It wasn’t déjà vu. The reason the sermon sounded entirely familiar was because it was. The minister lifted the majority of his sermon from a commentary. He spoke the words as if they were his own. He didn’t introduce the source from which he attained the information nor did he remotely hint that these weren’t his ideas. All of the illustrations and the majority of his points were word-for-word from someone else. Is this dishonest?

Theologically you know it can’t happen; experientially you might think otherwise. You’ve seen that person; you’ve been to that place; you’ve heard those words. Yet no matter how much you walk the corridors of your mind, you can’t quite figure out how you know these things.  It’s déjà vu—“the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time.”      

Perhaps it’s the familiarity of a given situation that makes you think you’ve already encountered it, or perhaps not. Either way, the experience itself is puzzling (at least for some). Websites are dedicated to those interested in telling their stories and movies are produced about it (Déjà Vu released in 2006), while others view it as a paranormal religious event. The latter is clearly the most striking and contra biblical doctrine. Déjà vu, as a religious paranormal event, isn’t found anywhere in the creeds, confessions, and catechisms of the church. Jesus didn’t foster the so-called Sermon on the Mount with excerpts about déjà vu. The apostle Paul didn’t highlight it as a religious experience when preaching the gospel to those at Areopagus.  Nevertheless, despite such absenteeism, I’ve experienced a déjà vu of sorts. Allow me to explain.

Throughout the week, I listen to sermons from various Presbyterian and Reformed churches. It’s a joy to hear the word of God preached by different ministers with varying styles. For many, the 3-point sermon is the standard. Others aren’t so tightly tied to it. Some have more of a didactic approach as they explain the scriptures using a grammatical historical paradigm and keep “application” until last. Others, while they preach the passage in context, seek to apply the scripture throughout the entire sermon. There is nothing new under the sun. These paradigms have been utilized for quite some time. But on one occasion I heard something new, or so I thought. It had nothing to do with the sermon outline, where the application was placed, or how Christ was preached. It was the “words” that were used that appeared so striking.

As I was listening to a minister from the northeast preach on a section of James, I found myself thinking, “I’ve heard this before,” but the puzzling thing was that I had never listened to a sermon from this minister. His points were consistent with the passage. His illustrations were engaging. Though listening to the sermon via the internet, I wouldn’t dare press the pause button. I wanted to hear everything that this minister had to say.

Although this was how I felt, I still couldn’t help thinking, “I’ve heard this before.” Was this a déjà vu of sorts? Was I having a paranormal religious event, one that I would soon find myself describing on websites dedicated to such events? Did I miss something in the Bible that explained this occurrence? Where had I heard these words?

It wasn’t déjà vu. The reason the sermon sounded entirely familiar was because it was. The minister lifted the majority of his sermon from a commentary. He spoke the words as if they were his own. He didn’t introduce the source from which he attained the information nor did he remotely hint that these weren’t his ideas. All of the illustrations and the majority of his points were word-for-word from someone else. Is this dishonest? Any student knows that he must give credit where credit is due. In fact, many universities and seminaries make students sign a plagiarism agreement. Does the same apply in the pulpit?

Of course the aforementioned event is an extreme case (although I have heard of people lifting entire sermons from Rev. Tim Keller and Rev. John MacArthur). Nonetheless, as I’ve had time to reflect upon this, several questions come to mind. I wonder if ministers have become overly dependent upon commentaries? More and more sermons are filled with quotations from various scholars who have written commentaries. In fact I’ve noticed a trend that once you realize a minister’s favorite commentary on a particular book, his sermon often follows the exact outline of that commentary. Even the illustrations and application come from the commentary. What of originality? I’ll never forget what the Reverend Dr. Hywel Jones said to me when asked, “Why don’t you quote people from the pulpit?” He responded, “I have enough to say on my own.”

Please don’t misunderstand me. Commentaries are beneficial. Sometimes they provide insights that we had not previously considered, but once they become a crutch upon which you find yourself continually leaning as opposed to an aid that simply provides checks and balances, perhaps you’re importing a usage into commentaries for which they were not originally intended. In other words, were commentaries meant to be transposed sermons? Are we to pick up all of our clues from our favorite commentary and primarily preach what the commentator says? Or should we wrestle with the scripture until the Spirit moves us that we have a proper interpretation even before reading a commentary?

If you see this as a problem, I wonder if there is a remedy? I don’t propose to have all the answers, but I wonder if some have lost confidence in their exegetical skills. Perhaps some ministers think their understanding of the biblical languages is insufficient (or course we’re always learning in this area, myself included). Perhaps some simply don’t want to say something someone else hasn’t said. Maybe some ministers are so busy with counseling, home visitations, and administration, that they don’t have time to soak themselves in the languages and wrestle with the meaning of the text. In these situations, it becomes easy to rely upon a time-tested commentary.

Whatever the case, perhaps some of us should rethink the way we study the scriptures. When preparing to preach through a book or a singular passage, perhaps our first thought should be, “I need to resort to prayer requesting God’s help.” And maybe our second thought should be, “What does the Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek tell me about this passage?” as opposed to our first thought being, “What are the best commentaries?”

The riches of God’s word are manifold. Though we study for years, there is still so much we have to learn. God’s grace has been shed aboard in our hearts and though, in and of ourselves, we are not worthy to preach God’s word, he has equipped us in Christ and by the power of his Spirit. Moreover, our seminary training is a great help! It seems, at least in the reformed tradition, we have reason to be confident in our personal exegesis. I’m not saying go into a closet all by yourself, but trust that the Spirit will lead you and that what you have learned in seminary (and beyond) will resurface, lest the commentaries become our sole guide to understanding the scriptures and our sermons are just another case of déjà vu all over again.

Leon Brown is a minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and currently serves as Assistant Pastor at New City Fellowship in Fredericksburg, VA.  He holds MDiv and MA degrees from WTS California and is presently pursuing doctoral studies in OT and the Ancient Near East.