Categories: Preaching

If the authority of the preacher is solidly riveted on the book of Sacred Scripture, then the preacher is free to move on to the second most important aspect of preaching—the act of proclamation itself.  In the preacher’s ministry of the Word, this proclamation is the part that the preacher has most control over.  He can control how he responds to the authority of the Word, but he cannot change the Word’s authority.  Likewise, he can control how he presents the Word, but cannot control the response of the hearers.  Therefore, he ought to pay close attention to the portion of preaching that he can directly control—his faithfulness to the word and clarity in expounding it.

Cheung quotes Jay Adams, rejecting his definition of preaching.  The summation of Adams’ quote proves that “there are, then, two kinds of preaching (because of a deeply impressed use of the English word I [Adams] shall use the term ‘preaching’ to cover both evangelistic and pastoral speaking):  evangelistic preaching (heralding, announcing the good news) and pastoral or edificational preaching (teaching).”[1] After defining preaching in terms of pastoral and evangelistic, Adams goes on to make the distinction between preaching and lecturing.  He continues,

[In lecturing] the preacher does a good job of considering the historical-grammatical exegesis of the preaching passage, considers it theologically and rhetorically, and then—simply tells his congregations what it means.  His response, and consequently theirs as well, is to say, ‘Well, now I understand it’…That is not preaching.  True preaching does all of the above, but it also identifies the telos (purpose) of the passage, builds the message around it, and calls on the congregation for a response that is appropriate to it.  It works for change.[2]

This is a commendable distinction, even more so that Adams refrains from simply identifying application with doing something.  Instead the preacher aims at an appropriate response—rather a work and/or belief.

Yet, Cheung’s complaint stems from the categories of lecture and sermon.  For him, “A sermon is merely a lecture with religious intent and content, thus making the former a subset of the latter, and not a different type of speech altogether.  Adams, therefore, merely imposes upon us his private definitions of these terms.”[3] First, in writing, authors are allowed to define their terms.  There is  nothing wrong with this.  Moreover, it could be argued that the Adams holds the majority position in these definitions and Cheung himself is seeking the “private definition of these terms.”  Second, it is plain that there is an inherent difference between a lecture and sermon, even if both are based in the text of Scripture.  Cheung takes a stand that few serious theologians would feel comfortable making.  Furthermore, any theological student can supply the difference between the theological school lecture and the pastor’s sermon.  Though there may be some overlap, the nature of the sermon and lecture have different aims, structures, and methods.

Yet, Cheung continues his diatribe,

Adams implies that [the preacher] hides the behind-the-scenes research from his audience.  The hearers are not privy to his ‘considering the historical-grammatical exegesis of the preaching message,’ as well as the theological and rhetorical issues.  He ‘considers’ the materials but does not present them.  But are not these things beneficial for the believers to learn.[4]

As a reader dependant upon Cheung’s quotations, I do not have access to Adams’ original argument, but I have a hard time believing that Adams would advocate withholding any exegetical study that would be profitable to the audience.  Also, exegesis is mainly seen by the people in the preacher’s approach to and handling of the text, not necessarily as a Sunday morning data dump.  The bread and the butter of the exegesis that Cheung mentions explicitly gives way in the sermon to homiletical outlines, illustrations, and applications.  A sermon does not neglect this historical survey of material, but any inclusion of this material is only included to focus the text more readily on the audience’s lives.  “Such content is never excluded as a rule, but only due to necessary constraints.”[5] Adams, I think, would agree.

Cheung’s aim turns toward reshaping the sermon.  “A lecture is not limited to presenting facts, but also arguments and exhortations.  This is often done even in secular classrooms.”[6] It seems that without being his intention, Cheung is willing to lose the sacredness of the sermon with his zeal of identifying it a lecture.  A secular classroom lecture is not a sermon, but he makes it out to be one.  Regardless if the lecturer argues and exhorts, this event is not preaching.  Cheung’s argument falls flat when two words are brought into focus:  Christian preaching.  Christian preaching and secular lecturing have this and only this in common:  a man speaks and a people listen.  Where in the realm of secular lecturing is there the proclamation of God’s Word about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit to a people who are called to heed this word or perish?

Seemingly oblivious to this, Cheung continues with his redefining of the sermon, “The sermon ought to be more academic than it is commonly conceived.”[7] Depending on which context the preacher is in, this could be true.  What is surprising at this point is Cheung’s background.  Coming from a Reformed perspective (which is how I believe that Cheung would identify himself), lack of academia is not an issue.  If anything, Reformed sermons are characterized as too academic, more concerned with the head than the heart.  Yet, we can admit that the majority of sermons in most of American Christendom do suffer from shallowness today.  But, there is no need to blend the definitions of lectures and sermons in order to make this point or call for change.

