Haddon Robinson

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Podcast: When is preaching a 'news' story? Ah, the temptation of ChatGPT sermons

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Podcast: When is preaching a 'news' story? Ah, the temptation of ChatGPT sermons

When is preaching newsworthy?

News consumers of a certain age may remember this famous Associated Press headline: “Priest Told Children That Santa Claus Is Dead.”

More recently, a Catholic priest in County Kerry made headlines around the world when he dared to preach a sermon defending centuries of Catholic teachings on abortion, marriage and sex — while reminding the faithful that the concept of “mortal sin” is serious business. His bishop was not amused.

Thus, controversial sermons are news, in part because editors don’t expects sermons to be controversial?

The act of preaching can also become “newsy” when it is linked to a trendy subject in modern life. That’s the equation: Old thing (preaching) gets hitched to hip new thing.

Right now, one of the hot topics in the public square is the rise of artificial intelligence and, to be specific, the ChatGPT website. Thus, this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in) focused on several “newsy” angles of the recent Associated Press story that ran with the headline, “Pastors’ view: Sermons written by ChatGPT will have no soul.”

In a way, this whole AI preaching topic is linked to another “preaching that is news” trend that shows up every now and then — plagiarism in the pulpit. Overworked, stressed-out pastors have been known to cut a few corners and use material from other preachers, without letting the faithful know what they were doing. But that’s actually a very old story. See this On Religion column that starts with a case study from 1876.

During the podcast, I riffed on the whole issue that different kinds of technology can shape the content of communications in different ways. If ChatGPT sermons have a sense of “soul,” it would be a “soul” that is defined by the creator of the software and the tech platform.

This made me think back the early 1990s, when I was teaching at Denver Seminary and asking future pastors to think about the many ways that mass-media messages shape the lives of their flocks and, of course, the unchurched people around them (here is an essay on that seminary work).

During that time, I read an article — on paper, alas — about how the creation of studio microphones changed the content of American popular music, even at the level of lyrics in love songs.

Think about Frank Sinatra. As a young big-band singer, he belted out bold, strong, LOUD songs about commitment and romantic love that would never die. He had to be heard over that big band. But give Sinatra a microphone and, well, these songs turned into smooth, soft, seductive messages — urgent whispers of desire.

I wondered: How did microphones affect the style and theological content of preaching?


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New podcast: When preachers copy preachers -- is this an old story or something new?

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New podcast: When preachers copy preachers -- is this an old story or something new?

As longtime GetReligion readers may know, my father was a Southern Baptist minister, spending his whole career in Texas pulpits and hospitals.

I heard him, from time to time, gently correct people who called him “preacher.” He would note that he wasn’t a “preacher,” he was a pastor. Brother Bert’s life and ministry were not defined by his pulpit work, although I always admired his ability to teach the Bible to laypeople.

Like it or not, preaching is the crucial skill — almost a Darwinian performance art — in the world of megachurches and evangelical power. Superstar clergy, about 99% of the time, are known for their preaching skills, even in liturgical-church traditions. The styles may differ, from one church brand to another, but growing churches usually have orators who can pull people into the pews.

That was the subject looming over this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), which focused on a strong Religion News Service report about the #Sermongate controversy surrounding the new leader of the Southern Baptist Convention. The headline: “New SBC President Ed Litton apologizes for using JD Greear sermon quotes without credit.” Here is some crucial material right up top:

A video posted on YouTube Thursday (June 24) showed clips of a ­­­January 2020 sermon on the New Testament book of Romans from Litton and clips from a January 2019 sermon on the same Bible passage from J.D. Greear, whose term as SBC president ended in June.

At several points, the comments from the two preachers are nearly identical. … The two pastors also say very similar things about homosexuality, which both believe is sinful.

But they each say Christians have erred by treating sexual sin as if it is worse than other sins — and singling out LGBT people as the worst of sinners.

What does “nearly identical” look like?


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The big idea: Black and white preachers, together, need to sound prophetic note on race

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The big idea: Black and white preachers, together, need to sound prophetic note on race

In times of turmoil, brutality, fire and rage, black preachers have always turned to the Old Testament prophets.

Hear Jeremiah addressing the king and his court: "Thus says the Lord: Act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan and the widow, or shed innocent blood. … (If) you will not heed these words, I swear by myself, says the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation."

There's plenty more where that came from. No one is shocked when black pastors take biblical texts about sin, justice, repentance and mercy and weave them into images and headlines from the news, said the Rev. Terriel Byrd, urban ministry professor at Palm Beach Atlantic University. This is a crucial role they have always played in their communities and as bridgebuilders to others.

