Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Scott M. Gibson is the Haddon Robinson Professor of Preaching and Director of the ThM. Program in Preaching at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. He is the cofounder of the Evangelical Homiletics Society. He has served as a pastor and is one of the founders of Cornerstone Church Network. He is a graduate of Pennsylvania State University, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, Princeton Theological Seminary, Knox College University of Toronto, and the University of Oxford (Dphil) Among his many books are Preaching to a Shifting Culture, Preaching for Special Services, and Planning Your Preaching. Dr. Gibson and his wife Rhonda live in Beverly, Massachusetts.

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With easy access to sermons on the Internet, plus pressure to deliver the next sermon with little time to prepare, no wonder some pastors have resorted to plagiarizing other people's sermons, passing them off as their own.

This growing epidemic has received coverage in the Wall Street Journal, on National Public Radio, and elsewhere. Some pastors have been caught in the act and dismissed from their churches. Is this fair? Is this stealing? How can you recognize it? How can it be prevented?

This book not only helps explain the problem, but it also explores the ethical implications and gives advice on how to avoid it or deal with it if the problem surfaces in your church. It includes study questions at the end of chapters and a concluding case study.

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Should We Use Someone Else's Sermon?

Zondervan

Contents

Acknowledgments......................................................................91 Scenes of Sermon Stealing..........................................................132 The Long Legacy of Sermon Stealing.................................................213 Give Me a Definition, Please!......................................................394 Integrity in Plagiarism and Preaching..............................................535 Preaching in a Cut-and-Paste World.................................................73Afterword: Kidnapping Words..........................................................91Appendix: A Case Study: Whose Sermon Is It? by John V. Tornfelt.....................95Notes................................................................................105

Chapter One

If it happens that a preacher weaves among his own words a proportion of other men's flowers, he falls into worse disgrace than a common thief. -John Chrysostom

SCENE ONE: FLAP IN FELLOWSHIP HALL

The first time I faced the ugliness of plagiarism was when I was sixteen years old. It was the days of the Jesus Movement, and as a new Christian I was involved in every Bible study or any other kind of study. One of the studies I participated in was a reading group consisting of men and women of all ages. We met weekly, reading through popular Christian books. We read a chapter or two for each week's meeting and discussed it.

While at worship one Sunday morning at my home church, the preacher talked in his sermon about an incident that happened to him that week. He described a scene that took place in the middle of the night as he tended to his little girls. The setting, the words, the mood - everything - came from the book our group was reading.

As the congregation filtered out of the building, one of the leaders of the group - Don, a middle-aged man - confronted the pastor while he was shaking hands at the door. "You used a story from Keith Miller, didn't you?" he queried. He challenged him a little more. The pastor was shaken. He mumbled and fumbled, but the accusations did not move any further - until later that afternoon.

I was home when the telephone rang. My mother called me to the phone.

"It's Mr. Cunningham," she said. I knew Mr. Cunningham. He was the head deacon, a retired farmer who had given his life to the church. Mr. Cunningham was always kind to me. He knew I didn't come from a Christian home and was happy that I had become part of the church.

"Hello," I said.

"Hello, Scott, this is Mitchell Cunningham." His voice seemed formal, business like. "The reason why I'm calling is that you're to come to a deacon's meeting next Sunday afternoon. We want to talk with you about the accusations your reading group has against the pastor." My heart sank. I began to tremble. I really didn't know what to think. But, as a young, nave high school kid, I agreed to be at the meeting.

The next week, the entire reading group assembled in the Fellowship Hall, along with the deacons and deaconesses. A long series of tables stretched the length of the hall to fit us all around the table - to resemble fellowship, I guess. I knew something important and strangely odd was happening, but, to my young mind, I really didn't fully comprehend it.

Mr. Cunningham called the meeting to order and led in prayer. He began by stating that the meeting was called because our reading group had accused the pastor of plagiarizing.

"Your group is causing all kinds of problems in this church," piped one of the deaconesses.

"Leave the pastor alone!" shouted another.

"What is happening?" I thought. The meeting deteriorated into a cesspool of accusations. Tempers flared. But the issue of what the pastor actually did - or did not do - was never addressed. The problem became ours, not his. I knew then what was happening: we were on the edge of being kicked out of the church.

However the matter was handled or mishandled, I am pained every time I recall the incident. I am hurt that my reading group was so easily indicted. I am distressed that the pastor appeared to have gotten off so simply. I am concerned that the pastor seemed to use another's material as if it were his own and didn't even try to clear up the matter for us - and the deacon board. Mind you, I was not raised in a Christian home. I was a sixteen-year-old kid who knew very little about church and the Bible, but I did know that something was not right. Yet with the way I was treated as a new Christian, I could have walked away from church forever. I could have pitched the faith. But I didn't. I guess I knew that we're all sinners - me too - and we're all in need of grace. And God's grace had ahold of me.

At that meeting and in that church I observed the power of plagiarism. The confusion and potential catastrophe just one little misrepresentation makes has long-lasting consequences. Not until years later did I meet again the ugliness of plagiarism and observed once more the poison it produces in a church and in the soul.

SCENE TWO: CONFRONTATION ON A COLD NEW ENGLAND NIGHT

Plagiarism is stealing someone else's words or thoughts and claiming them as your own. The Latin root - plagiarius - means kidnapper. The thief called plagiarism has been around a long time. He hides in the computer keyboards of novelists. He creeps into student dorm rooms. He can be found on the front page of any newspaper. He ruins science projects and causes havoc in the classroom. He can be found tempting theologians, and he often trips up preachers.

You may even have encountered this thief yourself. Maybe you have colluded with him in some clandestine thievery, or you have been tempted to follow his lead down the path of least resistance. He is tricky and wily. And, as I told you, I have met him myself. He has a long history, and not everyone agrees on what he looks like.

I assure you, I have seen him. I have smelled him. I have seen his victims up close. And I have been tempted myself, and I live to tell it. At this point, I am all grown-up and my second encounter with plagiarism took place on a cold winter evening. Winter evenings in New England are particularly unpleasant. The night is dark, the air is wet, and all one feels is cold.

The telephone rang, and on the other end was the head deacon, Rob, who told me there was an important meeting at the church to which I was summoned. I had been a deacon at our church for the previous three years. I kissed my wife good-bye and told her that I was sure the meeting would not last long. I was wrong, for I came to discover that our pastor was a kidnapper. No, he was not in jail, but he was a prisoner of his own devices. He had plagiarized the entire series he was preaching. And he got caught. The evening got even colder.

The deacons sat around the pastor's study uncomfortably hearing the charges brought by the one who discovered the plagiarism. His words were gentle and firm, yet piercing. The pastor tearfully confessed his misdeed. We deacons were numb. It was not that we could not imagine that the pastor had plagiarized, but it was something we simply never expected. I felt like I did when I was at the deacons' meeting...