Don’t Apologize for Preaching Weak

In your weakest sermons, God may reveal His strongest grace so stop seeking permission to be unimpressive.

The worship team finishes the final verse. You glance over your notes, thinner than usual. Your voice isn’t back to full strength. Your week has been long, distracted by sickness, emergencies, or just plain fatigue. And right as you step into the pulpit, a visitor catches your eye. A long-absent church member is back. The sanctuary feels heavy with expectation.

You clear your throat and begin: “Good morning. I need to apologize in advance…”

It seems harmless maybe even humble. But sometimes, those words are not born out of concern for the flock, but from a deeper, subtler root: pride. Not the loud, boastful pride that puffs up, but the fragile kind that fears disappointing people. That desperate self-preservation that would rather make excuses than risk criticism.

A Familiar Temptation

It’s a temptation familiar to many pastors. We start to treat the pulpit like a stage and the congregation like critics. We worry that our underdeveloped outline or recovering voice will reflect poorly on us, rather than trust that Christ’s strength is made perfect in our weakness.

The danger isn’t simply in the apology. It’s in what often lies beneath: self-concern disguised as humility. A fear that people might see us as ordinary, unimpressive, or underprepared. It’s a fear of being thought less of. And it is, at its root, pride.

As preachers, we are not performers. We are heralds. And a herald does not apologize for his lack of polish he proclaims the King’s message.

Paul’s Way, Not Ours

The Apostle Paul gives us a better model. He didn't deny his weaknesses he boasted in them. Why? Because Paul wanted the power and glory of Christ to shine through his frailty.

He writes, “If I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me” (2 Corinthians 12:6).

Paul wasn’t pretending to be weak to fish for pity or compliments. He wasn’t using self-deprecation as a cover for self-promotion. He embraced his weakness to highlight God’s strength. He wanted people to think rightly of him and more importantly, rightly of Christ.

What’s At Stake in the Apology

When we apologize for our “subpar” sermons, we’re often trying to maintain an image. We want to protect people’s perception of us. We want them to know: “I’m usually better than this.” But in doing so, we draw attention to ourselves instead of the message. We inadvertently suggest that the power of the sermon lies in our preparation or performance.

If we believe that God’s Word does not return void (Isaiah 55:11), and that the Holy Spirit is present and active when it is faithfully preached, then why do we seek to hedge our bets with disclaimers?

Let the Word Do the Work

Imagine a town crier who opens his message with a list of reasons why it might not sound as strong as usual. “I’ve been a bit under the weather. I didn’t sleep much. Please excuse my delivery…” It would be ridiculous especially when the message he carries is from the King.

The authority of the sermon does not come from our polish or eloquence. It comes from the truth of God’s Word, delivered by a man submitted to God, regardless of how weak or weary he may feel.

That doesn’t mean we never acknowledge difficulty or trials. Paul certainly did. But he did so to magnify Christ, not to protect his own image.

Preach from Your Knees

The best sermons aren’t always the ones with the most polish. They’re often the ones born in personal weakness, steeped in prayer, and delivered with trembling reliance on Christ. In those moments, the preacher is nothing but Christ is everything.

If you’re a pastor who has labored all week in hardship, whose outline is less robust than usual, whose voice cracks or notes fall short don’t apologize. Preach Christ. Preach the cross. Preach hope. And let your weakness be the very thing that shows the glory of God’s strength.

Preaching is never about being impressive. It’s about being faithful. And sometimes, the most faithful thing you can do is rise in your weakness, and proclaim the Word without excuse.

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