In order to get a sermon out of scripture I beg and bully the words on air thin pages to “move over” and let me in. Each week I manipulate artificially and in vain.
But somewhere in my bullying, I am splashed in the face and I realize scripture is not words on a page but a divine and vital flow.
When I am embarrassed by the surprising splash ( you would think I would learn), I consider splashing back.
But the scripture babbles to me so that I no longer listen to my own offended voice.
Rather than jump in and make a large splash, the flow seems to call for the dip of a toe in a particular and chosen spot.
The toe, so connected to the brain, causes it and me to wonder and appreciate the feel of the flow.
Loving the respect, the living word encourages a deeper dip….to all that digests at the waist, to all the bears weight at the shoulder…until the mind, too, is in the flow.
The words on the page never needed to be bullied. Still I was right. There is no sermon until I am allowed in.
Leslie's Theology 