Not only does Cheung desire to make the sermon more like a secular lecture, Cheung’s advice for making sermons more academic comes from the pages of a secular book on literature.  “Preachers should apply to their sermons Mortimer Adler’s recommendation concerning the lecture:  ‘Always risk talking over their heads.’”[8] I could not disagree with this statement more.  Mortimer Adler’s How to Read a Book is a great book.  Everyone should read it.  His point is that we ought to read books that are over our heads because those push us to go deeper intellectually.  He has nothing to say about preaching.  And, just as lectures are not the same as preaching the gospel, so it is that books are not preaching.

Our goal in preaching is to always be understandable first and foremost.  That was Paul’s goal.  In fact, when asking others to pray for his ministry, this is one of the main things he requested.  “At the same time, pray also for us, that God may open to us a door for the word, to declare the mystery of Christ, on account of which I am in prison— ⁴that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak.”[9] He did not ask that others pray for him, that he might risk talking over their heads—or to increase his hearers’ intellectual wherewithal.  He prayed for clarity.  It was how he ought to speak—how he ought to aim to speak.  It is the same for everyone that preaches God’s Word.

In lectures and academic commentaries, while doing biblical exegesis, much of our time is spent in parsing, arcing, diagramming, debating theological arguments, and textual criticism.  These lectures and commentaries have a tendency to drift toward liberalism, and be dry because they can be divorced from the needs of an actual people.  We would not help our congregation by saying that this should be the aim of our sermons—to push them intellectually.  Yes, we should push them, but never do we want to talk over their heads.  We ought to rather be thought of as simpletons and be understood, rather than risk being thought of as geniuses and yet be misunderstood.  The reason being is that salvation is on the line.  For the sake of our intellectual pride, should we risk talking over the heads of those who are missing out on salvation because they do not understand us?  I would think not.

It seems that Cheung’s aim to remake the sermon in his own image and desires does not stop with lecture-like academia.  Next, he targets the perspicuity of Scripture.   “Preachers are told to focus on application of biblical truths, but the trouble is that both they and their congregations know too little of the Bible for there to be anything to apply.”[10] Who is he talking about?  Without a specific audience mentioned, the reader is left wondering if Cheung means all pastors and Christians everywhere.  This is yet another unfortunate exaggeration.  Statements like this imply that the Bible is hard to understand and only the educated are able to understand the text.  Even more, those that devote their lives to the study of understanding Scripture—preachers themselves—do not understand the Bible.

Cheung extols literary works for their difficulty in being understood and unintelligible loftiness.  For example, he writes, “Alice in Wonderland is so difficult to understand that it requires the extensive notes of The Annotated Alice by Martin Gardner to expose the numerous mathematical, philosophical, political, and other types of references spread throughout the story.”[11] We need to speak of layers of understanding at this point.  We can get a basic understanding, and even an accurate appreciation, of the novel apart from extensive notes.  But, it is true that our understanding and appreciation can deepen by being exposed to the author’s intentions and motives more deeply.  It is telling that though we write commentaries on the text of Scripture, no commentary is infallible or indispensible.  Only the Bible itself is.  We are not called to look into a commentary to find the meaning of Scripture.  Although a commentary may deepen our understanding of the text, the main theme of redemption in the cross of Jesus Christ is understandable to any with the Spirit.

He presses, “To facilitate understanding and faith, one should minimize the use of stories, and explain in plain speech any narratives on which he has chosen to preach.”[12] So, whereas earlier the preacher should risk talking over the hearer’s head, now he should not talk in stories so that faith and understanding might increase.  What’s odd about Cheung’s bias here, is that it goes against God’s own method in the Bible.  He didn’t minimize the use of stories.  Great portions of the text of Scripture are narrative.  Moreover, God does not feel the need to explain every line of that narrative.  It seems that God would not see stories as detrimental to understanding and faith.

In all of these critiques, the writer can see Cheung’s methodological view of preaching bubble to the top.  He is arguing for an intellectual event in preaching, one that will stretch the listener academically.  What he is instilling is a removal of the commonality that should exist between preacher and congregation.  Moreover, it is a removal of naturalness.  Even in the delivery of the sermon, Cheung seeks to create adverse barriers in communication.

