William H. Willimon on preaching and The King’s Speech:
The King’s Speech reminded me what a high vocation it is to enable others to find their voice in service to a God who uses our weakness to bring God’s gospel to speech. I preach today as the recipient of Lionel Logue-like instruction. One spring afternoon at Yale Divinity School I confessed to my teacher, Bill Muehl, that I was self-conscious about my thick southern accent, which everyone in New Haven seemed compelled to note and ridicule. “You can make good money in Texas with that accent,” Muehl assured me.
When I told him I had no intention of preaching in Texas, Muehl said, “Pity,” and then handed me a stack of reel-to-reel tapes. “Listen to these,” was his only instruction, “they are some of the greatest preachers of our time.”
I took the tapes back to my dorm room and spent the rest of the day listening to sermons by Harry Emerson Fosdick, William Sloane Coffin and Halford Luccock. Immediately I noted that none of these great preachers possessed a great voice—all of them had odd speech quirks and vocal weaknesses. I got the point: as in the Bible, God tends to call the “wrong” people, without a surfeit of gifts, to do God’s work.
Fosdick in particular made me laugh, with his high-pitched, nasal twang. But I couldn’t stop listening. Fosdick must have had something really important to say, I thought, for why else would a guy who sounded like that be speaking in public? I thought: I may not have the best voice in the world, but it’s as good as Harry Emerson Fosdick’s! That day I became a preacher.
As Paul says, God demonstrates God’s power in our weakness. In speaking up to smooth-talking Hitler, faltering, stammering King George demonstrated a peculiar power. But for any of that to happen, God needed someone to help the king find his voice. This is the difficult and holy vocation of the teaching of preaching.
Read the rest of Willimon’s post here. Order the book The King’s Speech: How One Man Saved the British Monarchy here.