There is a rich heritage of classical homiletical literature available to us today. The names of the most prominent authors, if not the titles of their books, are predictable: Broadus, Brooks, Spurgeon, Meyer, Morgan, Newton, Parker, Stewart, Jowett, Luccock. By including authors of books of sermons, the list could be quickly expanded: Robertson, Edwards, Fosdick, Moody, King, et al. and the list is a dynamic one. By the end of this century it may be appropriate to include Blackwood or Buechner or Schoemaker or Graham. 

Articles and books on preaching, as in every theological discipline, are always helpful because of the innate urgency of our work. However, in the past few years preaching has come under new scrutiny. Time magazine recently observed that American Preaching could be a dying art.^[1]American Preaching: A Dying Art?” Time, December 31, 1979, Vol. 114, No. 27, pages 64-67. Newspapers in at least two large cities in the United States have revived an old tradition of printing weekly reviews of worship services with particular analysis of the sermon. The consensus of the reviewers is that preaching is a dying art. But this has often been the consensus, and often with justification. One reason that the “greater lights” in the history of preaching stand out is because there have always been so many “lesser lights” to provide a dark, mosaic background. But the need for strong, challenging and appealing biblical preaching persists, so preaching persists. How did those “greater lights” cope with this persistent need? What advice would they offer preachers today (for today is just as viable for good preaching as their day was)? 

This article will review and excerpt only books written about preaching and then only those which have endured with potential benefits for preaching today. The number and length of these books may be discouraging if time for reading is as infrequent as the troubling of the waters of Bethesda. Perhaps, through this brief survey, you may find a particular author or a particular topic that would gird a specific area of your preaching. Reading at least one of these “must read” books on homiletics would assist you in meeting the need for strong, challenging, appealing biblical sermons. 

John A. Broadus, 1827-1895 

The oldest most continuously used book on homiletics was written more than one hundred years ago by a Southern Baptist. John A. Broadus completed the manuscript and proof read the galleys of his A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons^[2]John A. Broadus, A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons. New York: A.C. Armstrong & Co., 8370. shortly before departing on an overseas trip in 1870. When he returned he found that his book was an immediate success. It was adopted as a textbook in seminaries throughout the United States; two editions were published in England to be used by pastors in general as well as in theological training schools. By 1898 Broadus’ book was used in Japanese mission schools in its English edition, had been translated into Chinese for use in mission schools in China, and was about to be published in Portuguese for use in mission schools in Brazil. 

E.C. Dargan revised the book in 1897. Among his reasons for revising the book at that time, Dargan listed the fact that “. . . the original stereotypes have become greatly worn . . .” by repeated printings.^[3]Broadus, revised by E. C. Dargan, A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons. New York: George H. Doran Co., 1898, p. vi.   J. B.  Weatherspoon revised the book again in 1943. Dargan and Weatherspoon both updated the language of the book and incorporated references from current books on homiletics. A third revision, by V. L. Stanfield was published in 1979. Peruse the bibliographies of books on preaching published in the past one hundred years. You will find that there is a consistent pattern of reference, if not dependence, on A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons by John A. Broadus in either its original form or one of its revisions. 

Broadus was a pastor, teacher, seminary president, and a scholar. His commentary on Matthew in the American Commentary series remains a significant contribution in New Testament studies. Broadus pastored churches in Virginia and South Carolina until 1889 when he accepted the presidency of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. In the same year he became the first Southern Baptist to deliver the Lyman Beecher Lectures on preaching. 

In the preface to the first edition of A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons Broadus cited a need for such a book: 

As a teacher of Homiletics for ten years, the author had felt the need of a more complete textbook, since a course made up from parts of several different works would still omit certain important subjects, and furnish but a meager treatment of others, leaving the class to a great extent dependent entirely upon the lectures. The desire thus arose to prepare, whenever possible, a work which should be full in its range of topics, and should also attempt to combine the thorough discussion of principles with an abundance of practical rules and suggestions.^[4]Broadus, op. cit., page v.

One of several unique contributions by Broadus is an analysis of what have become known as the functional elements of preaching — explanation, argumentation, illustration, and application. Broadus called them “Special Materials:” and sought to describe them rather than instruct: “. . . the method of handling them must vary indefinitely, according to the design of the sermon.”^[5]Ibid, p. 152.

