The Sunday Afternoon inner voice: "Was my sermon good today?"

As preachers, we’ve all probably been there. It’s 2:00 PM on Sunday. The service is past us, lunch dishes are cleared, and the "Sunday Afternoon Shadow" has officially arrived. Perhaps as a hollow feeling that follows the adrenaline of the morning. You replay your words, analyzing the faces in the third row, and asking the question many preachers battle:

“Was my sermon actually good today?”

Maybe you tried something different. A new illustration, a story, or a creative metaphor to connect the Bible to current life. You really dedicated yourself to provide a moment of connection and instruction, but now, after the Sunday lunch is over, the inner critic starts to whisper:

• “Did that actually make sense to anyone but me?”

• “Was I just being an entertainer instead of a preacher?”

• “Did I miss the mark entirely?

You replay in your head the faces coming out of the Service and shaking your hand, trying to guess what's on the minds of many of them.

Compliments and the Sermon's goal

At the door, the preacher may get the usual "Good sermon, Pastor." He smiles as he weighs the enthusiasm of the handshake and/or the warmth of their faces against his own sense of performance. Or they just keep telling themselves "the centre is Christ, not my writing and delivery", knowing though that this is not enough to silence that little voice.

But we have to ask: Are compliments the goal of a sermon? 

If a sermon is "good" only when it’s complimented, then the Gospel has been reduced to a human production and the congregation to an auditorium of either cheerers or judges. If we put our the need of validation ahead of the need of proclamation, we may not be preaching a message of forgiveness anymore, but just auditioning for approval. A truly "good" sermon might actually leave a congregation quiet, reflective, or even a little uncomfortable as they wrestle with the Spirit. 

The "Flipped Card" of the Preacher

In one of my recent sermons, I used a card trick to illustrate how the enemy uses one "flipped card"—one mistake, one insecurity—to convince us that the "whole deck" of our identity and work is ruined.

The irony? As preachers, we are prone to fall for that same trick. We take one quiet congregation, one or two members who looked to their phone during the service, or those who stared at the walls and we let it "flip the deck". We tell ourselves the message is not connecting, even halfway through the sermon itself, because we didn't see an immediate, visible and rewarding response from the pews.  Not to mention that we are judging the way in which people pay attention to sermons according to our own standards.

When that afternoon shadow falls, we need to discern where it’s coming from. Does it come from healthy preaching? Sometimes we feel a weight because the Word we preached is heavy. True Law and Gospel ministry is taxing. It’s the some holy exhaustion of sowing seeds in hard soil. Or is it Self-Image? That happens when it is rooted in our self-perception. We feel "down" not because the Word wasn't spoken, but because we are worried about what people will think about us and our work. We fear we looked awkward, or our "hook" felt clunky, or we didn't sound as polished, or as sharp, as the podcast preacher others admire.

If your peace of mind depends on how well you performed, you aren't allowing the Gospel to be your resting place; you are living under the Law of "doing enough."

How many are enough?

But let's concede for a minute that compliments are important, say, as a metric to help us understand how well we are communicating and connecting with our public.

How many of them are enough?

How many "good jobs" does it take to silence the inner critic? Ten? Fifty? The truth is, if your self-evaluation about your preaching activity lies here, the number is never high enough. There's good chance that, after a line line of a hundred people praising your exegesis and application, you will still fixate on the one or two that looked down or looked away most of the time you were in the pulpit.

When we ask "Was it good?" what we are often really asking is, "Am I okay? Am I enough?" 

Why Your "Creative Risk" Probably Worked

If you’re feeling that uncertainty Sunday after Sunday, it is always a good opportunity of self-evaluation and improvement on your human skills. But it might as well be that your message  hit deeper than you think:

_Silence is Often a Sign of Depth: We often mistake a lack of chatter for a lack of interest or boredom. In reality, when a sermon addresses the "interior monologue"—the hidden fears, the secret shames, the longing for hope—people can go quiet because they are inwardly digesting it. They have been seen and talked to. And that generates reactions that doesn't always translates into smiles and nods.

_The Word is the Ground: If you pointed your people away from their own performance and toward the grace of God, you did your job. The goal of a creative hook isn't for the congregation to walk out impressed by the messenger; it’s for them to walk out resting in the Message.

_"Jesus Only": If you ended your sermon by pointing them away from the "trick" and toward the touch of Christ (Matthew 17:7-8), you did your job. The goal isn't for them to walk out impressed by the preacher, but to see "no one but Jesus only."

_You Provided a Mental Framework: If you use a relatable analogy or a creative "hook" to explain how grace works, you give your people a tool they can actually carry into their week.  

At any given Sunday, if you preached God's Word, you didn't fail. You weren't "entertaining"; you were translating. Your identity is not the sum of your Sunday morning performance. If you are certain that you poured into it your best to make it:

1)anchored your Sermon in the Scriptures

2)centred in Jesus

3)proclaim the forgiveness of their sins

4)aimed at their benefit in their daily life

5)filled with the best of your ability to illustrate, deliver and connect,

then the Gospel you preached to them is for you, too. You told them that they don't have to "earn" God’s favour. You delivered them Law and Gospel, the Word of God, in its pure power of its proclamation.

The sermon is over. The Word is out. The results belong to the Holy Spirit. You will certainly appreciated compliments, but your task of proclamation are not defined by them. The Word you preach every Sunday is the Word of the One who sent you.

Relax and just enjoy your Sunday afternoon.