5 Tips for Delivering a Sermon (Basic Homiletics)

Tip #1: Know Your Text Better Than You Know Your Outline

The young pastor had a problem many of us face when we’re starting out: he was married to his manuscript. I watched him practice, and every time he lost his place on the page, he lost his confidence. His eyes would dart down, panic would flash across his face, and the connection with his imaginary congregation evaporated.

“Tell me,” I said, “what’s happening in this passage?” And he could. Brilliantly. He knew the context, the original language, the theological implications. But he couldn’t look up from his notes long enough to let that knowledge breathe.

Here’s what I’ve learned: you need to live with your text all week. Not just study it on Monday and write your sermon on Thursday—I mean really live with it. Take it with you when you’re walking the dog. Think about it when you’re in the shower. Let it interrupt your other thoughts. By Sunday morning, that passage should feel like an old friend, not a script you’re trying to memorize.

When you know your text that deeply, your outline becomes less of a crutch and more of a guide. You can glance at your notes and know exactly where you’re headed next, but you’re not reading to the people—you’re speaking with them. There’s a world of difference.

Tip #2: Preach to Real People, Not to Abstract Theology

Seminary trains us to think in abstractions. Justification. Sanctification. Eschatological implications. All important, all true. But on Sunday morning, you’re looking at Jim who just lost his job, Maria who’s caring for her mother with dementia, and teenagers who are trying to figure out if any of this matters to their actual lives.

“Who’s in your congregation?” I asked him. He started listing demographics. I stopped him. “No, who are they? What are they facing this week? What keeps them up at night?”

This is what mentors told me years ago, and it revolutionized my preaching: before you write a single word, picture three specific people in your congregation. Name them in your mind. As you prepare your sermon, keep asking yourself: how does this truth meet that single mother on Tuesday morning? How does this passage speak to that businessman making ethical compromises? How does this comfort that widow in the third pew?

Don’t dumb down the theology—people are smarter than we give them credit for. But translate it. Connect it. Make theology tangible. The incarnation means God makes theology tangible, so our preaching should too.

Tip #3: Master the Pause

The young pastor talked fast. It’s a common problem for new preachers—we’re nervous, we have so much to say, we want to make sure we hit all our points. So we rush. We fill every silence with words.

But here’s what I’ve learned from years in the pulpit: silence is not your enemy. It’s your ally.

When you make a crucial point, stop. Let it land. Give people time to think about what you just said before you move to the next thing. Some of my most powerful moments in preaching have been when I simply stopped talking for five or six seconds. It feels like an eternity up there, but from the congregation’s perspective, it’s exactly what they need.

Think about Jesus. “Let the one who has ears to hear, hear.” And then what did he do? He moved on to the next town, letting those words do their work. We need to trust that the Holy Spirit can work in the silence.

I told him to practice this. Pick three moments in your sermon—usually after your main points—and force yourself to pause. Count to five in your head. Look at the people. Take a breath. Then continue. It will feel awkward at first. Do it anyway. Your preaching will become more powerful, more memorable, and frankly, more bearable for your congregation.

Tip #4: Tell Stories, But Tell Them Well

Every preaching book will tell you to use stories. And they’re right—Jesus taught in parables, after all. But here’s what they don’t always tell you: bad storytelling is worse than no storytelling at all.

I’ve sat through too many sermons where the pastor launches into an illustration that has nothing to do with the point, goes on for five minutes with unnecessary details, and then awkwardly tries to tie it back to the passage. The congregation checks out. I’ve done it myself more times than I care to admit.

Here’s my rule now: every story must earn its place. Before you include an illustration, ask yourself: Does this illuminate the text, or does it distract from it? Can I tell it in under two minutes? Does it connect emotionally with what Scripture is saying, or am I just trying to get a laugh or make people cry?

The young pastor had a great story about his grandfather—moving, powerful, relevant. But he buried the point until the very end. I had him restructure it: tell us why the story matters first, then tell the story, then connect it back to the text. Beginning, middle, end. Clarity over cleverness.

And for the love of all that’s holy, don’t tell stories about your kids being adorable every single week. We get it. They’re cute. But your congregation didn’t come to hear about potty training—they came to hear the Word of the Lord.

Tip #5: End Strong, Not Long

This might be the hardest lesson for new preachers to learn: know when to stop talking.

I’ve preached sermons where I had a powerful conclusion prepared, reached it, saw people leaning in, felt the Spirit’s presence in the room… and then I kept going. I circled back. I made one more point. I added another illustration. And I watched that powerful moment dissipate like morning fog.

The young pastor had the same problem in his practice sermon. He had a beautiful ending—a clear call to action, a memorable phrase that would stick with people. And then he tacked on three more paragraphs. Why? Because he was nervous. Because he wasn’t sure if he’d said enough. Because stopping felt like giving up.

But here’s what I’ve learned: when you’ve said what needs to be said, stop. Don’t apologize. Don’t add qualifiers. Don’t circle back to restate your first point. Trust that if God’s Word is truly powerful, it doesn’t need you to over-explain it.

Your conclusion should be the most memorable part of your sermon. It should be clear, compelling, and concrete. Tell people what to do with what they’ve just heard. Give them one thing to remember, one way to respond, one place to start. And then—and this is crucial—stop talking.

I told him to write his conclusion first, before anything else. Know where you’re headed. And when you get there, have the courage to sit down.