He then offered his rationale for the use of explanation in a sermon: 

Preaching ought to be not merely convincing and persuasive, but eminently instructive. We often belabor men with arguments and appeals, when they are much more in need of practical and simple explanations, as regards what to do, and how to do it. And while some persons present may have repeatedly heard us explain certain important matters, we must not forget that there are others, children growing up, strangers moving in, converts entering the church, to whom such explanations will be new, and are in the highest degree necessary. 

But just the inexperienced minister may profit by several homely cautions. Do not attempt to explain what is not assuredly true. One sometimes finds great difficulty in working out explanation of a supposed fact or principle, because it is really not true. Do not undertake to explain what you do not understand. Oh the insufferable weariness of listening to a man who does this! And in preaching as well as elsewhere, it happens so often as to be ridiculous, if it were not mournful. How can the housewife cook what has never been caught? How can the preacher explain what he does not understand? Never try to explain what cannot be explained. Some things taught in the Bible are in their essence incomprehensible; as, for example, the nature of the Trinity, or the coexistence of absolute divine predestination with human freedom and accountability. In such a case it is very important to explain just what the Scriptures really do teach, so as to remove misapprehensions; and it may sometimes be worth while to present any remote analogies in other spheres of existence, so as perhaps to diminish the hearer’s unwillingness to receive the doctrine; but attempts to explain the essential difficulty must necessarily fail, and the failure will react so as only to strengthen doubt and opposition. Do not waste time in explaining what does not need explanation. A conspicuous instance is the nature of faith. Men frequently complain that they do not understand what it really is to believe, and preachers are constantly laboring to explain. But the complaint is in many cases a mere excuse for rejection or delay, and the real difficulty is in all cases a lack of disposition to believe. Elaborate explanations do not lessen this indisposition, do but strengthen the supposed excuse, and may even embarrass the anxious inquirer with the notion that there is something very mysterious about faith, when it is in fact so simple as not to admit of being explained. Our main duty is to tell the people what to believe, and why they should believe it.^[6]Ibid., pp. 153-155.  

The chapter on argumentation elicited some of Broadus’ severest instruction: 

Some forms of error, which exalt the intellectual at the expense of the spiritual, gain much acceptance, particularly with a certain class of minds, by the argumentative garb in which they appear. The teachers of these errors come to men accustomed to a sleepy acquiescence in truths which they have never heard vigorously discussed, bring their powers of argument into agreeable exercise, and they are won. Even those who maintain sound doctrine, sometimes support it by very unsound reasoning, and thereby leave the way open for some shrewd opponent to overthrow their arguments, and thus appear to overthrow their doctrine. 

Every preacher, then, ought to develop and discipline his powers in respect to argument. If averse to reasoning, he should constrain himself to practise it; if by nature strongly inclined that way, he must remember the serious danger of deceiving himself and others by false arguments. One who has not carefully studied some good treatise of Logic should take the earliest opportunity to do so. It will render his mind sharper to detect fallacy, in others or in himself, and will help to establish him in the habit of reasoning soundly. The fact that, as so often sneeringly remarked, “preachers are never replied to,” should make it a point of honor with preachers not to mislead their hearers by bad logic, and should render them exceedingly solicitous to avoid those self-deceptions, which they have no keen opponent to reveal.^[7]Ibid., pp. 169-170.

Phillips Brooks, 1835-1883 

Brooks’ famous definition of preaching was expounded just seven years after Broadus published his book on preaching. These contemporary preaching masters are remembered for extremely different reasons: Broadus for his lengthy and exhaustive Treatise on preaching, and Brooks for his concise definition of preaching. Brooks was not eloquent, but communicated a tremendous love for God, for the Bible, and for people. His preaching had the effect of uplifting his congregation by showing them how to relate to God and how scripture related to them He was an Episcopalian and pastored churches in Philadelphia and Boston.  

