An analysis of Heresy of Application An interview with Haddon Robinson

Leadership assistant editor Ed Rowell was talking on the phone with Haddon Robinson
recently when Haddon made the offhand comment, "More heresy is preached in application
than in Bible exegesis." The phrase stuck in our minds. We editors had several, animated
conversations about it, standing around the black file cabinets in the hall outside our
offices.
We finally decided to visit Haddon in his office at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary,
near Boston, and press him on the implications of what he'd said.
There, amid at least three containers of jellybeans, numerous diplomas, and an academic
gown still in plastic from the dry cleaners, we found the Harold John Ockenga
Distinguished Professor of Preaching. Haddon authored Biblical Preaching, a text used in
120 seminaries and Bible colleges. He teaches on the daily program "Radio Bible Class"
and, in a 1996 poll conducted by Baylor University, was named one of the twelve most
effective preachers in the English-speaking world. Our conversation became a rich,
Socratic dialogue on the delicate art of applying ancient truth to modern people.
You've said that more heresy is preached in application than in Bible exegesis. Why?
Haddon Robinson: Preachers want to be faithful to the Scriptures, and going through
seminary, they have learned exegesis. But they may not have learned how to make the
journey from the biblical text to the modern world. They get out of seminary and realize the
preacher's question is application: How do you take this text and determine what it means
for this audience? Sometimes we apply the text in ways that might make the biblical writer
say, "Wait a minute, that's the wrong use of what I said." This is the heresy of a good truth
applied in the wrong way.
What does this heresy look like?
I heard someone preach a sermon from Ruth on how to deal with in-laws. Now, it's true that
in Ruth you have in-laws. The problem is, Ruth was not given to solve in-law problems.
The sermon had a lot of practical advice, but it didn't come from the Scriptures.
Someone might ask, "What's the problem with preaching something true and useful,
even if it's not the central thrust of your text or not what the writer had in mind?"
When we preach the Bible, we preach with biblical authority. We agree with Augustine:
What the Bible says, God says. Therefore, we bring to bear on, say, this in-law problem, the
full authority of God. The person hearing the sermon thinks, If I don't deal with my motherin-law this way, I am disobedient to God. To me, that's a rape of the Bible. You're saying
what God doesn't say.

How does such preaching affect a congregation?

One effect is that you undermine the Scriptures you say you are preaching. Ultimately,
people come to believe that anything with a biblical flavor is what God says.
The long-term effect is that we preach a mythology. Myth has an element of truth along
with a great deal of puff, and people tend to live in the puff. They live with the implications
of implications, and then they discover that what they thought God promised, he didn't
promise.
A week ago I talked with a young woman whose husband had left her. She said, "I have
tried to be submissive. Doesn't the Bible say if a wife submits, she'll have a happy and
successful marriage?" No," I said, "the Bible doesn't say that." She said, "I've gone to
seminars and heard that." "What the Bible says is you have a responsibility as a wife. A
husband also has a responsibility. But the best you may have is a C marriage. There is no
guarantee you will have an A marriage."
What makes Bible application so prone to error?
In application we attempt to take what we believe is the truth of the eternal God, which was
given in a particular time and place and situation, and apply it to people in the modern
world who live in another time, another place, and a very different situation. That is harder
than it appears. The Bible is specificPaul writes letters to particular churches; the stories
are specificbut my audience is general. For example, a man listening to a sermon can
identify with David committing adultery with Bathsheba, but he's not a king, and he doesn't
command armies. We have to take this text that is historically specific and determine how
the living God speaks from it to people today.
What's the best way to do that?
Preachers make that journey in different ways. One is to take the biblical text straight over
to the modern situation. In some cases, that works well. For example, Jesus says, "Love
your enemies." I say to my listeners: "Do you have enemies? Love them."
But then I turn the page, and Jesus says, "Sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow
me." I hesitate to bring this straight over because I think, If everybody does this, we'll have
problems, big problems. Some texts look as though they can come straight over to my
contemporary audience, but not necessarily. I need to know something about the
circumstances of both my text and of my audience.

For example?
Let's say I ask the question, as many Christians did in the last century, "Is slavery wrong?" I
go to Paul, who does talk about slavery. But I discover when I get into his world that he's
not necessarily answering my questions about the nineteenth century in America, because
the slavery Paul talks about isn't the slavery we knew in the United States in the nineteenth
century.
In the first century, people sold themselves into slavery because they were economically

