“We are like preachers in a windstorm,” Long suggested, as he characterized our era: hemorrhaging membership in our congregations, institutional structures under stress, clergy demoralized.  In just such uncomfortable times, Long invited his listeners to speak in a variety of tongues: the languages of disruption, of wisdom, of enchantment, of embodiment, and of hopeful lament.  “God is tearing us down in order to build something new,” he emphasized with positive tone.

Like Augustine of Hippo, twenty-first century preachers do well to acquire and speak in multiple languages in the pulpit, Long encouraged.  A congregation is made up of multiple constituencies gathered in a single room: differing ages, genders, educational levels.  Try different modes of preaching even as you recall various moods of the gospel.  Against resistance to the ultimate disenchantment of our world, find and celebrate those places in life that spill over the top, that overflow.

What do listeners need to know as your sermon unfolds? Long asked.  Listeners need to know what the message is about; this clarification becomes a passive promise—something to listen for, as well as listen to.  They need to follow the logic of the sermon, to be able to follow the flow; transitions need to be like hinges. Listeners need illustrations: analogies, metaphors, stories. They need a sense of ending related to the sermon’s function: cognitive, affective, behavioral. They need variety for the sake of the whole people of God.