Preaching: common property of the church: the baptism of our Lord--the transfiguration of our Lord, series C.

One of the issues that some pastors and congregations seem to be struggling with these days is plagiarism in preaching. In the last few months, I've been called for advice when someone found something in a sermon that came from the Internet of originated with another preacher and went unacknowledged in the preaching. The bishop was notified and the pastor accused of plagiarism. I wondered what else was going on in that ministry.

While it is certainly unethical to claim as original work anything that originated with someone else, how much of preaching is truly original work? Scripture does not originate with us. Even interpreting Scripture is not original work. It happens in conversation with the writers of creeds, confessions, and commentaries. As Lutheran preachers, one of the promises we make at ordination is not to be overly original in our preaching; we promise to preach and teach in accordance with Holy Scripture and the creeds and Lutheran confessions. We make this promise because the gospel certainly does not originate with us. When it comes to preaching, the most we might claim is that, on occasion, we put things together in a truly original way. And on those Sundays when we don't, weighing down sermons with quotations and citations can clutter the proclamation of the gospel. Unlike published books and articles, the gospel preached is not the private possession of any individual. The gospel preached is the property of the gathered assembly and, in fact, the church and the world. As preachers, we all build upon one another. We all borrow from each other as we seek to fulfill our shared calling of making Christ known.

In this spirit of partnership in preaching, I am delighted to acknowledge that, though these reflections for the Epiphany Season bear my name, they are not entirely my original work. My stewardship of Preaching Helps got off to a slow start this spring when I set some things aside in order to participate in my dad's illness and death. When I hadn't enlisted contributors for this issue, I turned to my own exegetical notes and reflections, compiled over many years and surely borrowed from many fine preachers, pastors, scholars, and perhaps even from Preaching Helps. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, I lost track of the footnotes.

I would like to footnote for a moment one group of these partners. When I began ordained ministry as an assistant pastor in Fairport, New York, I was invited to be part of a pastors' group that met monthly to study the pericopes for the next month's preaching. Everyone took the task very seriously. We prepared exegetical papers and pastoral reflections. Those more gifted than I undertook their own translation. The questions and insights that came from a colleague struggling with a text were the most rewarding part of our time together. These colleagues taught me some things that now seem so obvious: preachers approach Scripture in a particular way, preachers bring their people with them to the text, and the best gift preachers can offer one another are the questions and perspectives of those that one preacher brings to a text and another preacher leaves behind.

I have been away from that table for many years now. I'm told that, though the participants have changed, the group still gathers. Best of all, it is but one of many such groups throughout the church that gather weekly or monthly to collaborate in preparation for preaching. Sharing the common property of the church in this way speaks a truth about preaching in these Sundays after the Epiphany. During this season when Christ is made known to the nations, in part through our words, a key to preaching is to be in partnership with those who can make Christ known to us.

Perhaps the most original work I can offer is the question that concerns me as I prepare to preach during this Epiphany season. How is Christ being made known to the nations? Writing these reflections early in the morning of September 11, I wonder if we who claim Christ can trust enough to turn to God in moments of terror, or if we are so scared that we will spend our lives attempting to save ourselves through increased security? How does our response make Christ known? When the ELCA's draft statement on human sexuality arrived on my desk last evening, I found myself afraid that how Christ would be made known will be colored by a church so divided that it cannot overcome its differences. As we look around our world and see the supposed boundary between religion and politics continue to blur, I hope and pray that God's glory made known as Christ made a home with us on the cross is not confused with awesome military might that, to many, is taking away their place of home. As every expression of the church struggles with financial uncertainty, I wonder how Christ will be made known in the way we take next steps. Mostly, I struggle with how Christ is made known as we preach, and how Christ is made known when the way we live is laid alongside what we preach. As I reflect on our task, issues of originality seem a bit silly as I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I am not in this work alone, but can both turn to partners who make Christ known to me, and draw from and rely upon the common property of the church.

Craig A. Satterlee, Editor of Preaching Helps

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