Every pastor has heard it, kindly meant, usually on the way out the door. And every honest pastor has thought about it long after. “Pastor, I love the teaching. But I need more application. Tell me what to do with it on Tuesday.” Tuesday, meaning ordinary life: the kitchen, the commute, the difficult marriage, the plain weekday where obedience actually happens. It is a fair request, and I want to take it seriously rather than defensively, because Scripture itself refuses to leave truth un-applied.

The Bible commands, corrects, trains, and reproves. James will not let us be hearers only. Any preaching that never reaches your marriage, your money, your speech, and your workplace has not yet finished its assignment.

But I want to tell you what I have learned about where application actually comes from, because the New Testament’s answer surprised me. It may also surprise you. The deepest application in the New Testament is not first a list. It is a look.

Here is the verse that convinced me. “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

Read it slowly and notice what Paul puts together, because he is describing how a Christian actually changes. As we behold the glory of the Lord, we are being transformed into the same image, and Paul is emphatic about where the transformation comes from: “the Lord who is the Spirit.” He does not say, “beholding the glory of the Lord, we then implement several principles.”

The sight itself, sustained, unveiled, repeated, is what the Spirit uses to make us like Christ. Sanctification, in that sentence, is optics before it is effort. Not sight instead of effort, but Spirit-enabled effort born from sight.

Again and again, the New Testament works this way. Hebrews tells the weary to run their race “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2). John says of the Lord’s appearing, “we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is,” and then adds that everyone who has this hope “purifies himself” (1 John 3:2–3). The future sight will complete our conformity to Him, and the hope of that sight purifies us even now.

Even the great chapters of commands are built this way. Ephesians spends three chapters doing almost nothing but showing you what God has done in Christ before a single instruction arrives, and when the instructions do arrive, wonderfully concrete ones about speech and marriage and work, every one of them is drawing its power from the sight that came first.

Let me give you the picture that has helped me most. Nobody glances at the Grand Canyon. Or almost nobody. I stood at the rim once, gazing, when an expensive sports car pulled up and out stepped a young man who looked like he had the world at his feet. He walked to the edge. He looked. Eight seconds, maybe, certainly not fifteen. Then he said, out loud, “Wow. Cool.”

He turned, walked back to his car, and drove away. Those of us left standing there were simply stunned. I am sure he drove off thinking he had seen the Grand Canyon, and technically he had. But a gaze that short cannot take in a canyon. He looked without ever really seeing. You stand at the rim, and the longer you stand, the bigger it gets, and something happens to you that no brochure about the canyon could do.

What would we have said to that young man if he had turned and asked, “Yes, but what am I supposed to do with this?” We would have said: friend, right now, your assignment is to look. The looking is not the delay before the real business. At the rim, the looking is the real business, and you will drive away a slightly different man because you did it.

The old writers of our tradition understood this deeply. Robert Murray M’Cheyne wrote in a letter, “For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ.” Thomas Chalmers supplied the theology behind that counsel in the very title of a famous sermon, “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection”: you do not pry a sinful love out of the human heart by instruction alone; you displace it with a greater love, and greater love comes from a greater sight. (Isaac Ambrose said it in a book title alone: Looking Unto Jesus.) These men were not soft on obedience. They were wise about where obedience comes from.

And the conviction is not antique. John MacArthur, often criticized for giving too little of what people call application, answers that effective preaching does three things: it explains the meaning of the text, it presses the implications built into that meaning, and it exhorts the hearer to respond. Manufacture a stack of little scenarios, he says, and you may miss ninety percent of the room, the people whose lives your scenarios never touch. But make the implication of the text clear and sharp, and no one escapes, because “application belongs to the Spirit of God,” who drives the truth into the particular places of each life that only He can see. That is not laziness about obedience either. It is confidence about who does the piercing.

