“It’s not over till it’s over,” Yogi Berra famously said. I assume he was not talking about sermons. They are often over long before we stop talking. Sermons need to start well and end even better.

I am writing this post in an airplane that just landed so roughly that the lights flickered and my row-mate woke up. Bummer.

I know of at least four components of a terrible, turbulent sermon landing.

Winging the landing

Preaching professors wisely point this out to students. Why then do our conclusions often feel like we are crash landing in the Potomac River?

Several of my sermons have started strong and finished weak because I winged it on the landing.

Invest at least as much thought and prayer into the landing as the takeoff, because someone may be prayerfully on the verge of making an important spiritual decision.

Ignoring the clock

One assumption you can make in North America is that everyone knows what time it is throughout your sermon. Preachers who ignore this assumption are guilty of presumption. Pastors who presume to preach until they feel like stopping are putting too much trust in themselves.

Preaching is a privilege, not a right, so make sure you know when you are expected to stop, and try to finish the sermon and prayer by that time.

It always helps me to have a digital clock that I can see at all times on the front row or the front of the balcony. Presumptive preaching imposes your schedule onto others who have entrusted you with both the message and the delivery.

Introducing a new point

If you don’t end your sermon with the same point you introduced, you have broken a sacred promise. My best sermons are those with only one real point. If any part of my exposition, illustrations and application are disconnected from the main truth God wants them to remember, I need to take it out of the sermon. This is especially true of the conclusion.

“Closing in prayer”

Start moving the final moments of your message toward a conversation between the listeners and God. If you want them to listen closely to God, you need to stop talking for a while. Otherwise you are merely “closing in prayer” instead of closing prayerfully.

People need an opportunity to respond to the Word of God. Regardless of whether people walk to the front of your church, go into a side room or stay seated—they need to do business with God before they move on with their lives. Prayer is something that everyone can do anywhere. Even those who watch online or listen via podcast can respond to God if you finish your sermon at His throne.

I would love for you to add your thoughts in the comments section.

I’ve been and always will be doggedly suspicious of pastors who rarely (or never) mention Jesus.

John Piper says, “What we desperately need is help to enlarge our capacities to be moved by the immeasurable glories of Christ.”

We ministers of the gospel—and Christians at large—can fumble this commission in three main ways.

1. We speak in vague spiritual generalities. 

Love. Hope. Peace. Joy. Harmony. Blessings. All disembodied from the specific atoning work of the incarnate Jesus and exalted Lord. It all sounds nice. It’s all very inspirational. And it’s rubbish. He himself is our peace. He himself is love. He himself is life. He does not make life better. He is life. Any pastor who talks about the virtues of faith, hope and love, with Jesus as some implied tangential source, is not feeding his flock well.

2. We present Christ mainly as moral exemplar. 

We tell people to be nice because Jesus was nice. We tell them to be sweet because Jesus was sweet, good because Jesus was good, hard-working because Jesus was hard-working, loving because Jesus was loving. This is all well and good, but you could substitute “Mother Teresa” or even “Oprah” for “Jesus” and essentially have the same message.

3. We avoid the real problem (sin) and therefore either ignore the real solution (the cross)—or confuse its meaning.

In many churches, not only is sin never mentioned, because it hurts people’s feelings or what-have-you, but the cross is rarely mentioned. And when the cross is mentioned, because we don’t want to talk about sin, it becomes the great affirmation of our specialness rather than the great punishment for our unholiness. The cross becomes not the intersection of God’s justice and mercy but the symbol of God’s positive feelings about our undeniable lovability.

The cross becomes the great affirmation of our specialness rather than the great punishment for our unholiness—not the intersection of God’s justice and mercy but the symbol of God’s positive feelings about our undeniable lovability.

In all of these instances and others, people are inspired and enthused, but they are moved by God’s recognition of their own awesomeness, not by the glories of Christ.

Even angels long to gaze into the life-giving riches of the gospel of grace. We prefer to drink deeply from the well into which we’re gazing—our navels.

Pastors, inspiration sells. But only Jesus transforms.

I struggle with mistakes. It’s not that I fear mistakes. On the leadership risk tolerance scale, I lean towards taking more risks. Messes, mistakes and outright failures come with taking regular, calculated risks. My struggle is not the fear of making a mistake. My struggle is the responsibility of owning the mistake.

My desire to be right supersedes my desire to take risks. In other words, I’m fine with admitting failure so long as I don’t have to deal with the problems it can create. So my attitude ends up being something like, It didn’t work. Can’t we just move on now? In the zero-sum game of commodities trading, or in the fast-paced race of venture capital, such an attitude might be beneficial (maybe). In the church, however, you’re being selfish when you have this attitude.

Your mistakes—my mistakes—involve people. Time, resources and energy were poured into whatever endeavor failed. The church placed hope into something you said would work. If a ministry initiative failed because of your leadership, then you need to own it. Owning a ministry mistake is more than simply admitting it happened. Even if there was no malice on your part, even if your heart was completely pure in motive, as a leader, you must take steps to own whatever ministry mistake occurred. The four steps below will help.