better off as slaves, protected by their owners, than they were free. Most slaves were freed
by age 30, because in that day maintaining slaves was economically difficult. Roman law
said an owner could not handle slaves any way he wanted to. And if you walked down the
streets of Rome, you could not tell the slaves from the free men by the color of their skin.
If I don't realize that Paul's situation and mine are different, I may apply Paul's advice about
slaves in a way it was never intended. Another difficulty is that Paul talks to people I can't
see or hear. It's like overhearing a telephone conversation. I listen to only half of the
conversation, and I think I know what the other person is saying, but I can't be sure. I can
only guess at what the full conversation is from what I hear one person saying. The
questions the writer answers are not necessarily my questions.
What signals that we may be confusing the questions?
A text cannot mean what it has not meant. That is, when Paul wrote to people in his day, he
expected them to understand what he meant. For example, we have some thirty different
explanations for what Paul meant when he wrote the Corinthians about the baptism for the
dead. But the people who read that letter the first time didn't say, "I wonder what he meant
by that." They may have had further questions, but the meaning of the subject was clear to
them.
I cannot make that passage mean something today that it did not mean in principle in the
ancient world. That's why I have to do exegesis. I have to be honest with the text before I
can come over to the contemporary world. I picture a "ladder of abstraction" that comes up
from the biblical world and crosses over and down to the modern setting. I have to be
conscious how I cross this "abstraction ladder." I want to make sure the biblical situation
and the current situation are analogous at the points I am making them connect. I must be
sure the center of the analogy connects, not the extremes. Sometimes, as I work with a text,
I have to climb the abstraction ladder until I reach the text's intent.
Give us an example
Leviticus says, "Don't boil a kid in its mother's milk." First, you have to ask, "What is this
all about?" At face value, you might say, "If I have a young goat, and I want to cook it in its
mother's milk for dinner tonight, I should think twice." But we now know the pagans did
that when they worshiped their idolatrous gods. Therefore, what you have here is not a
prohibition against boiling a kid in its mother's milk, but against being involved in the
idolatry that surrounded God's people or bringing its practices into their religion.
If that's the case, it does no good for the preacher to bring this text straight over. You must
climb the ladder of abstraction a couple of levels until you reach the principle: You should
not associate yourself with idolatrous worship, even in ways that do not seem to have direct
association with physically going to the idol.
Let's say you know that a passage can't come straight across. How do you go about
climbing the abstraction ladder?
One thing I always do with a passage is abstract up to God. Every passage has a vision of
God, such as God as Creator or Sustainer. Second I ask, "What is the depravity factor?
What in humanity rebels against that vision of God?" These two questions are a helpful

clue in application because God remains the same, and human depravity remains the same.
Our depravity may look different, but it's the same pride, obstinacy, disobedience.
Take 1 Corinthians 8, in which Paul addresses the subject of eating meat offered to idols.
The vision of God: He is our redeemer. Therefore, Paul argues, I will not eat meat, because
if I wound my brother's weak conscience, I sin against Christ, who redeemed him.
The depravity factor: People want their rights, so they don't care that Christ died for their
brother.
How do you preach about situations not addressed directly in the biblical text? It
doesn't really help listeners to say, "God doesn't speak to your situation."
Sometimes, though, I think a preacher would do a congregation well to say that. It's
instructive that some things we spend time praying about have so little kingdom dimension
to them. A while ago, an acquaintance was trying to decide which of two or three cars to
buy. He wanted me to pray that he would buy the car that would be most pleasing to God. I
said to him, "It's conceivable that God doesn't want you to have a car at all. Maybe you
ought to take the train." I was teasing him, but we need to remember, a great mass of people
in the world don't have a bike to ride.
Are preachers today more likely to apply a passage a certain way than would
preachers of a generation ago?
Today, what's prevalent is specific application. In the past, the application would have been
more generalto trust God and give him glory. Today, preaching deals with how to have a
happy marriage, how to bring up your children, how to deal with stress.
That's challenging, because in any congregation sit people with incredibly varied
backgrounds. How do you apply well to each one?
We tend to apply a passage to people like ourselves. If you're 35 and you associate with
young professionals in the church, you'll tend to keep those people in mind.
It's helpful to make a grid of the people in your church in terms of things like age, marital
status, housing situation, net worth, education. After you determine the principle in a
passage, you look at the grid and ask, "What does this say to a single person in her fifties
who works in a grocery store and lives with her parents?" It may not say anything, but you
continue asking that question for each grouping. When I prepare, I imagine about eight
people standing around my desk. One is my wife's mother, who is a true believer. In my
mind, I also picture a friend who is a cynic, and sometimes I can hear him saying, "Oh,
yeah, sure." I picture a business executive who thinks bottom line. I have in my mind a
teenager, whom I can occasionally hear saying, "This is boring." I look at these folks in my
mind and think, What does this have to say to them?
After preaching a sermon have you ever said, "I wish I hadn't applied it quite like
that"?
That's the story of my life. In my twenties I preached some things I believed deeply then,
but now I wonder, How in the world did I come up with that?I remember believing that