The real debate is whether the entire sermon should be written out and read to the audience during delivery.  Karl Barth insists that this must be done; he gives his reasons:

The basic prerequisite in execution is to write the sermon…a sermon is a speech which we have prepared word for word and written down. This alone accords with its dignity. If it is true in general that we must give an account of every idle word, we must do so especially in our preaching.  For preaching is not an art that some can master because they are good speakers and others only by working out the sermon in writing. The sermon is a liturgical event…they can engage in this ministry only after full reflection, to the very best of their knowledge, and with a clear conscience. Each sermon should be ready for print, as it were, before it is delivered.

This demand is an absolute rule for all. We may rob it of its universal validity by applying it only to young preachers until they have had the necessary practice. There is great danger in this type of thinking.[13]

A careful reading of this portion of quoted text shows that Barth does not mention reading the manuscript to the audience, only writing one out.  Cheung is right that this is where the debate is centered—the actual reading of the manuscript.  But, he is wrong on how he handles Barth’s quote.  It is a different thing altogether between writing out a sermon and reading that sermon aloud in front of the congregation.  It is possible for preachers to write out a complete sermon and still preach extemporaneously from this manuscript as if it were an outline.

Seeking to find a stalwart example of his method of preaching, he turns to Jonathan Edwards.

Jonathan Edwards wrote out his sermons and read from his manuscripts during delivery.  Eyewitness accounts indicate that at times he would hardly look up from his notes, and yet he was one of the greatest revivalists. This is the way he delivered his famous Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, and his hearers were more than a little affected, some cried out so loudly that at one point he had to pause and ask them to quiet down, so that he may finish reading from his manuscript.[14]

Before we move on to address the usefulness of reading sermons, it would be helpful to wonder at the use of Edwards as an example.  It should be noted that “Jonathan Edwards, late in life, regretted the practice [of reading sermons], and believed that it was better to preach memoriter for the most part, sometimes extemporizing.”[15] Most often, preachers who read their sermons see it as a handicap.  Yet, if we are to advocate for the reading of our sermons, we ought to advocate also for a holy life like Edwards lived that gripped its hearers as well as the sermon.  Therein lies the power of a Edwards’ read sermon.

Regardless, Cheung will not be moved by arguments over whether it is prudent to read a sermon or not.  He writes, “Pragmatic arguments are almost worthless.”[16] Yet, Pragmatic arguments cannot be entirely worthless.  He is making a pragmatic argument in order substantiate reading sermons anyways.  There is no biblical warrant for it.  To be honest pragmatically, a poorly read sermon has a devastating affect on the preaching event.  It is as difficult to experience as nervousness, forgetfulness, or other awkwardness.  It draws way to much attention to the speaker, as opposed to God and the Word.  It is possible to preach, not read, from a full manuscript and never have the congregation know that there is a full manuscript in the pulpit.  Written out sermons have a great benefit.  Every preacher should do it.  But, to carry that into the pulpit is the rub.  Each preacher out to know his boundaries, gifts, and flaws and not force those inadequacies on others.

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[1]Cheung, 51.

[2]Ibid., 52.

[3]Ibid.

[4]Cheung, 52.

[5]Ibid.

[6]Ibid., 54.

[7]Cheung, 54.

[8]Ibid.

[9]Col. 4.3-4 ESV.

[10]Cheung, 56.

[11]Ibid., 63.

[12]Ibid., 65.

[13]Cheung, 70.

[14]Cheung, 71.

[15]John Broadus, A Treatise on the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons [book on-line]; available from http://books.google. com/books?id=9AkTAAAAYAAJ; Internet, p. 438.

[16]Cheung, 71.

Cheung begins his discourse with a lengthy explanation of his interpretation of 2 Timothy 3.14-17:

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it ¹⁵and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. ¹⁶All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, ¹⁷that the man of God may be competent, equipped for every good work.[1]

Aiming to establish the foundation for preaching in the first half of the book from this passage, he writes, “Scripture does not contain mere human opinion or even the human interpretation of divine revelation.”[2] What would be the point of gathering to hear from God if the people only hear from men?  Yet, Cheung probably goes too far here in saying that Scripture does not contain human opinion or interpretation.  There are two reasons to argue this.

The first is 1 Corinthians 7.25, “Now concerning the betrothed, I have no command from the Lord, but I give my judgment as one who by the Lord’s mercy is trustworthy.”[3] Any statement as bold as saying that Scripture is devoid of “even the human interpretation of divine revelation” must deal directly with this verse.  Paul admits that he has no divine revelation that addresses this specific issue.  But, he has an interpretation that applies to the subject.  It is an apostolic opinion that carries with it the authority of Divine mandate.