"Even when they know that what they're going to say will be rejected, they dare to speak as prophets," he said. "They aren't afraid to preach what they need to preach. If you go to church during times like these, you know a black preacher will not be silent."

After decades of studying the art of preaching -- he is the former president of the African American Caucus of the Academy of Homiletics -- Byrd knows that traditions are different in white sanctuaries. But he is convinced America needs to hear from all kinds of preachers after the killing of George Floyd, his neck under the knee of a white Minneapolis police officer.

On the streets, some white police are kneeling -- this is powerful symbolism on many levels -- with protestors in prayer. Unity across racial lines in churches will be just as important.

Black church leaders will be on the scene during peaceful protests. When it's time to heal and clean up, all kinds of religious believers will take part -- black, white, whatever. But will they be able to speak together?

"It's crucial for white-church leaders to step forward and take a leadership role at this moment," said Byrd, reached by telephone. "If we have some true partnerships form, with a real sense of honesty and equality, we could see a way forward and make real progress fighting this injustice."

This is not, of course, the first time that clergy have faced this challenge.


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When covering riots and flames, it's wise to seek veteran voices from black churches

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It was impossible to continue business as usual in a seminary classroom in the spring of 1992, as flames and violence spread through parts of Los Angeles.

This was especially true while team-teaching a seminar blending studies of the Old Testament prophets with moral and spiritual signals drawn from contemporary news and entertainment media. In this particular seminar at Denver Seminary, half of the future pastors were black and half were white.

Old Testament prophets? Hear a few words from Jeremiah 22:

Hear the word of the Lord, O King of Judah sitting on the throne of David — you, and your servants, and your people who enter these gates. Thus says the Lord: Act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place. … (If) you will not heed these words, I swear by myself, says the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation.

Our leader, the late Haddon Robinson — one of the greatest homiletics professors ever — approved the following assignment, as we approached the first Sunday during the riots. We asked each white student to contact a black pastor, seeking insights into the sermon preached that Sunday. We asked black students to contact white pastors with the same goal.

I thought of that assignment while reading waves of news coverage of the protests and riots — note that the distinction — after the death of George Floyd, his neck under a white Minneapolis police officer’s knee. I also remembered that seminar in 2015, standing in my front yard watching smoke and flames in the night sky over Baltimore.

It’s impossible to do justice to the many religious themes and images in the events — peaceful and violent — linked to Floyd’s death, from the many protestors kneeling in prayer (sometimes with police) to rioters painting obscene curses on historic sanctuaries.

But we can see one constant that journalists should remember under these circumstances: The voices of the black church will be there — somewhere — and if you seek them out, you will find words, images and ideas that are crucial to those building coalitions seeking justice and change. And when it’s time to heal and clean up, look for religious folks of all kinds — black, white, whatever. They will be there, day after day.


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Podcast: Why reporters (and clergy) should heed religious signals in pop culture

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Readers who have followed GetReligion for quite a few years may remember that, in 1991, I left full-time work at The Rocky Mountain News (RIP) to teach as “Communicator on Culture” at Denver Seminary. Basically, I was teaching classes about religious content and trends in mainstream news coverage and popular culture, providing material for apologetics.

In the summer of 1993, when I moved to Milligan College in East Tennessee, I spoke at a national conference for Episcopal church leaders and laypeople, delivering a lecture entitled: “And Now, a Word from Your Culture — Mass Media, Ministry and Tuning in New Signals.” The respondent to my paper, by the way, was Father N.T. Wright, a big-league British intellectual who was beginning to gain some fame in North America. Here is the opening of that lecture:

True or false: It is impossible to talk — in terms of practical details and statistics — about how modern Americans live their lives without addressing the role played by television and other forms of news and entertainment media.

True or false: Most churches have little or nothing practical to say about the role that television and other forms of news and entertainment media play in the daily lives of most modern Americans.

True or false: Most churches have little or nothing practical to say about the daily lives of most modern Americans.

True or false: This applies to my church.

Now, this era of my life surfaced in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), because of two recent posts here at GetReligion. They were, “Old Pete Townshend asks some big questions about rock and what happens after he dies” and “Washington Post offers look at five country music myths and misses a familiar ghost.”

The big idea in the podcast: Every now and then popular culture sends out “signals” addressing subjects on topics that religious leaders simply cannot ignore.


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