headship meant the husband ought to take care of the finances. Worse, my wife insists that
in a sermon on marriage, one of my main points was that a wife ought not serve her
husband instant coffee! Obviously that application came out of the culture of that day more
than anything else. It preached well. In those days I used anything that popped into my head
that looked like it applied. The awful thing was I said in the name of God what God was
not saying. Is it disobedience against God for the wife to keep the checkbook? Of course
not. Asking the question, "Does this rank at the level of obedience?" is a good test of
sermon application.
What do you say when you can't say, "This is a matter of obedience to God"?
We want to have a "Thus saith the Lord" about specific things in people's lives, but we can't
always have that. So we need to distinguish between various types of implications from the
text. Implications may be necessary, probable, possible, improbable, or impossible.
For example, a necessary implication of "You shall not commit adultery" is you cannot
have a sexual relationship with a person who is not your spouse. A probable implication is
you ought to be very careful of strong bonding friendships with a person who is not your
spouse. A possible implication is you ought not travel regularly to conventions or other
places with a person who is not your spouse. An improbable conclusion is you should not
at any time have lunch with someone who is not your spouse. An impossible implication is
you ought not have dinner with another couple because you are at the same table with a
person who is not your spouse. Too often preachers give to a possible implication all the
authority of a necessary implication, which is at the level of obedience. Only with
necessary implications can you preach, "Thus saith the Lord."
How would you phrase such distinctions in the pulpit?
One way is to say, "This is the principle, and the principle is clear. How this principle
applies in our lives may differ with different people in different situations."
For example, the principle of honoring one's parents is not negotiable. But do you keep an
elderly parent at home, or do you put the parent in a nursing home? You may want to say,
"To honor your parent you ought to keep him at home." But someone may say, "I have
three children, and my parent wanders the house in the middle of the night, waking the kids
and disrupting the household, and it's hurting the kids." Now we have principles in tension.
That application may disappoint many congregations because they like to be told exactly
what to do.
If you as a preacher could increase your sermon preparation time from eight hours to
ten, what would you do with those two hours to most improve your application?
I would invest those hours in whatever I tend not to focus on. People who are good at
exegesis tend to spend a lot of time in that and may not know when to quit. Those folks
would be well served to spend extra time on how to communicate the fruit of their research.
Others are into the communication side. They're always relevant, but they desperately need
to spend more time in the biblical text to let it speak to them.

How do you view the Holy Spirit's role in the process of applying the text to the
listener's life?
The Spirit answers to the Word. If I am faithful to the Scriptures, I give the Spirit of God
something to work on that he doesn't have if I'm preaching Reader's Digest.
I have a formula: Pain + time + insight = change. Sometimes people go through pain over a
period of time, but that doesn't change them. But pain and time plus insight will, and that's
where the preacher comes in. This explains why on a given Sunday the sermon is a wide
yawn for many. Even with the greatest preachers, not every sermon stirs everybody. But
then people will say to you, "You can't imagine how that spoke to me." They didn't come to
church neutral; they came with pain suffered over a period of time. They received insight
from the sermon, it clicked, and change occurred in their life.
When did you sense the Spirit applying a sermon to you?
Several years ago I was out of sorts with God. I came to church one Sunday, and the
preacher was not particularly good, but he dealt with the biblical text. I did not want to read
that biblical text, but I couldn't get away from it. The preacher did not apply the text to my
situation, but the Word itself got through to me in such a way that after the service I had to
go for a long drive. It was one of those moments when you say, "God has confronted me,
and it's going to be dangerous business if I don't listen." It was as though that passage and
that preacher and the Spirit had picked me out of the crowd. The sermon was not eloquent,
but that passage and his sticking with it drove home the truth to my life.
That's the greatness of preaching. Something can always happen when a preacher takes
God's Word seriously.
1997 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. For reprint information call 630-260-6200 or email ljeditor@leadershipjournal.net.
Fall 1997, Vol.XVIII, No. 4, Page 20

Perspectives

When Flint Strikes Steel: An interview with Haddon Robinson on how

preaching has changed in the last half century
By Emily R. Brink, Haddon Wheeler Robinson
June 1996

One cold January night, I reached Haddon Robinson by phone in Charlotte, North
Carolina, where he teaches at the southern campus of Gordon-Conwell Theological
Seminary. A professor of preaching, Robinson divides his time between Charlotte and the
seminary's main campus in Boston.
Many preachers are familiar with Robinson from his book Biblical Preaching (Baker,
1980), a text used in over a hundred seminaries and Bible colleges across North America.
In addition to serving as a senior editor for Christianity Today, Robinson's voice is heard
on the Radio Bible Class, which is broadcast on more than six hundred stations.
Robinson's preaching, teaching, and lecturing all over North America have given him a
good vantage point. So I asked him about the state of preaching today compared to ten or
more years ago. Painting in broad strokes, Robinson sketches a panoramic view of the
changes in preaching in the last half of the twentieth century. Some of those changes, says
Robinson, are welcome; others are not.
Emily R. Brink
RW: How do preachers see themselves today compared to a generation ago? Have preachers
changed their image of what they do when they preach?

