Ministers Jammin’

I envy musicians. Since I can’t sing, play an instrument, or read music, there’s a lot to envy, but I want to focus on one thing.

It’s how a musician can easily know about other musicians’ work. They can buy each other’s records or CDs and listen to them over and over again and they can go to each other’s concerts and performances. A favorite image of mine is of a jazz musician finishing his set at the Condor Club at midnight and going over to the Hot Spot to catch another musician playing until 3:00 AM. They might even jam together. They can be inspired by each other, learn from each other, borrow from each other (never steal), support each other. They can be a community of artists. Okay, they can also be a band of cutthroat competitors, but that’s a story for another time.

The closest I ever came to experiencing that kind of sharing was when as a storyteller, I would perform with other storytellers at festivals. Like most storytellers, I was a solo act, working at schools or churches or business functions. At various storytelling festivals throughout the year, we would come together and tell our stories, often for days, sharing, learning, inspiring, borrowing, supporting. A community of artists.

I missed that sorely when I was a spiritual leader. It’s hard to hear another artist when everybody is jamming at the same time–Sunday mornings. I belonged to a group of supportive minister buds at the time, and we would sometimes talk about our sermons, but it wasn’t the same thing. It’s the difference between describing lightning and seeing it.

Here’s an idea that can approximate musicians jamming. With a small group of adventurous minister friends, have everyone create a sermon on the same topic. Choose a date a month or so in advance for the completion date. Then agree on a topic-–Scripture verse, theme, whatever. Assign a time limit. On the agreed-on date, get together and everyone delivers his or her sermon to the others. Allowing time for discussion, each person might take 30 minutes. It can be an incredible learning experience. Fun, too.

It’s like singers or musicians sharing their versions of the same song. Imagine listening to three different versions of “Stardust” or “Georgia On My Mind,” and really paying attention to differences in tempo, pausing, style. Now imagine listening to different sermons on the quotation “Jesus wept,” or on forgiveness.

And imagine that you perform your version, too. The others, of course, influence your version, and you influence theirs. Borrow a quotation, an opening or a line of poetry (don’t borrow personal stories, no matter how good–use your own). Then you each give your talk to your congregation and compare notes later about how they went.

Sure, you don’t get the romantic image of being hunched over a whiskey at a small table in a dark noisy joint, listening to someone wail on a saxophone. But you don’t stay up until 3 AM anymore, and you don’t like the taste of whiskey.

But what you do get is the big payoff—participating in a community of artists who share in and support each other’s work.