And this explains why the other kind of preaching fails, the kind that is all assignments and no rim. Give a congregation applications without first giving them Christ, and you will manufacture one of two things: proud people who are managing the list, or despairing people who are buried under it. That preaching has a name, and the name is moralism: commands detached from Christ and from the Spirit’s power. The law of God is holy, righteous, and good, and it tells us truly what righteousness requires; what it cannot do is give a dead heart life or create the love it commands. This is why I will not moralize a text for you, ever. Every command in my preaching must sit on top of something God has already done, or I have not preached it as Scripture gives it.

So here is what I am actually doing on a Sunday when I seem to slow down, when I linger at a verse you might think we had finished. I have started writing one word in my sermon notes more and more, and the word is “pause.” Those pauses are not padding. They are the application. When the text before us says, “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her,” that’s a moment when I simply stop. I do not move to the next point. I let the room sit inside the sentence. That is the application, doing its own work. I am trying to hold you at the rim for more than a glance, because I have come to believe that three unhurried seconds of actually seeing the Lord Jesus, crucified, risen, enthroned, interceding, can do more in you by the Spirit than three additional points from me. The transformation belongs to the beholding. My job is to open the Word, set Christ before you, and keep directing your eyes to Him. Only the Lord can take the veil away, and He loves to do it.

Does that mean Tuesday gets nothing? No. It means Tuesday gets something better than a list: it gets a reason. When we have truly seen Him together, I will still land the text where you live, usually in one place or two, named plainly. But you will notice those landings are short, and there is a reason for that too. Application that grows out of beholding does not need endless scaffolding. The sight has already supplied the reason for obedience.

There is a real place for concrete instruction, and sometimes extended instruction; a new believer may genuinely need to be shown what forgiveness looks like in practice. What instruction cannot do is supply the power to obey itself. The husband who has beheld Christ loving the church may still need the landing named, and I will name it: love her this week at cost to yourself, in one act she has stopped expecting. But he will not need seven sub-points. He needs the sight, one sentence, and the courage the sight just gave him. The look does not replace the landing. It makes the landing Christian.

So let me turn the request around, gently, into an invitation. Next Lord’s Day, come asking two questions in this order. First: what am I being shown? Stay with that one longer than feels natural. Behold, with more than a glance.

Then, second: where does this touch my Tuesday? Ask the second question only after the first has had its full time, and you will find, I think, what I keep finding, that the second question has often begun answering itself, because “beholding the glory of the Lord” we “are being transformed.”

That transformation is not the product of a preaching technique. It is the Spirit’s work. One day the beholding will be unbroken, and the transformation complete: “we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.”

Until then, this is the work, and it is the sweetest work in the world. Look at Him, and keep looking. To the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory forever and ever. Amen.

Sources

Robert Murray M’Cheyne, in Andrew Bonar, ed., Memoir and Remains of the Rev. Robert Murray M’Cheyne, letter to George Shaw, March 20, 1840. M’Cheyne set the sentence in quotation marks, apparently passing on older counsel; Thomas Chalmers quoted the same saying in an 1844 letter and attributed it to Richard Baxter. The two men paired above were passing the same sentence between them.

Thomas Chalmers, “The Expulsive Power of a New Affection,” widely reprinted.

John MacArthur, “John MacArthur on Sermon Application,” Grace to You, available at gty.org/sermons/GTY117.

Article: “If You Find Listening To Sermons Boring, Try This” by Mark Barnes – original source – https://www.logos.com/grow/listening-to-sermons/

Mark Barnes has twenty years of experience in pastoral ministry, holds an MPhil in Biblical Theology, and has served as visiting lecturer at Union School of Theology. He’s a former editor of Evangelical Magazine and has also written for Grace Magazine, Evangelicals Now, and Evangelical Times. He now serves as product manager for the Logos and Verbum apps and lives in the UK with his wife and two sons.

During my lifetime I reckon I’ve heard about 4,000 sermons. Often I have been challenged, uplifted, provoked, transformed. Sadly, other times, I have been bored.

I believe preaching is one of the most important things that the church can do. First Corinthians 1:21 says, “God was pleased through the foolishness of what was preached to save those who believe” (NIV).

But isn’t the way a sermon is heard at least as important as the way it is preached? Paul says “faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ” (Rom 10:17).