Robinson: In their sermons, preachers reflect the shift of authority in our culture. Over the
last half century, the model of the preacher has shifted in at least three ways.
Back in the 1940s and before, preachers saw their role as that of evangelist: they
proclaimed Christ to the uncoverted. The major way that people came to Christ in those
days, believe it or not, was through the Sunday evening evangelistic hour and through
summertime revival meetingsparticularly in the Baptist and other non-denominational
evangelical churches.
In the '50s, '60s, and 70s, the model of the preacher shifted to that of teacher. It was not
unusual for pastors to have overhead projectors and actually teach a lesson. The sermon
strongly resembled a lecture.
During the '80s and '90s, the model has shifted to that of therapist. We live in a therapeutic
culture today, and preaching reflects that emphasis. Preachers today try to meet the
emotional and psychological needs of the converted, who live in a secular culture.
Preachers deal with people's problems.

How has the changing role of the preacher affected sermons?

Titles of sermons in the three periods reflect the different roles. In the 1940s, it was not
unusual to see titles like "What Must I Do to Be Saved?" or "Heaven and Hell Are in the
Balance." The purpose of the sermon was to get people to come to Christ.
When teaching became the focus in the following three decades, you would find titles like
"The Doctrine of the Trinity" or "Law and Grace in Galatians."
The therapy model currently in vogue deals much more with problems: "How to Overcome
Depression", for example, or "Building Better Relationships."
So sermon titles have changed over the years because the nature of preaching has changed.
In the Reformed tradition in the past, the pastor either followed a schedule of doctrinal
preaching (for example, the Heidelberg Catechism) or worked his way through a part of
Scripture, focusing on the content of the passage.
Today the tendency in preaching is to be topical. So the preacher starts not with the biblical
text, but with people's needs. He or she chooses a topic like "How to Deal with Conflict."
But while the sermon draws on a Scripture passage, the body of the sermon often draws
more content from psychology and counseling texts than from the Bible.
Is there any corresponding shift in another directionback to Scripture, for examplein
churches that have started to use the lectionary? I sense that some of the mainline churches
are rediscovering the power of Scripture again.

I think you are right. After all, how long can preachers try to define all the problems people
face? Pastors I meet in my traveling and teaching tell me how incredibly difficult it is to
come up with a new problem every week, speak to it, and not sound like Reader's Digest.
I think pastors are also rediscovering that the Bible deals with fundamental problems
people face in virtually every culture. So there may be a move back to raising some of the
questions the Bible raises. It is not, at this point, a full-fledged move, but there may be a
trend.
Have these changing models of preachers and sermons affected the authority of the sermon?
What weight do sermons carry for hearers today?

I think that before and even during the '50s, the authority for the sermon rested in the
preacher. People trusted the preacher to tell them what the Bible said. After the '50s, the
authority shifted to the text, in the sense of the pastor saying, "Let me explain the Bible to
you." This is the time of Billy Graham's famous use of "The Bible says. . ." That's not to
say that before that time there was no concern about the Bible, but that concern wasn't
reflected as strongly in the sermons. Although the sermons were often drawn from a
passage, the preacher did not make a great attempt to really expose the listeners to the
passage. Listeners took the preacher's word that his sermon was true to the text.

Today, the validation for a sermon tends to be within the hearer. In fact, David Buttrick's
Homiletics makes no bones about it. The hearer is the seat of truth in a culture in which
there are no absolutes. Listeners believe what appeals to them. So the preacher (even an
orthodox preacher) makes a much greater attempt in a sermon to get the audience to agree
that what he or she is saying is valid: "This makes good sense to you, doesn't it?"
We think of the Reformation as being theological, but I think we could also argue that it
was technological. The technology of the printing press changed the way people thought.
Television changes things too.
What effect have the media had on preaching and sermons?

People who grew up in the '40s and '50s and earlier are better able to handle sustained
argument and to follow a logical sequence than a younger audience. I think the dominant
influence of television has something to do with that.
TV has influenced us every bit as much as the printing press, which was a revolutionary
invention. We think of the Reformation as being theological, but I think we could also
argue that it was technological. The technology of the printing press changed the way
people thought. Television changes things too.
When you think about the impact television has had on the sermon, you realize just how
much influence technology can have. Consider these facts:

Sermons are getting shorter, thirty minutes or less. In fact, some divinity schools are
suggesting twelve minutes.
Worship and liturgycomplete with numerous symbolsare given as much emphasis and
more time than the sermon in most churches (due, in part, to the growing awareness that
people worship as much through seeing or speaking or singing as through hearing).
Sermons are delivered with few or no notes by a pastor who stands out in the open
instead of behind a large pulpit (more like Jay Leno or Johnny Carson).
Sermon content has moved away from lecture toward narrative conversation.
Sermons make greater use of biblical narrative and less use of the epistles.
Humor is much more prevalent in sermons.

