One aspect of the church's life that we ought to consider in connection with suffering is that the Lord uses faithful preaching to shape the hearts and minds of his people as they sit under that preaching Sunday after Sunday.

When I found out in April 1999 that I had cancer, I had been a member of New Hope Presbyterian Church for nearly six years. Week in and week out, the pastor of the congregation, Dave Coffin, steadily and faithfully proclaimed God's Word from the pulpit.

Over and over again he taught us from the Scriptures concerning the com­prehensive sovereignty and precious promises of God. In different ways and in different words he trained us concern­ing trials, reminding us that everything that comes to pass God brings to pass for His own glory and for the good of His people, encouraging us with the thought that no trial finally overthrows the gospel, for even death itself — the last trial — becomes the Christian's entrance into glory. Week after week he taught us.

And it was not just the sermons. It was also the congregational sermon dis­cussions that he would lead after wor­ship. It was also the after-dinner conver­sations in his living room in which I would pester him with too many ques­tions about the Bible and theology, and he would patiently seek to answer each one. Plus the discussions over the phone. Plus the conversations in the car. Nearly six years of sermons and discussions, questions and answers, correction and encouragement. Week after week.

What neither of us realised was that during that whole time Dave was prepar­ing me for the day when I would find out that I had cancer.

Of course, no one knew what my days would bring. No one knew in 1993 what I would learn on April 23, 1999. Dave did not know. I did not know. But looking back I can see now that the Lord was using Dave's steady, faithful, truth-full ministry all that time to fill my heart and mind with the very gospel realities that would hold me up when the MRI pictures went up on the screen.

There is an important lesson here for every Christian, since we are all sermon hearers. In short, we ought to see our relationship to preaching as a lifelong relationship. To be sure, it is good to con­sider each Sunday how the truth we have heard that day should shape our lives right away, but there is more to it than that. Each of us also ought to be storing up a deep reservoir of biblical convic­tions over the course of his life. Those convictions may pay off down the road in ways that you never anticipated.

The Christian life is, among other things, from start to finish, a life of hearing sermons, and it is vital that we hold on to the truth we have heard. Who knows what the circumstances will be in which you will have to bring forth the fruit of the things you have stored away?

This is one of the reasons and there are so many others why the young people of the congregation, begin­ning at a reasonable age, ought to be pre­sent and attentive during the sermon. They ought to be there, listening and learning as best they can, even if the sub­ject of the sermon might appear, at first glance, to have nothing to do with them at their age. First, that appearance is misleading. Second, children are never too young to be storing up God's truth in their hearts. Maybe when he is 28 — or younger — he will find out that he has cancer. That is not the time to start thinking about the goodness, wisdom and power of God. Far better for him to have those truths already deeply rooted in his soul.

There is an important lesson here for preachers, too. Do not get caught in the trap of thinking that your fruitfulness in ministry is limited to the impact your sermon has on the day you preach it.

But the notion that a sermon is only as effective as the impression it makes in the moment can lead a man to try to preach sermons that are too clever, too tricky, too impressive. He succumbs to the temptation to try and he tries this, wearily, each and every week — to pull a rabbit out of the hat as he expounds the text of Scripture. And then, as if he had just performed on some sort of reality TV show (American Preacher Idol, perhaps?), he waits for members of the congregation to approach him after the worship service and give him his marks. Praise thrills him, which leads him to conclude, "I've been fruitful in ministry". Criticism dev­astates him, which leads him to resolve, "I've failed. I'll just have to work that much harder next week".

The minister's job is also to get the people ready for where they will be. No, he cannot know precisely where their roads will take them, but he does know that the truths of Scripture are crucial to prepare them for every circumstance. So let him serve up a steady diet of those truths.

Just think of it: the faithful preacher helps to foster spiritual emergency pre­paredness! Years ago I learned that les­son as a cancer patient, and I pray that I will never forget it now that I have become a preacher.