I know it is a convention — at least in Unitarian Universalist circles — for preachers to end a sermon with amen and sometimes other codas, like blessed be or shanti. This is about amen, if not the others. Stop it. Stop it now. Carl Scovel (boy, I wish he blogged!) broke me of the habit and I thank him for it.

Amen is the word of the people: a liturgical affirmation of what has been said. I imagine the practice is devolution of the prompt, “And let the people say, ‘Amen’.” (Which the people can decline!)

You wouldn’t end a sermon “and we agree with you” so don’t end your sermon (or newsletter column, blog post or what have you) with amen.

If Google Docs can help me loose weight, why not Wikipedia for preaching? (Not that I’m preaching much these days.)

Not for fact-checking (though I find a well-cited article is helpful for follow-up reading) but for style. Wikipedia has a house style that helps improve reading and factual quality while smoothing out writer idiosyncrasies. While I would hate all preaching to sound alike — and that’s the limit of a common style — there are enough preachers out there (novices, the rusty, the undisciplined, the harried) who could benefit from dispassionate rules and I know there are a few congregations that would approve!

A good number Unitarian Universalist preachers I’ve known have a special set of bad habits, including making broad, unsupported claims. (A breathy, faux-spiritual delivery is another: good style can’t help everything.) Reading and abiding Wikipedia’s counsel against peacock terms and weasel words could well right help.

The full list of style articles (Wikipedia)

Hubby and I visited a church for the first time this morning and witnessed something — a small thing, I admit — that we didn’t think looked right.

The minister and his liturgical assistants — four in total — drank water out of bottles, including one who drank water out of a bicyclist’s squeeze bottle. This looks bad. There’s no way to effectively drink from a bottle without bunching up your face into a pucker, which you might not notice on the street or office but is unavoidable when you’re in the pew and looking towards “the action.” It’s facial gesture you associate with a suckling babe or an unpleasant or tart taste. Because one normally doesn’t up-end a bottle in the pulpit, the drinking gesture is more akin to a nip from a hip flask. You don’t associate it with control, serenity or good production values.

A glass is better, and clear glass is less conspicuous. A bedside glass with matching pitcher or carafe seems like a good option. Or perhaps a travel mug without a handle, if tipping is a concern. I wouldn’t blanch at a clear wide-mouthed Nalgene bottle, if the congregation was reasonably sporty (or else if might look like you’re drinking from a canning jar, which itself might be appropriate in Muncie, Indiana, birthplace of the Ball jar.) [Later. See the comments for a cautionary tale about the Nalgene bottle.]

Oh, and don’t duck behind the pulpit and try to drink upside down. You’re not trying to cure hiccups. It takes longer and is more distracting than pulling the glass up to your mouth and drinking. Yes, I’ve seen you. Stop it.