1. Apologize without an excuse. I’m sorry, but…(Wrong!). I’m sorry if…(Wrong!). I’m sorry, however…(Wrong!). These statements aren’t apologies; they are political posturing. When you make a mistake, the first step to owning it is simply saying, “I’m sorry.” Also, only address the group affected. If your mistake involved three people, then apologize to them, not the whole church. Conversely, if your mistake affected the whole church, don’t just apologize to three people.

2. Briefly explain why. Most people in the church understand leaders make mistakes. You likely won’t get much sympathy, such is the nature of leadership, but if you explain yourself, then people will understand. After apologizing, explain your actions. But don’t camp there. When you explain too much, you sound—and likely are—defensive.

3. Offer a corrective path forward. Explaining why a mistake occurred is a backward perspective. This step is a forward perspective. Tell the affected group the safe guards you’re putting in place to help prevent future, similar mistakes.

4. Don’t dwell on it. Don’t look back. Move down the corrective path and don’t wallow in the past. Some may even bring up past mistakes. Once you’ve owned the mistake, however, it’s time to move on from it. When someone mentions the previous mistake, a simple “thank you” is all you need to say.

Obviously, mistakes come in varying degrees. Taking a big risk with 25 percent of the church budget is completely different than trying something small with a few people. Making the same mistake five times is different than making a mistake once. The degree to which you apologize, explain why and offer a corrective path is proportional to the size and frequency of the mistake. Don’t be afraid to take risks. Don’t be afraid of making a mistake. It will happen. You just need to own it as a church leader.

Dear Pastor,

I love you. I want nothing more than for you to be all who God wants you to be. So this might hurt a little.

I’m writing you this letter because I have noticed a few things that we have fallen into saying or doing that don’t represent Christ well.

With all due respect, please stop:

1. STOP PRETENDING YOU ARE PERFECT.

Jesus is perfect. You aren’t. Let us see your humanity.

Share your mistakes with us. It gives us hope to know that even the pastor doesn’t always get it right. It also gives us the courage to be honest about our faults too.

2. STOP EMOTIONALLY AND SPIRITUALLY ABUSING YOUR STAFF.

Although some elements of the church are like a business, church staff should not be treated just like employees. They are family. They aren’t perfect, but you need to love them anyway.

When you hurt them, you hurt God’s family. I know far too many pastors who need therapy after the wounds of working for a bad boss.

3. STOP HIDING YOUR SECRET ADDICTION.

When we find out (not if, but when), it will ruin your ministry, devastate your family and place another black mark on the church.

Don’t be another example that people point to when they call Christians a bunch of hypocrites. Get help now.

4. STOP SKIPPING YOUR TIME WITH GOD.

Lack of time with God is the quickest way for you to dry up spiritually. Your responsibility as a pastor is first and foremost to have a strong personal relationship with God.

Prayer and Bible reading are not a waste of time. It’s the most productive thing you will do all day.

5. STOP TALKING ABOUT YOUR “SMOKING HOT WIFE.”

It’s great that you love your wife. But talk about how beautiful she is on the inside too. Praise her godly character.

I don’t want my daughter growing up hearing you imply that attractiveness is all that matters in a woman. She gets too much of that from the rest of the world already.

6. STOP THINKING YOU ARE THE REASON FOR YOUR CHURCH’S SUCCESS.

Check your ego. Good pastors rightfully give God the glory for the fruit of ministry. It’s all because of Him.

You are just a tool in God’s mighty hand.

I prefer to be a macromanager. I like to lead leaders. This means I try to cast the vision for a team and get out of the way, releasing each team member to do his or her work in their own individual way.

There are times, however, where more micromanagement may be needed by senior leadership. More coaching, encouraging or correction may be needed for a season.

Here are five times to consider some micromanagement:

When a team member is new to the organization.

They need to learn your culture and way of doing things. They don’t know. This doesn’t mean you don’t allow them to invent, dream and discover, but they also need to know how decisions are made, the unwritten rules and the internal workings of the environment. It will serve everyone well and they’ll last longer on the team if these are learned early in their tenure.

When a team or team leader has been severely crippled by injury or stress.

I’ve had a few times where a member of our team just wasn’t mentally or emotionally capable of making the right decisions. It could be what they were dealing with in their personal life or with the stress of their work, but I had to step in and help them more than I normally would for a season to help them succeed.

When in a state of uncertainty, transition or change.

I once had a strong leader quit abruptly from his position. His team was devastated. I quickly realized they had relied too much on his leadership and were now lost without him. It required more of my time initially until we could raise up new leadership and better empower everyone on the team.

When tackling a new objective, critical to the organization.

This is especially true when, as the senior leader, I’m the architect of the idea. They need more of my time to make sure things are going the way I envisioned them to go. That doesn’t mean the outcome will look exactly like I planned, but in the initial start, the team can waste time and resources trying to figure me out without my input, rather than doing productive work.

When a team member is underperforming in relation to others.

As a leader, I feel it is part of my role to help people perform at their highest level possible. Sometimes this requires coaching, sometimes instruction and sometimes even discipline. Part of being a leader is recognizing potential in people and helping them realize that potential within the organization. For a season, to help someone get on track for success on our team (or even to discover they aren’t a fit for our team), I have to manage closer than I normally prefer.

I obviously wrote this in the context of an organization and not specific to the church, but these principles equally apply in the church. The important thing is that the end goals and objectives need to be reached, so at certain critical times a leader must step in and ensure the vision is being accomplished.