The writer to the Hebrews makes things even more explicit: “For we also have had the gospel preached to us, just as they did; but the message they heard was of no value to them, because those who heard did not combine it with faith” (Heb 4:2).

How to prepare for listening to a sermon

I am not known for my skills in home improvement, but I did once have a go at repainting a room. I spent hours with my paint roller, making sure I didn’t drip paint on the skirting boards and the paint was applied smoothly. When I finished, it looked very good! After it dried, I showed off my handiwork to a friend. They ran their hands appreciatively over the paint, but then suddenly, a large chunk of paint flaked off! The paint, even though it was fresh, was just peeling off the wall! 

What had gone wrong? 

I hadn’t prepared the walls properly. It seemed like too much work to sand down the walls and too much effort to use some primer. 

The result? 

Everything that I spent so much time doing simply didn’t stick.

I wonder whether that is true for us in church? We spend so much time listening to sermons, but it never seems to stick. Perhaps it’s because we haven’t prepared ourselves properly. It would be odd if your pastor turned up one Sunday with no notes and simply asked, “Has anyone got any ideas what I should preach on this morning?” But is that our attitude when we come to hear a sermon?

Prepare prayerfully

The most important preparation we can make is to prepare prayerfully. In Ephesians 6:19, Paul asked the church to “Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me” (BSB). In Colossians 4:3–4 he asks the same: “And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message … Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should.” We, too, should pray for clear, biblical, applied preaching.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know that each Sunday five people were praying that God would speak to you? So why don’t you pray for the five people sitting nearest to you in church? If everyone in church did that each Sunday, then everyone would be lifted to God in prayer.

As well as praying for others, we must also pray for ourselves. 

Many people pray when they come into church, and that’s a great habit. But our prayerful preparation shouldn’t begin when we sit in our pew. If preaching is important, we must invest time preparing for it, and we should pray before we leave our homes. How many of us miss our private devotions on a Sunday morning, then tell ourselves it doesn’t matter because we will be praying and reading God’s Word in church anyway? That is not a sign of prayerful preparation.

What should we pray for? We should pray for the sermon, the preacher, and the listeners. Prayer can help even uninspiring sermons hit their mark. Prayer can help preachers who are wrestling with their sinful nature and having a difficult day. Prayer can also help listeners who are distracted or hard-hearted or troubled.

Prepare thoroughly

A man went to see his doctor for advice about being cured of snoring. The doctor asked: 

“Does your snoring disturb your wife?” 

“My wife! Why, it disturbs the whole congregation!” 

So one thing we can do to help us prepare well for Sunday is to get to bed early on Saturday night.

Sometimes we can’t avoid a late night or disturbed sleep, but if we’re continually sleepy when we listen to preaching, there may be something wrong. Perhaps we’re not making hearing God speak enough of a priority?

Preparing thoroughly can also mean thinking about the message before you hear it. If you have regular expository preaching in your church, you probably know the passage on which next Sunday’s sermon will be based. Why not read it before you come to church? Discuss it with someone or even read a commentary. See if you can work out what the preacher’s points are going to be. By doing so, you’ll be thinking over God’s Word, and you’ll be ready and open for the Sunday preaching.

Prepare expectantly

We should look forward to the Sunday sermon. I know that sometimes the preaching in your church is not all you want it to be. You know what? Often it’s not all your pastor wants it to be either! But it’s not presumptuous or fanciful to expect God to bless us when he’s told us that preaching is a blessing. 

As the Bible puts it: “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor 4:7 ESV). We can be expectant because God is more than able to do amazing things with struggling preachers and half-hearted listeners and average sermons. He’s the one with surpassing power, not us.

How to listen to a sermon

A sermon is served as a Sunday dinner, not like an intravenous drip. It has to be chewed, digested, and swallowed. We cannot simply sit back and expect to be fed if we are not willing to play our part. So not only do we need to prepare for a sermon prayerfully, thoroughly, and expectantly, but we must also listen well. Here are a few ideas to get you thinking about how we should listen to sermons.