Brooks’ definition of preaching was offered in the first of his lectures after lengthy and somewhat self-deprecating introductory remarks: 

What, then, is preaching, of which we are to speak? It is not hard to find a definition. Preaching is the communication of truth by man to men. It has in it two essential elements, truth and personality. Neither of those can it spare and still be preaching. The truest truth, the most authoritative statement of Gods’ will, communicated in any other way than through the vivid personality of the men who wrote its pages has well nigh faded out of it in neither of these cases is there any preaching. And on the other hand, if men speak to other men that which they do not claim for truth, if they use their powers of persuasion or of entertainment to make other men listen to their speculations, or do their will, or applaud their cleverness that is not preaching either. The first lacks personality. The second lacks truth. And preaching is the bringing of truth through personality. It must have both elements. It is in the different proportion in which the two are mingled that the difference between two great classes of sermons and preaching lies. It is in the defect of one or the other element that every sermon and preacher falls short of the perfect standard. It is in the absence of one or the other element that a discourse ceases to be a sermon, and a man ceases to be a preacher altogether.^[8]Phillips Brooks, Lectures on Preaching. London: H. B. Allenson, Ltd. c. 1914, pages 5-6. 

Charles H. Spurgeon, 1834-1892 

Obviously the nineteenth century was a prolific era for preaching! Few men have preached to as consistently large crowds as did Spurgeon. In 1861 the six thoustand [sic] seat Metropolitan Tabernacle was opened for worship in London. It was not large enough to accommodate those who wanted to hear him. Spurgeon was a biblical preacher who employed sensory appeal throughout his sermons (e.g. “Look to Jesus” or “Hear the word of the Lord”). But Spurgeon also spoke forcefully and simply. He did not use overly involved reasoning or highly technical jargon. He advised his students: 

If you would be fluent, that is to say flowing, be filled with all knowledge and especially with the knowledge of Christ Jesus your Lord. But we remarked that a fund of expressions would be also of much help to the extempore speaker; and, truly, second only to a store of ideas is a rich vocabulary. Beauties of language, elegancies of speech, and above all forcible sentences are to be selected, remembered and initated [sic]. 

You are not to carry that gold pencil-case with you, and jot down every polysyllabic word which you meet in your reading, so as to put it in your next sermon, but you are to know what words mean, to be able to estimate the power of a synonym, to judge the rhythm of a sentence and to weigh the force of an expletive. You must be masters of words; they must be your genii, your angels, your thunderbolts, or your drops of honey. Mere word–gatherers are hoarders of oyster shells, bean husks and apple-parings, but to a man who has wide information and deep thought, words are baskets of silver in which to serve up his apples of gold. See to it that you have a good team of words to draw the wagon of your thoughts.^[9]Charles H. Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students, Edited by David Otis Fuller. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1940, page 124.

But Spurgeon, likewise, could not tolerate inanities: 

My brethren, it is a hideous gift to possess — to be able to say nothing at extreme length. Elongated nonsense, paraphrastic platitude, wire-drawn commonplace, or sacred rhodomontade, are common enough, and are the scandal and shame of extemporizing. Even when sentiments of no value are beautifully expressed, and neatly worded, what is the use of them? Out of nothing comes nothing. Extemporary speech without study is a cloud without rain, as well without water, a fatal gift, injurious equally to its possessor and his flock.^[10]Ibid., page 131.

F. B. Meyer, 1847-1929

Meyer enjoyed intensive biblical study. As he immersed himself in exegetical work, he developed sermon outlines. By this approach to sermon preparation, Meyer was convinced that expository preaching, with strong application, was the best approach not only for him but for many other preachers as well. Expository preaching with strong application was unusual for his day, as it often is today. Meyer could not abide preachers who pontifically presented every daghesh lene and iota subscript without demonstrating what relationship they had, if any, to the congregation. Distressed by the negative, didactic connotations aroused by the words “expository preaching,” Meyer decided to write a book on the subject. Before submitting his own definition, Meyer suggested what expository preaching is not: 

It is necessary to indicate the mistakes that have been made in regard to the nature of the kind of preaching for which we plead — mistakes which have brought it into disrepute in many quarters. We do not mean, for instance, that the preacher should take a longer or shorter chapter and preface his remarks by saying, “Dear brethren, I propose to make a few remarks on this portion of Scripture,” and so proceed to utter a few pious platitudes about the successive verse. This is milk and water with a vengenace [sic], especially water, and that not hot. If the man of the world were to drop into such a parody of preaching, he might fairly go off after the first five minutes, thinking that religion might do well enough for women and children, but had nothing for him. A preacher of that sort, giving a lecture on the Minor Prophets, came finally to the Book of Amos. “We have now come to Amos,” he said; “what shall we do with him?” A man sitting in the rear of the house said, loud enough to be heard by his neighbours, “he can have my seat, for I’m going home.” This is one great advantage in open-air preaching; the audience departs unless there is enough honey to attract and keep the bees.^[11]F. B. Meyers, Expository Preaching: Plans 6- Methods. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1954, pages 30-31.

