Growing up, no matter how good or bad the sermon, the speaker’s closing comments were usually the last I would ever hear of it. A man would undertake to preach the Word on behalf of its Author. An hour later, the residue had trickled down into the occasional ear, or become the subject of animated discussion at a few lunch or dinner tables. If I wanted to revisit what he had said, I had to reconstruct it from memory. Most of the time, I had forgotten the substance of any given message by the middle of the next week, though a memorable one-liner might stick with me for a while.
Much like the last 2,000 years or so, I imagine, though members of the early church were arguably more attentive than modern audiences. Without Bibles to consult, perhaps they had to be.