The list could go on and onand all of these changes are related in some way to the effect
of television on our ideas about symbol and communication.
A preacher who stands directly in front of the congregation would tend to speak in a different
style than one standing behind a pulpit. How have preachers changed their way of speaking?

Preachers of the past were often orators. Today, listeners do not sit still very long for a
"preaching tone." The tendency is to move away from oratory and toward conversation.
Along with that move is a corresponding move toward narrative preaching, which permits
the use of story. Television, which thrives on the use of image and incorporates the

elements of conflict, contributed to people's desire for the narrative approach. People get
more involved in narrative than in a deductive four-point kind of sermon.
Eugene Lowry plots his sermons like a play in his book Doing Time in the Pulpit. In fact,
that's his basic point: sermons have plots. They unroll in a manner that is more natural to
human communication. That means

they are more often inductive in development.

they are more often "first person" in perspective.
they are more often "narrative" in style and delivery.

What impact does that narrative, conversational approach have on listeners?

I think sermons today reflect a greater concern and respect for the listener. Preaching is
viewed as dialogue rather than monologue. And the application of the Bible's message to
our lives is central and not incidental to sermons.
Today's preachers have a better understanding of how emotions develop than the preachers
of the '40s and '50s did. They're aware that their listeners are more than blank pages and
that women are a major part of their congregation.
Preachers today also regard themselves more as communicators than teachers. I tell my
students that I wish they had never heard about preaching a sermon, because that tempts
them to pour the truth of Scripture into a certain mold. I encourage them to ask instead,
"How do I communicate this to people so they can understand it and act upon it?" What's
important is that the sermon communicate God's truth effectively so that the people
listening understand it and have some idea of what to do with it.
Whereas the orator or the teacher is content-centered, the communicator is people-centered.
Ask an orator to speak, and his first question will be, "What will I talk about?" Ask a
communicator to speak and her first question is, "Who is my audience?"
There is a danger in both extremes, of course. The communicator may be so audienceoriented that she will bend the truth. The orator may be so focused on the truth that he
ignores the audience. Obviously, what you would like to do is be true to the truth and be
true to the audience.
Do you have some final wisdom to pass along to today's preachers?

I'd like to remind them that great sermons take place when flint strikes steel. When the flint
of a person's problem strikes the steel of the Word of God, you get a spark, and the spark
will burn. Some sermons are too "flinty": they're all problem, and not much Scripture.
Others are all steel and no flint: they are strong on the Bible but stop short of challenging
people's lives.

What we want is some combination of the eternal Word of God striking people where they
live. Preachers who can do that have a better chance of reaching the audience today and in
years to come.
http://www.reformedworship.org/article/june-1996/when-flint-strikes-steel-interview-haddonrobinson-how-preaching-has-changed-last-

The Haddon Robinson Principle: How to Burn your Sermon into the
Brains of Your Audience.
Its amazing, isnt it? For all the folks who line up at the door, shaking your hand, happily
congratulating you on the message you just preached, how many of them really remember
it? Well! I should hope they ALL do they just heard it! Yes, but try asking them: what
was my message about? Do they know? Can they sum it up in one sentence? A
paragraph? Will they know this week, as they go about their daily lives? Will they know
next week, after its long gone?
Ill admit upfront I dont think pedagogy is the point of preaching; I think preaching does a
work of its own, even when folks dont remember the point. But I also know that preaching
can have a long-lasting, residual impact on people when its burned into their brains. The
prophets, Jesus and the apostles all used pedagogical technique to burn their message into
the hearts of their listeners; and we gladly have permission to do the same! The truth is, if
our congregation cant sum up our preaching in a sentence, its not going to impact life the
way it ought to; and if preaching doesnt change lives, its not good preaching.
This is where our friend Haddon Robinson comes in, most famous for his emphasis on Big
Idea preaching. Heres what he says: Ideally, each sermon is the explanation,
interpretation, or application of a single dominant idea supported by other ideas, all drawn
from one passage or several passages of Scripture. How many points was that? Three?
Five? No. One point. One single point. So heres our principle: Preach with a pin, not
with a hammer. A pin is a narrow, focused point designed to penetrate through surfaces. A
hammer has a wide, flat surface, and its designed to bat around and flatten the outer layers.
If we want preaching that penetrates the heart, we must preach with a pin. See what I mean
below:
1. A single point forces good editing. If nothing else, preaching a single point is a brilliant
help in editing content. The single most important question the preacher can ask himself
when creating a final manuscript is: How does this information contribute to my single
homiletical idea? If the preacher is honest, most of the interesting things we find in
exegesis the stuff that is fascinating, interesting, or relatively relevant has to be thrown
out. We dont like to do that, because the course of the week digs up so much gold its
tempting to put it ALL on display. This is where character comes into play am I
preaching for me, or am I preaching for them? Do I want to show off how much I know, or
be funny and entertaining, or do I want to change lives? Lectures delve into details;

