You may be familiar with the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL). In a nutshell a lectionary is a table of prescribed scripture readings for each Sunday of the year. A more expanded lectionary may have readings for individual days of the year. Lectionaries have been in use throughout the history of the church. In some denominations the use of these readings is mandatory, though in most communions use of a lectionary is an option.
The RCL lists readings for Sundays and Special Days over a three-year period. There is a lesson from the Old Testament, a reading from the Psalms, a portion of one of the Epistles, and a pericope from the Gospels. Churches that employ the RCL can plan worship well in advance, and can easily involve multiple participants in the worship preparation. This facilitates the work of musicians, liturgists, those who work with visual arts and others who labor together in the organization of worship.
When planners use the RCL they do so knowing that other churches and denominations embrace this tool as well. It is not unusual for people to fall into conversation mid-week and find that the worship in their churches mirrored the experience of other congregations as the several Sundays' activity centered around the same lectionary selection. There is a Christian unity in such moments that spreads beyond individual church walls or the bounds of a particular denomination.
Those who utilize the RCL can easily find resource materials that relate to a particular day’s reading. Preachers who make some kind of commitment to following the RCL avoid repeating sermons on their favorite passages over and over again. I have observed that, in my own preaching, if left to my own devices and desires I would probably end up preaching from the Sermon on the Mount about 45 Sundays out of the year. So, as regards the RCL, it would be safe to say that I am a fan.
I say all this in reflection of my attendance in worship the last couple of weeks. I have been worshiping in various locations since my retirement, hoping to experience different takes on worship after having been in a leadership role for so long. In the last two churches I attended, neither congregation followed the lectionary. I wouldn’t say that a church “must” or “ought” to pursue that path, but I can’t help but ask “Why?” Secondary to that query is the question, “How?” What I mean by that is I wonder what the decision-making process might be when each week the preacher begins with a blank sheet of paper. The lectionary user knows what the suggested text will be for next week, and next month, and next year. I would find that blank page intimidating. Those who do not follow the RCL sometimes consider me lazy. That might be a fair point. But, after making a decision on the text, we all begin (or take the next step) from the same place.
Now, there are exceptions. Circumstances may dictate a departure from the lectionary, of course. When the Twin Towers fell, or when the Covid-19 pandemic first hit, some of us took an alternate approach to the sermon in those days. That is part of being a pastor.
But, in the normal course of things, I can’t help but wonder what gets preaching – and worship planning – kick-started. There are seasonal considerations. In liturgical churches the preacher would gravitate to those texts that we traditionally associate with certain seasons. I would be hard-pressed to find a justification for preaching the Parable of the Prodigal Son on Christmas Day. So, if a leader embraces the cycle of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter and Pentecost, that preacher can make some decisions more easily. Congregational circumstances have a voice in the preaching decision. The local church stewardship campaign, a significant congregational anniversary, the school term and the season of graduation might inform the direction a particular Sunday might take. A death in the faith family or a tragic accident might prompt pulpit reflection.
I suppose that sometimes the preacher might desire to scratch a homiletical itch. Gossip, immorality, dissention, political bickering, economic depression and other circumstances might spur the preacher to an address from the pulpit.
I am good with all this. But, in the churches where I have worshipped recently there was none of any of this. I was present on garden-variety Sundays where there were no discernable winds of need blowing around and arbitrary texts were at the center of the worship. “Why?” “How?” I can’t help but wonder.
It would be insensitive of me not to allow for genuine Divine Inspiration. A preacher with a blank page might honestly say, “As I began the preparation process for Sunday’s sermon, I started as I always do, with earnest, fervent prayer. In the course of my praying, I perceived that God was directing me toward this particular text.” The preacher might also contend that the preacher engages in a conscientious discipline of Bible study, and that sermons grow out of that immersion in Holy Writ. How do I argue with that? Such a response clears up “why? And “how?” pretty efficiently.
I hope that in the congregations with which I have worshipped these last weeks that this has been the case. I would love to fall into conversation with the preachers and get their take. But I probably won’t get the chance. So, I’ll be content with my questions.
For now.
The peace of the Lord be with you.

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