Meyer cited several other mistaken notions about expository preaching and then offered his own definition: 

We are now able, in the light of these distinctions, to define expository preaching as the consecutive treatment of some book or extended portion of Scripture on which he has thought and wept and prayed, until it has yielded up its inner secret, and the spirit of it has passed into his spirit.^[12]Ibid., page 32.

G. Campbell Morgan, 1863-1945

Morgan became a by-word in sermon preparation in the United States during the first quarter of the twentieth century. You may still find an elderly pastor who remembers hearing Morgan as he crisscrossed America to both preach and teach. The vitality of the man was such that he was called to his last pastorate at the age of seventy-two and retired at the age of eighty! You can almost hear the ring of conviction when you read Morgan’s lectures on preaching: 

The supreme work of the Christian minister is the work of preaching. This is a day in which one of our greatest perils is that of doing a thousand little things to the neglect of the one thing which is preaching. If preaching is proclaiming good news, that suggests two things: the need of man, and the grace of God. Those two things are postulated by the very word that is used to describe preaching from the New Testament standpoint. Proclamation of the good news to men will suggest that men are needing good news. Human need is the background. All the race’s sin and sorrow and perplexity are implied. Then, of course, it recognises the whole fact of grace that stupendous fact of Divine revelation, the grace of God. Preaching as proclaiming good news postulates human need and Divine grace. Whenever we preach, we stand between those two things, between human and Divine grace. We are the messengers of that grace to that need. 

Merge these two things very briefly. What is preaching? It has a hundred particulars and varieties and intentions. But here is the unifying thought. Preaching is the declaration of the grace of God to human need on the authority of the Throne of God; and it demands on the part of those who hear that they show obedience to the thing declared.^[13]G. Campbell Morgan, Preaching. London: Marshall, S.C.M. Press, 1955, pages 11-12.

Joseph Fort Newton, 1878-1950 

Today, we would call Joseph Fort Newton an activist. He longed to see the church fulfill a significant, meaningful role in society. He became impatient with Southern Baptists and left the denomination to become a Universalist and finally became an Episcopalian. Newton felt that a reevaluation of preaching was one of the necessary steps leading the church to have a stronger impact on society. Newton was dismayed that preachers in general seemed to be unaware of new modes of thinking, so he developed a style he termed “inductive preaching” which he described: 

. . . it puts no weight in the text at first, but begins with near-by facts familiar to all, using popular illustrations . . .  

The method of Jesus was distinctly inductive, as we see in all his parables. He knew that men are discoverers, and not least in the things of the spirit. He really had but one text — the greatest words ever uttered upon the earth, profounder than all philosophies and the fulfillment of every faith — “God is love”; but he never quoted it, much less assumed its truth as accepted. Instead, he began with facts from the life around him, and these were presented with exquisite art, converging upon his main thesis. A man giving his child bread, a farmer pulling his ox out of the pit, a father receiving a prodigal son home, a hen and her chicks, a wayside flower, a childish game, red sunsets, a wedding party, baking a loaf of bread — all life became at his touch an infinite parable of the truth that makes life worth living, investing these our days and years with epic worth and wonder. It is to be noted that he always used this method in speaking to the stranger, the doubter, and the sinner, and, since he has done more good than all of us put together, it behooves us to follow his lead.^[14]Joseph Fort Newton, The New Preaching. London S.C.M. Press, n.d., pages 142-143.

Joseph Parker, 1830-1902 

When Joseph Parker was called to pastor the Poultry Chapel in London in 1869, he advised the church to immediately begin construction of a larger building. Parker, never lacking in self-confidence, accurately foresaw that he would be commanding much larger attendance than the Chapel had ever experienced. The result was construction of the City Temple of London. With competition such as Charles H. Spurgeon, Alexander MacLaren, and F.B. Meyer, Parker felt that he was receiving only as much public attention as his healthy ego felt he was due. 

