Several people have been admiring the small wooden pulpit I’ve been using on Sunday mornings while we’ve been undergoing our recent sanctuary renovations. This 
attractive lightweight lectern was designed especially for me by our own Doug Stovall. Months ago, Doug had noticed that the old white lectern I had been using on Wednesday evenings was rather cumbersome and unsteady. So he decided to build a new one as a personal gift to me. He measured it to fit my exact height specifications. He even put a brass plaque on it to identify it as mine. He presented it to me back in the summer and I’ve been using it on Wednesdays ever since. And most recently, during our platform construction, it has come in quite handy on Sunday mornings.
Doug’s pulpit is truly a work of art, an exquisite piece of fine craftsmanship. He made it from the wood of an old walnut tree. Surprisingly, while he was working with that wood, he came across an old stray bullet fired from a Civil War-era rifle. The bullet had been lodged in the tree trunk for more than a hundred years. So my new pulpit comes from historic old wood baptized in the fire of battle!
Our larger, more formal sanctuary pulpit is getting a breather right now. It probably will be back in its familiar place soon. By
the way, it also has a brass plaque on it. Right on its face, where the speaker alone can read it, it says: “Sir, we would see Jesus” (John 12:21). That simple but profound request was made two thousand years ago by a group of God-fearing Greeks seeking to meet the Messiah. For centuries, that same verse has appeared on numerous pulpits as a reminder to the preacher to always lift up Jesus when he speaks.
Pulpits historically have come in all shapes and sizes. Some are so massive they look like a barricade protecting the preacher against
a possible assault. Others are so lofty one wonders if the pastor needs an oxygen mask because of the thinness of air at that high altitude. Some modern pulpits are made of clear Plexiglas that you can see through. Some contemporary churches don’t have pulpits at all.
Twenty some years ago, I preached at an associational meeting at West Main Baptist Church in Danville. The church had this high pulpit that the speaker literally had to climb up into.
Several people spoke from it over the course of the two-day meeting. Some had difficulty with it, however, feeling awkwardly constrained by it or appearing too large for it. There was a new pastor in town that hailed from Texas. As he rose to speak, he commented that the pulpit made him feel like he was caught in a cattle chute at a rodeo. Then he let out a good ole Lone Star yelp, “Yee-haw!” The crowd roared. That’s really the only thing I remember from his whole sermon. Later, someone said to me, “You’re the only preacher that looked like you fit in that pulpit.” Then, it dawned on me that the pulpit had been specifically designed, no doubt, for the church’s longtime (but by then retired) pastor, Dr. Howard Lee, who happened to be about the same height as me—5’7”. Most everyone else looked like they were about to topple out of it.
When I first went to Florida back in 1995, we had this massive pulpit on our platform that looked like it could have withstood a grenade blast. It really didn’t fit the style of our worship center. In fact, it was much too large for our stage area. And I looked like a little boy hiding behind it! With my encouragement, we opted for a whole new look—a sleek, open, three-cross design, merging neatly into a narrow, single pedestal base. I got the idea from Dr. Bobby Welch at First Baptist Daytona Beach (who later would become president of the Southern Baptist Convention). Bobby had designed the tri-cross pulpit himself. I had first seen it on his weekly television broadcast and then went over to Daytona to take a closer look. With his blessing, we built a replica with just a couple of modifications. (Again, Bobby and I were about the same height, so this made it a good fit for me). The pulpit is still there at my former church today.
Where churches place their pulpits is also interesting. Some churches with a more liturgical worship style have what they call a split-chancel. The pulpit (from which the minister preaches the sermon) is off to one side. Correspondingly, there is another smaller speaking stand—the lectern—which is off to the other side. This is typically where the Bible (or scripture lesson) is read (often by a lay person). In our Baptist tradition however, we’ve always placed the pulpit right in the middle, at center stage, because we historically have placed such a high priority on the preaching of the Word of God. Our worship is Word-centered. The proclamation of God’s infallible truth is paramount.
Some people think the first mention of a pulpit is actually found in the Bible, in Nehemiah 8. But the “pulpit” used then by the prophet Ezra to speak to the nation was probably not a pulpit like we think of a pulpit (i.e., something he stood behind). Rather, it was a platform, something high and lifted up, upon which he could stand and be seen by the masses. And that was the whole point of it—visibility, not separation. Connectivity, not distance or remoteness. To enhance communication, not impede it.
Some old-time preachers refer to the pulpit as “the sacred desk”. I’m not sure where that phrase originated. I don’t think it’s the desk that is sacred so much as it is the message. The bottom line for me is this: I think a pulpit can have a nice symbolic appeal. But it doesn’t matter so much what a preacher stands on or what he stands behind, as much as what he stands for.
“Bully Pulpit” was a term coined more than a century ago by President Teddy Roosevelt, not to describe a literal podium on which the president stood, but to symbolically describe the unique power of the presidency to speak out on issues of the day. (The word “bully” back then did not have the negative connotation it has today. So this doesn’t refer to the president browbeating or intimidating people by being a big, mean bully. It was a positive word inferring that he could use his office to speak out for the common good of the people.)
By the way, getting back to this matter of standing behind the pulpit, old-time evangelist Billy Sunday had a hard time standing
behind anything. In fact, the former major league baseball player had a hard time standing still at all, often running, jumping, leaping, and simulating a slide into second base during his sermons! (And I thought I’d seen some lively preachers!) Well, I obviously don’t move around like Billy Sunday. This coming Lord’s Day, you’ll see me positioned in my familiar spot behind my little pulpit. No, it doesn’t provide as much “protection” as those massive ones. But if the old adage, “lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place” applies to bullets too, then hopefully I won’t have to dodge any of them when standing behind that remnant of an old battle-worn walnut tree.
