I don’t like preaching from the pulpit.
And by pulpit, I mean the one that most churches have that are large and bulky and sort of covers all your sides, but your butt.
The only good thing that I, personally, could think of preaching from the pulpit is that it is pretty sturdy and probably can protect me somewhat from an angry congregation who was not particularly happy with what the word of God was for them on that Sunday. I figure, if I duck, the pulpit will be sturdy enough to protect me from flying shoes.
I can’t help but feel a bit… trapped when I’m in the pulpit. Maybe it’s an overreaction of my ridiculous brain and the claustrophobia that I think I made myself believe I have. But I feel like I can’t move.
I’m also feeling that this ordination process and the BOOM is looking for certain pastors that fit in a certain mold and have been vocal about not wanting to be put in this box. Maybe it’s another irrational fear that I may have. But being in the pulpit is the closest literal thing of being put into a box I can get.
While the pulpit may offer somewhat protection from wayward shoes, it also separates me from the congregation. I’m behind this big bulky thing, and the intimate connection in telling God’s story and weaving of our own seems to be missing. “I’m up here behind this official pulpit and you just sit there and listen.” There’s a disconnect for me.
I’m not saying we should all forgo the use of the pulpit. I like when (some) preachers preach from the pulpit. But it’s just not for me. To each his 0r her own, I guess, right?
As long as God’ words are being preached faithfully, it doesn’t really matter, right?