Second, there is the sense that the human author does interpret the divine revelation given to him.  Each author is different in personality, education, and writing style.  Though each writer is given the same divine realm of dogma, the individual writings reflect different nuances of understanding and emphasis.  God has taken great providential pains to see that every jot and tittle of Scripture is his infallible and inerrant word while every letter, word, phrase, sentence, paragraph, and book has the distinct mark of the human author.  The divine message comes through a human mind that interprets the message.  For instance, there is no debate about the stylistic difference in the four gospels.  Yet, they all have a common pool of material in the life, teaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Cheung’s desire that all Scripture be on the same plane, regardless of author still seems valid.  This is commendable when he writes, “There is no reason to regard one part of the Bible as more authoritative than another, or to regard one inspired person speaking in Scripture as more inspired by another.”[4] Such an understanding of Scriptures helps the church move from a red-letter version of Bible inspiration—or placing too much emphasis on the exact words of God spoken in the discourse portions of the Word.

Cheung continues, “There is no difference in the reliability and authority between the various biblical books and their writers.”[5] There are degrees of progressive revelation and clarity of truth.  Paul knew more about God than Abraham did.  But, the parts of revelation that reveal Abraham’s knowledge of God are no less a revelation of truth than the later revelation of Jesus Christ.  The revelation just might not be as full.

Drawing out this point, Cheung writes, “A tendency to think of the words of Jesus in the Bible as superior to the rest of the Bible…amounts to a denial of biblical inspiration”[6] Cheung is wrong in saying that this is a denial of biblical inspiration.  Holding to Christ’s words as superior is merely misguided.  Most likely, the person believing this point would back away from such strong emphasis on the exact words if pressed.  It is understandable how a young Christian might think this.  We do read that “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, ²but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.”[7] We must also acknowledge that Jesus wrote no words of which we are aware.

That reality leaves an interesting correlation between Jesus as the last spoken Word of God and the Bible as the record of the spoken word in Jesus.  We are dependant upon the New Testament writers to give to us not just the words of Jesus, but Jesus himself.  The only way that we meet Jesus, or hear his words, or see his actions, is through the written account of other writers.  Perhaps Jesus refrained from writing because of our propensity toward the gradation of sacredness.  Would the other writings have been valued as highly as a gospel written by the hand of a risen Jesus Christ?

Therefore, we must see that all the Bible should be interpreted in this vein of God’s revelation of Jesus Christ.  The Old Testament points to him.  The Gospels, Acts, and Revelation show him.  The rest of the New Testament is application of the repercussions of Christ’s being, teaching, life, death, and resurrection on history, our lives, and the universe.  So, it is not a new word that Paul and the writers give us.  They give us implications of the Word spoken; but, as with all Scripture, the authority rests as heavily as every other part of sacred Scripture.

Does this mean that there is no difference in the human author, if all Scripture is the same in its goal and revelation?  So, Cheung would say.  “An exposition of our text does not strictly require us to mention the human writers at all.”[8] This is an unfortunate overstatement.  Every text of Scripture, especially the epistles’ text, is written to a specific people, by a specific author, at a specific time with its own specific conditions.  These writers have a unique place in redemptive history, speaking to a body, the church.  The broader implications that we are able to timelessly apply to our generation speak as much to the divinity of God and the commonality of the human condition in the writing process.  Knowing the circumstances of the author, such as the imprisonment of Paul, deepens our understanding of the text.  Therefore, to truly understand and explain the text, we must deal with the author and the audience.  Only after we have correctly understood the author’s intention and audience’s reciprocation are we able to proper transition from interpretation to application.

Moving from our view of the authority of Scripture to our interpretation of Scripture, Cheung focuses on 2 Peter 1.20-21, “For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.”[9] He writes, “Much damage has come from the American way of thinking, that every person is entitled to his opinion, and that every person has a right to contribute to a discussion, even in the church.”[10] It’s true that many opinionated people can make things very difficult in terms of authority.  The American culture is not strong on authoritative positions, tending to prefer individualistic freedoms.  Nevertheless, as Cheung has makes the case that 2 Peter 1.20-21 addresses this notion of his, we must focus there.

