I preached my first sermons in a Mexican jail.  Once or twice each week a group of local teens (and one teenaged “gringo”) would lug an old Fender amplifier, a couple of electric guitars, and a microphone through two sets of iron gates into a veritable city of the wretched and forgotten. While someone set up our equipment in the central courtyard, the rest of us would walk through the “streets” of the Ignacio Allende prison in Veracruz and mingle with the inmates, listen to their stories, and invite them to “church.”

There were petty thieves, ruined drug addicts, flamboyant transvestites, and perhaps even a few hardened criminals.  Surprisingly, by their own accounts, they were all innocent of any wrongdoing. They would plead with us to mail a letter to a loved one who seemed to not be getting their messages (or, more likely, were ignoring them), to call their attorney from whom they had not heard in months, or to bring them some item from the outside to make their lives a bit easier within those walls.

We would start the music and a rag-tag congregation would gather in the courtyard, under the vigilant eyes of machine-gun toting guards on the walls above. They would sing enthusiastically, clapping their hands and dancing to the music.  Then they would listen attentively as we opened the Scriptures and preached a gospel message.  We would end with an invitation to pray the “sinner’s prayer,” and everyone would “get saved” every week.  Of course, we were often uncertain of the sincerity of their confessions, but there were some whose lives began to change, and we would walk with them in discipleship over time.  Occasionally, one of them would get out of jail and show up at the doors of our local church.

It was actually a friendly place to learn to preach.  The audience was quite literally captive.  Their lives were so empty that the bi-weekly services in the courtyard were the highlights of their days.  Perhaps most importantly, for all their feigned innocence, they were all irreparably broken, prisoners in a desperate existence that was  the direct result of their own poor choices — and they knew it.  Guilty, broken, powerless to save themselves.  Ripe for the gospel.

We were awkward and green, youthfully unskilled in both content and presentation. In retrospect, even some of our theology was probably a bit askew, or at least immature.  But it didn’t matter.  The audience was hungry for the message.

Few beginning preachers today, especially in the developed western world, have such ready soil in which to sow the seeds of their first sermons.  Today’s listeners are anesthetized to guilt by a postmodern ethic, rendered oblivious to the emptiness of their lives by the abundance of their “stuff,” and immunized from any sense of their own brokenness by the false hope of pop therapeutic solutions, career ladders, or the pursuit of pleasure.

Rare are the opportunities in our post-Christian world to proclaim the gospel to truly desperate souls.  And many of those who do show up to listen are sermon junkies, consumers of the daily podcasts of celebrity preachers, comparing each sermon they hear to the performances of the latest and greatest pulpit superstars. It’s no wonder many young ministers today are reluctant to acknowledge, much less answer, a call to preach.

If you are a preacher, or would-be preacher, who struggles with the daunting challenges of preaching in this moment in history, this blog is for you.  I’m here to tell you that not only is it possible to preach God’s word faithfully and effectively to this generation, but this might be one of the most exciting times in history to do so!

After a decade in seminary (including a PhD in preaching), and a decade in the pastorate (cranking out three sermons a week), God tweaked my calling from “preacher” to “preacher and encourager/equipper of preachers.” Since 1997 I have taught and coached preachers who are on the front lines of gospel proclamation in post-modern, post-Christian settings. I’ve also been privileged to preach consistently in these settings, serving on preaching teams in some great churches, often alongside my students and former students.

This journey has led me to some interesting discoveries and some firm convictions about gospel proclamation in this moment in history.  I blog about preaching because I want to share what I’ve learned with other preachers — particularly those who are at the beginning of their preaching ministries.

Meet Glenn Watson …

• MDiv., Ph.D (Preaching) Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary

• Senior Pastor of two churches in Texas (1986-1996)

• Missionary, International Mission Board, SBC (1996-present)

• Professor of Practical Theology, Seminário Teológico Baptista, Queluz, Portugal (1997-2007)

• Professor of Preaching and Pastoral Ministry, Canadian Southern Baptist Seminary, Cochrane, Alberta (2007-present)

• Member

  • Evangelical Homiletics Society

  • Evangelical Theological Society

  • Association of Ministry Guidance Professionals

• Married to Sherri since 1982. Three sons, 9 grandchildren.

“Today’s listeners are anesthetized to guilt by a postmodern ethic, rendered oblivious to the emptiness of their lives by the abundance of their “stuff,” and immunized from any sense of their own brokenness by the false hope of pop therapeutic solutions, career ladders, or the pursuit of pleasure.”

“… not only is it possible to preach God’s word faithfully and effectively to this generation, but this might be one of the most exciting times in history to do so!”