Backtalk from the Pew

At the noon Mass in the nursingschool dormitory of Boston College one Sunday this month, Father F. X. Shea let it be known that the subject of the sermon was pain. But instead of delivering a homily, he challenged his congregation of 27 students to explain what pain meant to them. "There's a lot to be gained in suffering, and a nurse can help a patient learn that," said one girl. "But does the God you believe in have a vested interest in pain, to make people grow by insights through pain?" challenged the priest. "We make most of the pain ourselves," another girl volunteered. The dialogue continued for 15 minutes.

Traditionally, members of a congregation are a captive audience who can either doze off or walk out, but cannot talk back. Today, more and more U.S. clergymen are letting the people in the pew talk back by experimenting with "dialogue sermons" as an alternative to the pulpit monologue. One reason for this communal approach to the exposition of God's word is that today's educated congregations are unwilling to put up with authoritarian preaching that lacks the stamp of credibility. Advocates of the dialogue sermon point out that since industry, government and education have discovered the virtue of the seminar and the conference, the church should also explore this avenue of intellectual discovery. According to Dr. Robert Luccock, professor of homiletics at Boston University, the intro duction of dialogue in worship means that "we are beginning to take seriously the idea that every Christian is in a true sense a minister."

Blowing Their Minds. The dialogue sermon has won wide popularity on campuses where, says Notre Dame's Father James Burtchaell, it is "very relevant to the whole university atmosphere of questioning." Father Burtchaell, who conducts experimental weeknight Masses in a dormitory chapel, has all but abandoned the tradition al sermon. Instead, he begins by commenting on a theme for five minutes, then opens up the floor for discussion.

At Woodland Hills Methodist Church near Los Angeles, the Rev. William E. Steel has held dialogue sermons once a month for two years. Most of his congregation likes the idea, although newcomers are shocked by the easy give-and-take of discussions. At his Episcopal church in Ignacio, Calif., Vicar Charles Gompertz occasionally stirs up dialogue by stationing a "plant" in the congregation. During a sermon, the plant may stand up and yell: "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" Says Gompertz: "It really blows their minds."