Peter is preoccupied in this text with hinting at how revelation comes to pass.  This text is silent on the issue of the audience interpreting Scripture, in fact it can be argued that entire Bible is silent on Cheung’s denunciation of personal opinion..  That we call men to believe is a verification that men stand or fall based upon their opinions.  What they believe—their opinion of spiritual matters—is of eternal significance.  Given that Paul reasons with non-believers, and Jesus does not call down fire upon all those who reject him right away, seems to imply that we are entitled to our opinions for better or for worse.  We can not avoid having them on everything imaginable for that matter.  Moreover, the very manner in which the history of redemption plays out revolves around others contributing to relationship between God and man.  The Bible is not a verbatim dictation of God’s words to us (although there are instances of this), but (mainly) the discussion men have with the truth that he has declared.  Christ allowed others to interrupt his teachings with questions.  In fact, Cheung is revealing very early on that he is constructing a very precarious seat of authority in which no one ought to sit.  This is an issue that will be revisited when we consider preaching to non-Christians.  At this point, it is safe to see that he is suspicious of the opinions of others.

If the text in 2 Peter is not dealing with the private interpretation by the audience, with what is it dealing?  It has to do with the mode of transmission of revelation from God through the human writer.  Cheung argues, “Nothing in Scripture came from man’s personal decision or understanding” (14).  It is difficult to determine what the author means here.  Yet, what little that can be gathered is startling enough.  It may be well and good to say that no Scripture “came from man’s personal decision” to write Scripture.  It would seem that this unction comes from God himself.  Yet, what about the numerous accounts of people’s action in Scripture?  Are they not personal decisions found in Scripture?  Moreover, to deny understanding on the part of the author seems both difficult and deadly.

Cheung’s stance could easily be construed that the writers did not understand what they were writing.  There does exist the rare exception when it is true that the writers did not understand the truth of which they spoke.  One example can be found in Dan 12.8-9, “I heard, but I did not understand. Then I said, ‘O my lord, what shall be the outcome of these things?’ ⁹He said, ‘Go your way, Daniel, for the words are shut up and sealed until the time of the end.’”[11] Yet, the reader ought to notice that Daniel is taken aback by this circumstance.  He seems confused by the fact that he does not understand what he is writing.  This should be seen as an exception, not a rule.  The reality of this situation is explained by 1 Peter 1.10-11, “Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, ¹¹inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories.”[12] Here, Peter highlights what the nature of the lack of understanding is—Christ.

Is this not what Christ himself had to do when he opened the minds of his disciples to the Scriptures?  “Beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.”[13] Why did he have to do this if not for the fact that he himself was and is the key to understanding the Scriptures.  It is, also, not as though the Lord has guarded understanding and opinion from his people.    Therefore, Paul could confidently say of his writings to Timothy, “Think over what I say, for the Lord will give you understanding in everything.”[14] Paul had an understanding that was captured in a text and transmittable to Timothy as he thought over it.

As hinted at before, the Scriptural evidence of personality differences in the texts of Scripture would seem to imply that God does not override the understanding of the authors, but works with and through their understanding, intellect, culture, and personality.  How can anyone read the Gospel of John and the Gospel of Mark and not see a remarkable personality difference?  Yet, Cheung declares that “the words of Scripture came from God, and not from the men themselves.”[15] There’s a difference between not having its origin in man and man having no part in the process.  These men are moved by the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is not overriding the writer.  Cheung does not explain his position adequately; though he says, “It was God who spoke, not men—he spoke through men.”[16] The men did speak.  And God did speak through them.  The tension that Cheung is seeking to create does not have to exist.

Yet, he continues, “They were passive and the Spirit was active.”[17] This raises a staggering question for him.  How does a man passively speak or write?  He tries to argues that “they were the passive objects carried entirely by the power of the Spirit, and this was their role and their involvement.”[18] Stripping any activity from man in the writing of Scripture, Cheung goes to a realm of inspiration that most evangelical theologians refuse to go.  This writer is not aware of any orthodox theologian holding to Cheung’s view.

Cheung tries to argue by using an illustration, but loses his argument in the midst of it.

Some commentators insist that the words ‘men spoke’ grant an active role to the prophets, but in what sense were they active?  If I were to take up a pen to write a letter, of course the ‘pen writes,’ but its role is active only relative to itself and relative to when it is not writing at all.  Relative to me, the pen is entirely passive, and cannot even be described as actively cooperating.  For those who always seem to misconstrue analogies, I am not saying that a man is exactly like a pen, but I am saying that we cannot infer too much from the words ‘men spoke’ themselves, but the sense and the extent of these words are restricted by the context.[19]

He tries to play a philosophical high ground by arguing that if one disagrees with this analogy, he “misconstrues analogies.”  This is unfortunate.  He seems to fade into ambiguity when he writes that we cannot “infer too much…but the sense [is] restricted by the context.”[20] We cannot infer too much; we can infer the simple meaning.  When it says that men spoke, we can rightly understand that they spoke.  It is counter-intuitive to say that speaking is not speaking.  When men have something to say, they are actively transmitting through words.  The Spirit simply moved them to speak, giving them the message and ability to communicate it in an inerrant and infallible form.

