, then, walk away from the sermon not despondent over failures, not burdened by how to integrate prayer into daily living, but secure in God’s grace, comforted by God’s work, and delighted by his gifts.

The gospel is the key point that makes sense of the whole story.

Next time we’ll think more about connecting with listeners as we consider the fourth thread in the tapestry, hearer interpretation.

This article in Devote Yourself was contributed by the team that previously created and distributed Preach the Word. View past preaching-related articles at worship.welsrc.net/downloads-worship/preach-the-word.

¹ Robert Kolb, Timothy J. Wengert, and Charles P. Arand, The Book of Concord: The Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2000), 581.
² Richard Gurgel, “Recognizing the Difference Between Talking About Law & Gospel and Actually Proclaiming Law & Gospel” (unpublished essay).
³ Richard Gurgel, “The Preferred Lutheran Gospel Metaphor” (unpublished essay). Richard Gurgel refers to the book Just Words by J. A. O. Preus on this topic—a book that preachers may find valuable.