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Written by Rev. Dr. Heather Henson, Director of Quest
I was sitting with a few others discussing an upcoming round of preaching. All of us were part of the series. One person at the table had enjoyed many years of ministry and was now retired. Another, younger, and earlier in her ministry journey, did not often give sermons. I mentioned that I was looking forward to hearing her preach.
In response, the retired minister said, “Oh, I never would call myself a preacher. I don’t like to call it preaching. I like to think of it as just a conversation.”
My comment had not been directed toward him, although I did look forward to his sermon as well. But something in me reacted. I felt the pinch.
You know the one. That internal jolt when someone says something that feels both completely right and slightly off at the same time.
Because there was truth in what he said.
I say that often. I believe that deeply. The pulpit does not belong to me. It is not a platform for my ego, my opinions, nor my need for affirmation. And yet, in his words, I also sensed something else. There was an unintentional but subtle minimizing of the holy invitation that preaching is. It felt a bit like we were diminishing the weight of stepping into that space.
For the younger minister in the room, I felt the tension. I wondered if those words might unintentionally shrink what she was about to do, as if preaching were simply casual dialogue. As if the act itself did not carry sacred responsibility.
And so, I sat with the tension.
Here is the challenge.
The sermon is not the only place the Lord speaks. It is not even the most important part of a worship service. It is part of the worship service.
Sermons can become book reports. They can become soapboxes. They can become carefully crafted performances meant to impress or persuade. Pastors can begin to measure their worth by how people respond. Congregations can begin to expect to be entertained. Battles can be fought in a space where only one person holds the microphone.
There is danger in that.
But there is also something sacred.

The sermon is a space where we hold still in a world that rarely slows down.
It is a space where someone has wrestled with the Word. Where they have listened. Where they have allowed Scripture to confront and shape them. And then, with humility, they stand before the beloved community of God and bear witness.
Preaching is not about showcasing brilliance. It is not about winning arguments. It is not about controlling outcomes.
It is about bearing witness to the living Word of God.
Sermons can whisper hope into weary hearts. They can extend forgiveness. They can call people into repentance. They can name truth when confusion is loud. When done with humility, preaching becomes an act of trust in the Holy Spirit’s work.
So yes, it is not your pulpit.
If you hold it as personal property, something has gone wrong. If you guard it as though no one else could possibly stand there, you have misunderstood it. If you use it to wound others rather than to shepherd those God has placed in your care, it is time to step away.
But here is the other side.
It is the Lord’s pulpit. And that changes everything.
If you step into that space with humility, grace, and dependence, you are offering yourself as a vessel. If you enter it prayerfully, asking that the words of your mouth and the meditation of your heart would be pleasing to God, you are stepping onto holy ground.
Preaching is not casual. It is relational, yes. It should feel accessible and embodied. But it is not merely conversation. It is a proclamation. It is testimony. It is stewardship.
Holding both truths together keeps us balanced. Yes, it is not yours. Yes, it is holy.
When we forget that it is not ours, we drift toward control and ego.
When we forget that it is holy, we drift toward carelessness and triviality.
The tension is good. It keeps us humble. If you are stepping into that space soon, I invite you to pause. Ask yourself what you are carrying. Are you trying to prove something? Are you trying to protect something? Or are you willing to be shaped first, and then speak?
Because the power of preaching has never rested in the personality of the preacher. It rests in the Lord who speaks.
It’s not your pulpit. But it is a holy space. Enter it with reverence.