By saying that “even their speaking was performed under this passive condition,”[21] the writer is arguing for a dictation theory of revelation.  The writer seems to be so engrossed in arguing against any freedom of will that he is willing to fight theological battles against others who affirm both radical depravity and verbal inspiration.  For example, Michael Green does not have to be moved by a “theological bias” (which I infer that the author means Arminianism) to write, “For revelation was not a matter of passive reception:  it meant active co-operation.”[22] We are discussing redeemed, regenerate believers that are indwelled with the Spirit, who is the author of Scripture.  Is a believer not capable of doing any good work by the Spirit, like co-authoring a biblical text?  The majority Reformed position is that he can and did.

I agree with Green when he writes, “The fact of God’s inspiration did not mean a supersession of the normal mental functionings of the author.”[23] Commenting on Green’s statement, Cheung writes, “He wants to prevent the misunderstanding that the human writers were unconscious, unthinking, unaware, or in a trance when they spoke and wrote from God.”[24] Not only does Green seek to prevent this misunderstanding, but the predominant evangelical position does as well.  Nevertheless Cheung continues his rebuttal, “And God’s control over man is so exhaustive that he does not need to suspend the person’s thinking and personality in order to speak through him exactly what he wills, since even the person’s thinking and personality are under his direct and continuous control.”[25] Cheung’s position raises a host of needless difficulties by saying “direct and continuous control.”  It presents God as not only capable to keep a man from sin (in the case of Abimelech from Genesis 20.6), but continuously controlling the thoughts of men in the furnace of their lust.  It misses the truth that God turns men over to a debased mind,[26] and that a redeemed person can think the very thoughts of God after him.[27]

Cheung quotes Vos correctly when he says that “the revelation does not spring from the character; on the contrary, the character is predetermined by the necessities of the revelation.”[28] But, what Cheung misses is how God’s predetermining of the personality fits his purpose.  God has in mind every letter, word, sentence, and paragraph of the Epistle to James from all eternity.  He predestines and brings about the writer, James, in such a way that he is born at just the right time, is raised by just the right parents, gets just the right education, befriends just the right friends, speaks with just the write nuance, thinks in just the write manner, etc., that as moved by the Holy Spirit to write, he writes the exact letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs that infallibly and inerrantly convey God’s words, intention, meaning, and message.  This reserves both the absolute sovereignty of God, authority of the Word, and dignity of man made in his image and redeemed by Christ.

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[1]The Holy Bible : English Standard Version, (Wheaton: Standard Bible Society, 2001).

[2]Vincent Cheung, The Ministry of the Word [book on-line]; available from http://www. vincentcheung.com/books/ministryword.pdf; Internet, p. 7.

[3]1 Co. 7.25 ESV.

[4]Cheung, 10.

[5]Ibid.

[6]Ibid., 11.

[7]Heb. 1.1-2 ESV.

[8]Cheung, 12.

[9]ESV.

[10]Cheung, 13-14.

[11]ESV.

[12]Ibid.

[13]Luke 24.27 ESV.

[14]2 Tim. 2.7 ESV.

[15]Cheung, 15.

[16]Ibid.

[17]Ibid., 16.

[18]Ibid., 17.

[19]Cheung, 17.

[20]Ibid.

[21]Ibid.

[22]Ibid.

[23]Cheung, 17.

[24]Ibid., 18.

[25]Ibid.

[26]“And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done” (Romans 1.28 ESV).

[27]2 Tim. 2.7; 1 Co. 2.16.

[28]Cheung, 22.

The ministry of the Word is one of the greatest duties and delights in the history of redemption.  It is one of God greatest works.  It is one of, if not the, chief callings of man.  In fact, God so highly exalts preaching that he made his one and only son a preacher.  To be called to and labor in this endeavor is a high and holy calling.  Therefore, we ought to seriously consider the expectations of the one who has called us to labor in preaching to the world.  In Vincent Cheung’s book, The Ministry of the Word, he labors to communicate these expectations on three fronts.  He focuses on God and his authority in the Bible, the preacher and the act of preaching, and the audience and their participation.