Listen worshipfully

Too often we equate worship with singing. Certainly, our singing ought to be worshipful, but the whole service is a worship service. Everything that we do during a Sunday service ought to be worshipful, and that includes listening to the sermon.

So what does it mean to listen worshipfully? Simply that we should respond to the preaching in a way that brings glory to God. So while we’re listening, we should pray short, silent prayers of praise, or ask God to help us to take the message to heart.

Listen attentively

Different people’s memories work in different ways, but taking notes can be a great benefit to listening attentively. Jotting down the main thoughts of a sermon helps keep your mind focused. Not every sermon is fitted for a point-by-point outline, but you can almost always identify the big ideas and Bible references. If taking notes doesn’t work for you, then think of other ways to help you listen attentively.

Listen critically

In Acts 17:11 Luke writes, “Now the Bereans were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true” (NIV). It’s important we trust our pastors and others who preach in our church. We need to be willing to submit to the authority of our church leaders, but we mustn’t  treat them like celebrities or make the mistake of thinking they’re infallible. We should not ask, “What did the preacher say this morning?” What we should be asking is “What did the Bible say this morning?”

Listen submissively

Having said that we should listen critically, we are not above God’s Word. If a preacher says it, maybe we should do it, maybe not. But if God says it, we should always obey. There can’t be any exceptions to that rule. The worst thing that can happen to us in a sermon (and I really mean this) is that we are challenged by God’s Word, but we harden our hearts and refuse to respond. That’s the worst of all outcomes.

How to respond to a sermon

So we’ve prepared to listen to a sermon prayerfully, thoroughly, and expectantly. We’ve listened worshipfully, attentively, critically, and submissively. That’s it, surely? No, there’s one last step— and that’s the most important of all. We must respond well. That’s the point of listening to sermons, after all.

Respond thoughtfully

One way of responding thoughtfully is to discuss the message with other people—for example, over Sunday lunch. (You’ve heard the old joke, I’m sure. Q: “What did you have for lunch today?” A: “Roast preacher.”)

Don‘t roast the preacher, but do discuss God’s Word. Surely the Word of God is more enlightening than politics, the weather, or sports? See who can remember the outline of the message. See if anyone caught the main application or if anyone can repeat the major verse or reference.

And why not take it a step further? 

Each week, see how the Word of God can be put into action in your life. Write down the date, the title of the message, the main idea, and an outline in a notebook. Then, ask questions like these: 

• What has God commanded? 
• How does he want me to change? 
• What habits do I need to get rid of? 
• What do I need to think about and pray over? 

Next Sunday, you can see how you’ve done at putting the Bible into practice. What prayer requests has God answered? Keeping a journal to remind us of God’s Word can be a great spiritual benefit.

Respond fully

Do you remember we said earlier that a sermon is like a Sunday lunch? Well, don’t leave the sprouts! Sometimes God’s Word has things to say that we may not like to hear but which we specifically need. We must not throw away the biblical truths that will challenge and change us.

Imagine you hear a sermon about the importance of resting on a Sunday. What we might like to hear and remember from that sermon is, “I should put my feet up today!” That’s what we’d like to hear, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the preacher’s main point, not indeed all that God was saying through his Word. If that’s our conclusion, we’ve eaten the sermon dessert but left the sprouts—we’ve left the part of the sermon that’s good for us. 

What God probably wants us to remember from that sermon is not, “I should put my feet up!” What God probably wants us to think about is, “What can I do to help myself and others rest on Sundays?”

So what’s the best way to tell if we really are listening to sermons? By looking at the way we live. Our lives should repeat the sermons that we have heard.

So how do we stop sermons from being boring? As Philip Ryken puts it, “With a soul that is prepared, a mind that is alert, a Bible that is open, a heart that is receptive, and a life that is ready to spring into action.”[¹

‘Tuning In’ by Philip Ryken, in Tabletalk Magazine, March 2003: The Power of Preaching. Lake Mary, FL: Ligonier Ministries, 2003.