preaching gets to the point. This is a painful process. At the end of the week, we know so
much about the text that were often tempted to lump it all into one gigantic, vague point
of the sermon. Sharpening and defining our point helps us resist this temptation, and limits
our preaching to only what people need to hear in order to understand and receive the main
point.
2. A single point guides listeners through the sermon. When digging deep into a text, we
really do find a lot of great, fascinating information. WE know how it all fits together. But
the law of the curse of knowledge tells us that we often impose our assumptions on our
audience THEY dont know how it all fits together. In order to help them follow along,
we need a single hook to hang all the points were making on. We need a single stake to
which the congregation can be drawn back, again and again, so we can say See? This is
how it all relates. Even if you dont give your main point away until the end (inductive
preaching thats what I prefer), the audience can sense the difference between a focused
message and scrambled eggs.
3. A single point makes a better argument. When we lay out several different points in a
sermon, we dont have time to argue well for any of them. When we come up with a
boatload of applications, we dont have time to flesh them out. But when we pick a single
point, we have the time we need to make a solid argument for that point, and to flesh out in
detail exactly how it looks to live it out.
4. A single point is memorable. Finally, preaching a single point is memorable. A couple
of months ago I preached a sermon in which I asked several questions, then answered them.
That was fine, but I never heard about it again. The next sermon I preached, I picked one
single point, and was amazed at the result. WEEKS later, people were still mentioning that
sermon, thinking of specific applications, still chewing on the truth presented that morning.
Did I say everything I wanted to say? No. But I said everything I needed to say, and thats
enough. Preaching one point allows us to feed the sheep throughout the week. That is a
beautiful, satisfying feeling for any Shepherd.
http://scribblepreach.com/2013/04/01/the-haddon-robinson-principle-how-to-burn-your-sermon-into-the-brains-of-youraudience/

Haddon W Robinson
A post by a Dr. Mike, that I found on his blog eternalperspectives.com relating the wisdom of one
of my most favourite preachers Haddon W Robinson, my favourite part being, ofcourse, "We're
done here, aren't we?" ~Absolute classic!
If there is one person, more than any other, who has had a determinative effect on my Christian
life, that man would be Haddon Robinson. This is remarkable since he has no idea who I am or the
effect he has had on my life. He probably would not be surprised by my statement he has
impacted and changed the course of many a life but perhaps he would be curious that he had
done so with me.

For those of you who are not familiar with Haddon W. Robinson, I will attempt to provide a brief
introduction to this truly unique man. Others who know him better could say much more; I offer
only what I think significant for the purposes of this post.
Haddon was voted one of the most influential Christians of the 20th Century, due no doubt to his
impact upon generations of preachers who came under his tutelage during his 40+ years of
teaching homiletics. He earned a Ph.D. in Speech Communication from the University of Illinois,
ostensibly in order to be able to communicate more effectively the word of God to believers and
unbelievers alike. He taught preaching at Dallas Theological Seminary for almost 20 years and was
president of Denver Seminary from 1979 until 1991. He then became the Harold John Ockenga
Distinguished Professor of Preaching at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in Massachusetts, a
position in which he now continues.
It was at Denver Seminary that I met Dr. Robinson as I referred to him in my pre-50 years. In fact,
I had gone to Denver for my Masters Degree primarily because he was there: I had heard him
preach many times (through the tape ministry of Believers Chapel in Dallas) and had concluded
that he knew God in ways that I did not know God. So I went to Denver to study counseling, but
also to be influenced by him.
During my three years at the seminary, I had only one conversation with Dr. Robinson. This is how
it came about:
I was a first-year student (a tipoff for anyone whos ever been or had to deal with a seminary
student) and was frustrated with my professor of New Testament. Actually, I was indignant with
him, feeling that he was not giving my particular doctrinal position a fair play in his presentations
to the class. (If you own an NIV Study Bible, flip to the opening pages sometime and note the
editors listed there. One of the three general editors is Dr. Donald Burdick, perhaps an unknown
name to most but well known to the evangelical, scholarly community. This same Donald Burdick,
who probably had been teaching New Testament longer than I had been walking the planet, was
the professor whom I regarded with arrogant disgust and disdain.)

