words of hope

Why do people week after week return to their hard chairs before dull pulpits to hear a preacher thrash about in a limbo of words relating vaguely to some topic snatched desperately on Saturday night from the minister’s own twilight zone? Habit? In some measure, yes, but the sermons they have been hearing have been such as to break even the strongest addiction. The survival of the habit can be partially accounted for by the nourishment it receives from a subterranean hope: perhaps today there will be a word from God. This is a hope born of faith in a God made known through words.

As One Without Authority, Fred Craddock