Pulpiteer Danny
attractive lightweight lectern was designed especially for me by our own Doug Stovall. Months ago, Doug had noticed that the old white lectern I had been using on Wednesday evenings was rather cumbersome and unsteady. So he decided to build a new one as a personal gift to me. He measured it to fit my exact height specifications. He even put a brass plaque on it to identify it as mine. He presented it to me back in the summer and I’ve been using it on Wednesdays ever since. And most recently, during our platform construction, it has come in quite handy on Sunday mornings.Doug’s pulpit is truly a work of art, an exquisite piece of fine craftsmanship. He made it from the wood of an old walnut tree. Surprisingly, while he was working with that wood, he came across an old stray bullet fired from a Civil War-era rifle. The bullet had been lodged in the tree trunk for more than a hundred years. So my new pulpit comes from historic old wood baptized in the fire of battle!
Our larger, more formal sanctuary pulpit is getting a breather right now. It probably will be back in its familiar place soon. By
the way, it also has a brass plaque on it. Right on its face, where the speaker alone can read it, it says: “Sir, we would see Jesus” (John 12:21). That simple but profound request was made two thousand years ago by a group of God-fearing Greeks seeking to meet the Messiah. For centuries, that same verse has appeared on numerous pulpits as a reminder to the preacher to always lift up Jesus when he speaks.Pulpits historically have come in all shapes and sizes. Some are so massive they look like a barricade protecting the preacher against
a possible assault. Others are so lofty one wonders if the pastor needs an oxygen mask because of the thinness of air at that high altitude. Some modern pulpits are made of clear Plexiglas that you can see through. Some contemporary churches don’t have pulpits at all.Twenty some years ago, I preached at an associational meeting at West Main Baptist Church in Danville. The church had this high pulpit that the speaker literally had to climb up into.
Several people spoke from it over the course of the two-day meeting. Some had difficulty with it, however, feeling awkwardly constrained by it or appearing too large for it. There was a new pastor in town that hailed from Texas. As he rose to speak, he commented that the pulpit made him feel like he was caught in a cattle chute at a rodeo. Then he let out a good ole Lone Star yelp, “Yee-haw!” The crowd roared. That’s really the only thing I remember from his whole sermon. Later, someone said to me, “You’re the only preacher that looked like you fit in that pulpit.” Then, it dawned on me that the pulpit had been specifically designed, no doubt, for the church’s longtime (but by then retired) pastor, Dr. Howard Lee, who happened to be about the same height as me—5’7”. Most everyone else looked like they were about to topple out of it.
When I first went to Florida back in 1995, we had this massive pulpit on our platform that looked like it could have withstood a grenade blast. It really didn’t fit the style of our worship center. In fact, it was much too large for our stage area. And I looked like a little boy hiding behind it! With my encouragement, we opted for a whole new look—a sleek, open, three-cross design, merging neatly into a narrow, single pedestal base. I got the idea from Dr. Bobby Welch at First Baptist Daytona Beach (who later would become president of the Southern Baptist Convention). Bobby had designed the tri-cross pulpit himself. I had first seen it on his weekly television broadcast and then went over to Daytona to take a closer look. With his blessing, we built a replica with just a couple of modifications. (Again, Bobby and I were about the same height, so this made it a good fit for me). The pulpit is still there at my former church today.
Where churches place their pulpits is also interesting. Some churches with a more liturgical worship style have what they call a split-chancel. The pulpit (from which the minister preaches the sermon) is off to one side. Correspondingly, there is another smaller speaking stand—the lectern—which is off to the other side. This is typically where the Bible (or scripture lesson) is read (often by a lay person). In our Baptist tradition however, we’ve always placed the pulpit right in the middle, at center stage, because we historically have placed such a high priority on the preaching of the Word of God. Our worship is Word-centered. The proclamation of God’s infallible truth is paramount.
Some people think the first mention of a pulpit is actually found in the Bible, in Nehemiah 8. But the “pulpit” used then by the prophet Ezra to speak to the nation was probably not a pulpit like we think of a pulpit (i.e., something he stood behind). Rather, it was a platform, something high and lifted up, upon which he could stand and be seen by the masses. And that was the whole point of it—visibility, not separation. Connectivity, not distance or remoteness. To enhance communication, not impede it.Some old-time preachers refer to the pulpit as “the sacred desk”. I’m not sure where that phrase originated. I don’t think it’s the desk that is sacred so much as it is the message. The bottom line for me is this: I think a pulpit can have a nice symbolic appeal. But it doesn’t matter so much what a preacher stands on or what he stands behind, as much as what he stands for.
“Bully Pulpit” was a term coined more than a century ago by President Teddy Roosevelt, not to describe a literal podium on which the president stood, but to symbolically describe the unique power of the presidency to speak out on issues of the day. (The word “bully” back then did not have the negative connotation it has today. So this doesn’t refer to the president browbeating or intimidating people by being a big, mean bully. It was a positive word inferring that he could use his office to speak out for the common good of the people.)By the way, getting back to this matter of standing behind the pulpit, old-time evangelist Billy Sunday had a hard time standing
behind anything. In fact, the former major league baseball player had a hard time standing still at all, often running, jumping, leaping, and simulating a slide into second base during his sermons! (And I thought I’d seen some lively preachers!) Well, I obviously don’t move around like Billy Sunday. This coming Lord’s Day, you’ll see me positioned in my familiar spot behind my little pulpit. No, it doesn’t provide as much “protection” as those massive ones. But if the old adage, “lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place” applies to bullets too, then hopefully I won’t have to dodge any of them when standing behind that remnant of an old battle-worn walnut tree.Pulpiteer Danny
