I once gave a terrible sermon. Once? you ask. Ok, maybe a few times, but there was one sermon that was so awful that I realized as I was speaking that I must have lost my mind to even continue. I would have been better off had I just stopped. I could have said, “Dear Friends, I’m sure no one sitting here would object to cutting these words short. If I know how bad this is, you know; as a matter of fact, you probably think it’s worse than I do.” But I didn’t. I went on. Funny thing, though. I got some positive comments about that sermon which made me wonder about the mental health of the people who actually liked it. Trust me, it was bad.
On the other hand, I know when a sermon is good. And the best ones I’ve delivered were for our kids on the High Holydays. As a matter of fact, my secretary told me in no uncertain terms (you’ll soon see that she wasn’t a wallflower) to take one of my Rosh Hashanah youth sermons and deliver it to the adults. I did so ten days later for Yom Kippur. She was right. I mean I knew my message came across to the younger audience, but I found out that my secretary was a phenomenal barometer of what her contemporaries would find meaningful.
By the way, this woman was an amazing person…and she had chutzpah! While delivering my Bicentennial sermon in 1976 I said to myself while reading one paragraph, “Whoa, these are not my words. I actually said the exact OPPOSITE). So that Monday I said, “Edie, am I nuts, or did you change my sermon?” She replied, “Well, you’re not nuts. I did change one paragraph.”
So inquiring minds want to know…” Why?” Without missing a beat, Edie said, “I didn’t like what you said.” I began stuttering, sputtering and … “You didn’t like what I said????” “Not at all, and I don’t think you meant a word of it.” Scouts honor, it’s now 44 years since that conversation. All I remember is how she totally disarmed me. No way would I have fired her, but I cannot recall what I had written nor how she edited it. The point is sometimes you have to say something when in your heart of hearts you know something is wrong. Oh, and that never happened again because I did say to her, “Edie, next time before you decide what I believe and what I don’t believe, what I like and what I don’t like, ASK me first. We can discuss it.”
(Speaking of rabbis, Paul and Natalie have invited their elderly rabbi for dinner. While they’re in the kitchen preparing the meal, the rabbi is in the dining room with their five-year-old daughter. “So, tell me, Emma,” asks the rabbi, “do you know what we’re having for dinner tonight?” Emma says, “Goat.” The rabbi looks perplexed. “Goat? Are you sure about that Emma?” “Oh yes, Rabbi,” replies Emma. “I heard Daddy say to Mommy, ‘Today is as good as any to have the old goat for dinner.”)