So I did what any grandiose, first-year seminarian would do. I made an appointment with the
president of the seminary, Dr. Robinson.
As I look back on it, I am amazed by Dr. Robinsons grace and patience. First of all, I am amazed
that I was able to get an appointment with him. Although oblivious at the time, I now understand
the demands upon his time and the humility it required for him to give an audience to not just a
virtual but an actual nobody. Second, he listened to me carefully as I laid out my complaint about
his colleague and friend, Dr. Burdick. What followed was, I believe, classic Haddon Robinson.
Dr. Robinson never addressed my complaint or concerns. Instead, he told me a story. This (or
something very much like it) is what he said:
Im sure you know that Dr. Burdicks wife was diagnosed with Alzheimers some years ago
[Actually, being totally self-absorbed, I had no idea]. Despite his continuing commitment to his
ministry here at the seminary, and despite maintaining a full load of teaching, he has refused to
put his wife in a nursing home. He gets up in the morning and cares for her: feeding, cleaning,
dressing, combing her hair, brushing her teeth. She can do nothing for herself. Nothing. Then he
leaves for the seminary, teaches a class, and immediately goes home between classes to care for
her again. Then he comes back to teach. The following day, he does it again. He will not allow a
nurse or anyone else to do for his wife what he himself can do. He has been doing this for years
now.
I was talking to Donald one day and, knowing the load he was under, said to him, How do you do
it? How do you so faithfully attend to your ministry and, at the same time, give your wife the love
and care and attention she needs?
Donald looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, Haddon, its the greatest privilege Ive ever
had in my life.
As if scripted, his phone rang even as his words were still hanging pregnant in the air. He listened
for a few seconds, covered the receiver and, turning to me, said, Were done here, arent we?
We were done. I nodded a stunned reply, rose quietly, and left Dr. Robinsons office. My life had
just been changed in ways I was only later to appreciate. What was important in the Christian life,
my view of people, my relationship with my wife it all began to shift at that moment. It continues
to change more than 20 years later.
Dr. Burdick looked different to me when I next went to my New Testament class. He looked
human. Or, more accurately, I saw that he was human: loving, tender, frightened, caring, weak,
and struggling. At the end of the quarter, he gave me a C+ for the class. It was the only grade
lower than a B that I ever got in grad school, either at the masters or doctoral level. But Dr.

Burdick provided the platform and much of the substance for the best education I got at either
Denver or Trinity.
What Haddon had done was to see through my indignation to the root of my problem: I was
unloving, and I was unloving because I did not see Dr. Burdick as a fellow human being, an alien in
the world, a struggler trying to be faithful to the God we both claimed to love and serve. I was
unloving because I did not see him as a brother in Christ who needed my compassion and
encouragement, not my scorn and criticism.
Haddon cut through the fluff and opened my eyes and heart. Those fifteen minutes were worth all
the thousands of dollars (of debt) spent earning my degree. For the remainder of my seminary
career, I studied my lessons carefully but I studied my professors much more closely. I looked for
the hearts of these professors, trying to understand the motivation within them. Whether it was
Bruce Demarest, James Beck, Vernon Grounds, or Robert Alden, I tried desperately to look inside
them in order to get a glimpse of Jesus Christ. I was not disappointed.
But even more than before, I began to study Haddon. I devoured his books, read articles by and
about him, listened to interviews and radio shows he did, and studied whatever sermons of his
that I could find. I still do.
I am aware that he is not perfect he, too, has feet of clay so this is not a case of idealization or
idolization. Haddon is quick to admit to his own struggles and missteps. But I do appreciate him as
someone who has so committed himself to serving Christ and educating men and women in
preparation for ministry. And I am admittedly still in awe of his insight, intelligence, and wisdom.
I will probably never have the opportunity to talk to Haddon and tell him of the impact he has had
and continues to have on my life. But were such a time to become available to me once again, I
would seize the chance to simply tell him thanks.
Thanks, Haddon, for teaching me how to think about God, about His word, and about His people.
For continually and faithfully demonstrating a commitment to the Bible and people, borne out in
your writings and sermons. Thanks for providing a living example of how great genius and
tenderness can be melded together.
And thanks especially for teaching me that Christianity is not primarily about ideas, concepts, and
truths, but is truly about loving relationships with God and people, about grace and compassion,
about being and not just thinking.
I forget these lessons sometimes and, when I do, I slip a tape or cd into the player and listen to
Haddon one more time. And I am the better for it.
2 Cor 1:13.

http://mwindulambewe.blogspot.com/2010/05/haddon-w-robinson.html

EXPOSICION BBLICA DE Lucas 12:13-21 Dr. Haddon Robinson Primer taller LanghamCaribe, Coveas Colombia Abril 17-20 de 2012

