Recently, a pastor I genuinely respect sought my opinion on whether there were any aspects of his preaching that needed improvement. It took significant humility to ask for such feedback. I appreciate his preaching; he’s a talented communicator of God’s Word, and more importantly, my wife enjoys his messages too.

This situation reminds me of a time in my thirties when I was experiencing significant success as a pastor. I asked my wife who her favorite preacher was, and she replied, “Andy.” For a moment, I felt a bit hurt, but then I realized that Andy was one of my favorites, too. Sadly, Andy is no longer in ministry; his story is one of brokenness and decline, and we have since lost touch. This experience has taught me that talent does not guarantee faithfulness.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the effectiveness of preaching. It often falls short of the impact we preachers envision. My father, also a preacher, shared an analogy with me early in my ministry that has stayed with me. He quoted Hebrews 5:13: “Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness.” He explained that, regardless of how profound a sermon might be, it is ultimately still milk. He likened it to how milk is produced—it starts as grass, which a cow ingests, digests, and processes to create a simpler food for calves. Eventually, these calves must learn to eat solid food independently.

Similarly, a pastor engages deeply with the Word of God, processes its teachings through their spiritual journey, and presents it in an accessible way so everyone can receive spiritual nourishment on Sundays. The hope is that congregants will use the sermon as a supplement and develop their ability to feed themselves spiritually.

While this may be a simplistic analogy, I find it insightful. In considering the components of a quality sermon, I believe it should embody three key elements: Good, Beautiful, and True.

Good: I want to feel assured that the preacher has genuinely engaged with the text. They’ve wrestled with its meaning, studied its ancient languages, and understood the context. I want to know they’ve questioned, probed, and debated the text. What challenges did they encounter? Where did it disturb or cause tension for them?

Beautiful: I desire an emotional connection when I listen to the sermon. I want to laugh, cry, and be moved—not manipulated—but truly touched. This emotional depth can come through storytelling, engaging prose, poetry, or vivid analogies. I want to feel the essence of the story.

True: Does the sermon withstand scrutiny? How can I apply its teachings to become a better person? Does it provoke thoughtful reflection? I want to walk away thinking, “I never considered that before,” or “That’s an intriguing way to articulate a truth I already understood.” After hearing the sermon, I hope to think, “What a fascinating idea!”

There are great books about preaching. My favorites include:

Biblical Preaching by Haddon Robinson.

Preaching by Fred Craddock

The Homiletical Plot by Eugene Lowery

Integrative Preaching by Kenton Anderson

These are my favorite preachers who embody what I have tried to describe:

Chuck Swindoll

Timothy Keller

Joel Gregory

Barbara Brown Taylor

Andy

Reflecting on my preacher friend who asked for feedback, I find humility to be my favorite trait in a preacher. When a preacher approaches God’s Word with humility and a mindset of “I may be wrong,” it enhances the listening experience.

One last thing: one of my first deacons told me on my second Sunday, when I was twenty-six years old, “Pastor Joe, there’s no such thing as a bad short sermon.”

So, does the sermon resonate as Good, Beautiful, and True? If so, it will provide rich spiritual sustenance until I can delve into the Bible for myself.