I once preached a sermon with 160 quarts of dirt piled in front of me. Only rather than piling the dirt on the wood floor of the pulpit I placed a tarp underneath. My “dirty sermon” wasn’t quite as dirty as I made it appear. I was exonerating the goodness of the ground while simultaneously and secretly censoring its full effect.
But for those with eyes to see, this was the true sermon within the sermon, a caricature of the ways we renounce capitalism while playing safely within its confines, a critique of evangelical belief that gives birth to an evangelical doubt, and all the paradigmatic departures whose advent we proclaim without ever truly shifting our own paradigm.