IDEA BASICA: Tengan cuidado con la codicia, porque la vida del ser humano no
consiste en la abundancia de sus posesiones.
INTRODUCCIN:
Una de las dificultades del predicador es la prdida de atencin de los oyentes. Esto puede
desanimar al mejor predicador. An Jess tena en su auditorio a personas que en realidad
no le escuchaban. Una de estas ocasiones se relata en Lucas 12:13. Jess est predicando
sobre los grandes temas del tiempo y la eternidad ante un auditorio de miles (12:1).
Les est diciendo que si temen a Dios, no hay necesidad de temer a nada ni a nadie. En
plena prdica, un hombre se abre paso a codazos entre la multitud y claramente interrumpe
a Jess en la mitad de su discurso, Maestro, dile a mi hermano que parta conmigo la
herencia.
Qu problema tiene este hombre? A primera vista parece que su padre ha muerto.
Probablemente es el hijo menor de la familia y su hermano el ejecutor de la herencia. Segn
Deuteronomio 21 el hermano menor heredaba la tercera parte de las propiedades del padre,
pero este sujeto sinti que su hermano se demoraba demasiado en darle su parte, y dicha
herencia lleg a ser la totalidad de su vida.
El sol nunca ms dara calor como antes, ni las flores luciran tan bellas hasta que su
hermano le diera su justa porcin. Aqu est en la mismsima presencia de Jess,
escuchando sus palabras y lo nico que le viene a la mente es su herencia. Se ha convertido
en obsesin, y una obsesin lejos de ser magnifica. De pronto busca que este popular
rabino intervenga. Maestro dile a mi hermano que parta la herencia conmigo.
Jess da una respuesta brusca, bordeando en ofensiva, Hombre, quin me ha puesto sobre
vosotros como juez o partidor? Siglos atrs Moiss haba intervenido en una pelea entre
dos hebreos y uno de ellos le desafo: Quin te a puso a ti como prncipe o juez sobre
nosotros? (Ex 2:14).
Moiss quiso arreglar una disputa y fue rechazado por sus compatriotas. Aqu un
compatriota quiere que Jess intervenga para arreglar su caso y Jess le rechaza. No era
asunto de l.
Al decir esto, Jess no estaba diciendo que esto no fuese competencia de nadie. Jess saba
que en un mundo cado se requiere de jueces, abogados y cortes. Solo aclaraba que no le
competa a l. No era la razn por la cual El haba venido.
Luego Jess se dirige a la multitud y les previene: Mirad y guardaos de toda avaricia,
porque la vida del hombre no consiste en la abundancia de los bienes que posee. (12:15).

La mayora de las traducciones utilizan la palabra codicia porque quin entiende hoy en
da la palabra avaricia? Muchas personas piensan que Moiss y Dios inventaron nuevas y
muy buenas leyes e introdujeron lo de la avaricia para redondear la lista a diez.
Nosotros no la predicamos, ni nos arrepentimos de ella. Pero Jess dice que tengamos
cuidado, porque la vida no consiste en nuestras posesiones. Codicia es el deseo de tener
ms y ms de lo que tenemos, ya que suficiente no es suficiente.
Y de qu cosas habla Jess? Simplemente cosas. Cosas grandes y cosas chiquitas. Cosas
para lucir, cosas para manejar, cosas en la cuales vivir. Tu vida no consiste de cosas.
Sin embargo una multitud de voces en nuestra sociedad nos dice que la vida s consiste en
tener cosas. Luego para rematar, Jess les cont la historia de un hombre rico. Tena todo.
Era un terrateniente acomodado y sus cosechas producan otras cosechas ms abundantes.
Era muy exitoso y admirado por todos en su comunidad. Era rico. Era industrioso. Era
progresista.
Jess nos relata la historia de la noche cuando este hombre recibi una visita inesperada. La
escena demuestra la futilidad de vivir para tener ms y ms cosas.
En 12: 22-31 Jess se vuelve hacia los discpulos y les habla: Si la vida no consiste en
conseguir ms y ms cosas, en qu consiste?
Confa en el cuidado de Dios.
Da dos ejemplos de por qu ellos pueden confiar en el cuidado del Padre:
Considerad las aves. Ellas no se angustian y Dios las cuida. (22-26)
Considerad los lirios que Dios viste con hermosura. Si tu padre hace esto con una flor en
el campo, no puedes tu confiar en el para la comida y el vestido?
De la misma manera que los paganos buscan cosas, nosotros debemos buscar primeramente
su reino y todo lo dems se pondr en su debido lugar.
CONCLUSIN: Es una estupidez dar tu vida por algo que no permanece, en vez de lo
eterno.
http://bereano-devociondiaria.blogspot.com/2012/04/exposicion-biblica-de-lucas-1213-21dr.html