Parker enjoyed preaching. He had a quick, often sarcastic wit and a direct, concise manner of speaking both of which he used in his preaching and in his lectures to ministerial students. The following excerpt was taken from a published lecture: 

Be earnest; be natural; be as unlike a book as possible, — that is about all I have to say upon the science of homiletics. These are only heads, however; and, after the manner of preachers, you will look for a little expansion. . . . There are men who unhappily imagine that it is necessary to be fussy in order to be earnest, and who wear a label on which is written, in colored letters, “This is an earnest man!” When a man is really earnest, he needs no label; he is a living epistle; his whole life is his commendation. The most earnest men whom I have ever known, whether in business or in the ministry, have made their earnestness felt rather than heard; . . . They have made this felt, not by the production of diaries or memoranda of service and engagement, but by an influence at one penetrating and inexplicable. It is very remarkable, too, that such men have been able to secure a tranquillity [sic] which has led heedless observers to infer that they were but little in earnest about anything, — they were so quiet, so methodcial [sic], so unhurried! On the other hand, there have been fussy and effusive men who have acquired a great reputation for earnestness, when they should justly have a name for making a great noise and a great dust. Such men have generally lost themselves in petty details; they have no clear plan, no broad and far-reaching lines of movement; their programme is made up of hop, skip, and jump, whimsically varied with jump, skip, and hop; you will have no difficulty in identifying the men when you have to suffer from the noise and dust in which their shallow lives are wasted, but you may have a momentary difficulty in clearing your way of their vexatious intrusion.^[15]Joseph Parker, Ad Clerum: Advices to Young Preachers. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1871, pp. 10-11.

James S. Stewart, 1896- 

Stewart retired in 1966. He had been a pastor, teacher, and lecturer. He was a popular preacher who was comfortable with both evangelistic and ethical emphases in his sermons. Stewart was invited to deliver the Warrack Lectures at the University of Edinburgh. The lectures were published in 1946 titled Heralds of God. Stewart, as did Parker, spoke in a clear, forthright manner. He did not exalt preaching, but had a profound respect for it. In the first sentence of the preface of Heralds of God, Stewart wrote: 

I have chosen the title of this book to stress the fundamental fact, namely that preaching exists, not for the propagating views, opinions and ideals, but for the proclamation of the mightly acts of God.^[16]James S. Stewart, Heralds of God. London: Hodder & Stoughton, Ltd., 1946, p. 5.

Stewart despised empty traditions which many preachers allow to dictate the form of their sermons. Referring in particular to the body of the sermon, Stewart advised: 

Is the time-honoured usage of divisions — “heads,” as they are called — to be recommended? My advice would be to avoid any slavish bondage to tradition at this point. It is certainly not necessary that all sermons, like Gaul, should be divided into three parts There is no intrinsic sanctity in the tripartite sermon division, nor is it (as some appear to hold) a prerequisite of sound doctrine and essential to salvation. Sometimes your discourse may have six heads, sometimes more. Vary your methods deliberately. Cultivate flexibility. It is bad to cast all your sermons in one mould [sic], so that people know infallibly in advance what shape they will be. Principal Rainy once spoke of sermons to which congregations listened “with respectful resignation, forseeing [sic] clearly how it was all to be, and conscious that mental consuetude had superseded mental life.” Refuse to allow any one form of sermon structure to dominate your preaching. In any case, a sermon ought to be a living thing of flesh and blood: do not, therefore, let the bones of the skeleton obtrude themselves unduly. It is the finished building men want to see, not the builder’s scaffolding.^[17]Ibid., page 131.

Stewart spoke clearly and with appeal and was amazed that a preacher would speak any other way: 

It may be well at this point to say something on the question of language. Two pitfalls against which I have already warned you are professionalism of vocabulary or pulpit jargon, and the temptations of the purple passage: On these nothing further need be said. Let me rather go on to stress one great positive rule which ought to determine your choice of language throughout: Be simple and direct: “People think/’ exclaimed Matthew Arnold, “that I can teach them style. What stuff it all is! Have something to say, and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret of style.” Surely Arnold was right. Every man at Pentecost heard the Gospel, we are told, in his own tongue; and that is the basic condition of effective preaching still. Have something to say, and when you are saying it avoid periphrasis and over-elaboration: say it as clearly as you can. Dr. L. P. Jacks maintains that “two lines of Wordsworth — 

But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!
are a more adequate expression of human grief than
all the funeral sermons ever preached.” It is simply
directness, not literary embellishment, that moves the
hearts of men.^[18]Ibid., pages 149-150.

John Henry Jowett, 1864-1923 

Jowett enjoyed hard work. His diligence was admired and recognized by Carr’s Lane Congregational Church in London. The church invited Jowett to be their pastor when Jowett was twenty-one years old. It was his first pastorate. He filled the one thousand seat auditorium regularly from 1895 to 1911 when he accepted the pastorate of the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York City. In 1918 he returned to post-war London as pastor of Westminster Chapel. These were his only pastorates. 

Jowett delivered the Beecher Lectures at Yale in 1912. The lectures were published that year as The Preacher: His Life and Work. This excerpt from the fourth lecture describes his passion for hard work: 

I would urge upon all young preachers, amid all their other reading, to be always engaged in the comprehensive study of some one book in the Bible. Let that book be studied with all the strenuous mental habits of a man’s student days. Let him put into it the deliberate diligence, the painstaking care, the steady persistence with which he prepared for exacting examinations, and let him assign a part of every day to attaining perfect mastery over it. You will find this habit to be of immeasurable value in the enrichment of your ministry. In the first place, it will give you breadth of vision, and, therefore, it will give you perspective and proportion. You will see every text as coloured and determined by its context, and indeed as related to vast provinces of truth which might otherwise seem remote and irrelevant. And you will be continually fertilizing your minds by discoveries and surprises which will keep you from boredom, and which will keep you from that wearinesome gin of commonplaces in whose accustomed grooves even the most stalwart grows faint. Wide journeyings and explorations of this kind will leave no trouble about texts. Texts will clamour for recognition, and your only trouble will be to find time to give them notice. The year will seem altogether too short to deal with the waiting process and to exhibit their wealth. Yes, you will be embarrassed with your riches instead of with your poverty. . . .^[19]John H. Jowett, The Preacher: His Life & Work. New York: George H. Doran Co., 1912, pages 119-121.

Halford Luccock, 1885-1960 

In 1916 St. Andrew’s Church in New Haven, Connecticut reluctantly informed their pastor that his annual salary must be reduced from one thousand dollars to eight hundred dollars. Luccock reluctantly informed his congregation that he would resign and accept a teaching position at Drew University. While we can sympathize with the church and their pastor, this was one of those blessings-in-disguise experiences. The blessings, however, have been enjoyed primarily by the field of homiletics. Luccock’s greatest contributions to homiletics came during his tenure (1928-1953) on the faculty of Yale University. He was one of many men who viewed preaching as an art form, but he was unique in the way he expressed his viewpoint: 

There is a further mystery about preaching, a providence of God without which we would all droop and faint, in that blessed illusion that if we do a creditable job one time out of twenty, we are buoyed up by the feeling that this one achievement is our true form. A merciful cloud blots out the nineteen misfires. That same joyous illusion operates notably in gold. A man may go around the course with a sum total of a hundred more-or-less dub shots. And then comes the miracle — a clean, hard drive which sends the ball singing on its flight, making a celestial music to which only a golfer’s ear is attuned. Then he lifts his head, squares his shoulders, feels the equivalent of a Te Deum, and says, “Now I am hitting that one shot puts to flight any painful recollection of the that one shot puts toflight any plainful recollection of the ninety and nine hooks and slices and divot digging. That sustaining mystery of preaching — call it illusion if you will — is a special grace by which the preacher is enabled to obey the command, “But not weary in well doing.” But it is present only when one has a craftsman’s interest in his tools and tasks.^[20]Halford E. Luccock, In the Minister’s Workshop. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1944, page 33.

As this brief sampling of classic contributions from preaching masters indicates, there is an abundance of delightful, often humorous, always informative reading available to us. This kind of reading may save you time in sermon preparation. This kind of reading, however, will not, because it cannot, enable you to prepare sermons in “ten easy steps in just five minutes a day.” The consistent common denominator of all great preachers has been two fold: “natural” ability and hard work. The old philosophy of one hour of preparation for every minute of preaching has necessarily gone the way of corsets — too binding for no more than it accomplished. But since preaching integrates all of the theological disciplines, current events and the totality of the person doing the preaching, careful attention must be given to sermon preparation. Reading some of these classical homiletic contributions will add perspective as well as provide inspiration for the task.