INTRO — THE SERMON JUDGING COMMITTEE
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1. A GOOD SERMON PROCLAIMS
Acts 2:14
Peter stood up and raised his voice.
He didn’t hide behind politeness or whisper his faith so no one would be offended. He didn’t wait for perfect conditions. He didn’t send out a survey to the crowd asking what style of preaching they preferred: expository, topical, or “ten minutes or less or I’m outta here.”
He stood up. He spoke up. He said what mattered.
Because a sermon is not a suggestion. It is a proclamation that God has spoken, and if God has spoken, silence is not an option.
We live in a world drowning in information and starving for meaning. Billions of digital words pour into our lives every day. Opinions. Hot takes. Self-help tips. Breaking news. Yet none of them can tell the soul who it really is.
Preaching is different.
It says:
Here is truth you can build a life on.
Here is mercy too strong to be earned.
Here is love that refuses to give up on you.
A good sermon doesn’t leave Jesus in the footnotes.
It puts Him front and center like He’s the point of everything.
Because He is.
Peter doesn’t begin by explaining himself. He begins by announcing God’s work. “This is that,” he says. What you’re seeing isn’t chaos. It’s fulfillment. It’s God keeping His promise.
When the Church proclaims, we are saying:
God is not finished.
The Spirit is still moving.
Heaven is still invading earth.
You may not feel it yet. You may not understand it all, but God is closer than you think.
A sermon that proclaims is a sermon that invites the heart to hope again.
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2. A GOOD SERMON EXPLAINS
Acts 2:15–21
When the Spirit fell at Pentecost, the crowd’s first reaction wasn’t “Praise the Lord.” It was, “Somebody spiked the communion juice.”
They were confused. Suspicious. Dismissive.
People today aren’t that different.
We ask:
Why would a loving God feel so distant?
Why does faith feel like fog I can’t quite grab?
Why does my heart still hurt even when I pray?
Faith is a mystery, yes… but not a maze.
So Peter explains.
He lovingly, patiently connects the dots.
He shows them that God has been preparing this moment for generations.
“This is what the prophet Joel spoke about…”
That line is an act of mercy.
Because God never asks us to take a blind leap into darkness. He invites us to take a trusting step into Light.
A good sermon is not spiritual noise; it is clarity for the confused.
It says:
Your life isn’t random.
Your pain isn’t meaningless.
Your questions are allowed at the table.
Peter says these are the “last days.” Not in the sense of panic or breathless prophecy charts, but in the sense that God’s rescue plan is in motion.
Heaven isn’t waiting behind a velvet rope any longer.
The Spirit is out in the open, chasing hearts.
A good sermon explains so people can see what God is already doing around them and within them. Because when you start seeing that God has been in your story this whole time, something beautiful happens.
Faith awakens.
Hope rises.
The heart whispers, “Maybe this is for me.”
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3. A GOOD SERMON EXALTS JESUS
Acts 2:22–36
Peter doesn’t spend long talking about the Church.
He talks about the Savior.
“Jesus of Nazareth…”
He says His name like it matters.
Not just Jesus the idea.
Jesus the person.
Jesus who walked dusty streets.
Jesus who cried real tears.
Jesus who touched untouchable people.
Jesus who was mocked and misunderstood.
Jesus who died with forgiveness on His lips.
Peter exalts Him as:
• Fully human — He gets us.
• Fully God — He can save us.
Miracles, wonders, and signs didn’t make Jesus impressive. They revealed who He’d always been.
Then Peter brings the crowd face-to-face with the Cross.
“You, with the help of wicked men, put Him to death…”
That is not a guilt trip.
It is a reminder that love cost something.
We weren’t spectators of Calvary.
We were the reason Calvary was necessary.
Yet death could not hold Him.
The tomb could not tolerate Him.
Grave clothes could not restrict Him.
God raised Him.
God enthroned Him.
God made Him Lord and Messiah.
A good sermon exalts Jesus until people stop seeing religion and start seeing a Redeemer.
Until hearts say:
He is more beautiful than the life I am living without Him.
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4. A GOOD SERMON BRINGS CONVICTION
Acts 2:37
“When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart…”
Conviction isn’t condemnation.
It is the moment the lies fall silent.
It is when God’s love gets personal enough to make us uncomfortable. When you stop thinking about “people who really needed this sermon” and suddenly realize…
“This is for me.”
Conviction feels like a hand gently touching what hurts most.
Not to shame you.
To rescue you.
Right here in 2025: Conviction is the moment you wonder…
• “What if God wants more for me than I want for myself?”
• “What if this emptiness isn’t normal?”
• “What if I’ve been settling for survival when Jesus offers life?”
Nobody gets saved by being impressed.
We get saved by surrendering.
A good sermon doesn’t crush you.
It calls you back to where joy lives.
It says, “You were made for more than this.”
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5. A GOOD SERMON OFFERS HOPE
Acts 2:38–39
Peter doesn’t stop at conviction.
He opens the door to restoration.
“Repent.”
It doesn’t mean try harder.
Or behave better.
Or pretend you’re fine.
Repent means:
Turn toward the One who won’t turn away.
“Be baptized” — come out of hiding. Let the world see whose love has claimed you. Receive the Holy Spirit — God’s own presence. Someone to steady you when life shakes. Someone who will not pack His bags when you fail.
A good sermon doesn’t say:
“You’re a mess. Good luck getting better.”
It says:
“There is a Savior who gladly calls you His.”
Hope is the permission to imagine a different future.
Hope is a lifeline tied to a nail-scarred hand.
The world says:
“This is just how it is.”
Jesus says:
“This is not how it will stay.”
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6. A GOOD SERMON INVITES A DECISION
Acts 2:40–41
Peter didn’t end his sermon with “Thanks for coming. Drive safe.”
He didn’t say, “Think about this for a while and maybe someday, once you’ve really got everything cleaned up, you can come back and we’ll talk again.”
He looked right into a crowd full of stories and fears and stubbornness and longing and he said:
“Be saved from this crooked generation.”
Not “shamed.”
Not “scared.”
Saved.
Every sermon eventually comes to a crossroads.
Every heart eventually hears the quiet question:
“What will you do with Jesus?”
Not:
What will your parents do?
What will society do?
What will the government or the experts or the influencers do?
This is personal.
What will you do with a Savior who has already said yes to you?
Scripture says the people were “cut to the heart,” and then… they moved. They didn’t stay stuck. They didn’t say, “That was an interesting message.” They asked the most important question a human heart can ever form:
“What must we do?”
Peter told them:
• Turn toward Jesus
• Be unashamed to follow Him
• Receive His Spirit
• Walk in newness of life
Three thousand people said yes.
A good sermon presses the truth close enough that you must decide whether to welcome the love that is reaching for you.
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THE CALL HOME
Maybe you came into church today a little like that crowd in Jerusalem.
Worried about the world.
Confused by your own heart.
Carrying an ache you haven’t been able to name.
Maybe you walked in with a prayer you were afraid to speak:
“God, if You’re real… I need You to find me.”
Listen.
You are not lost to Him.
You might feel far away, but He is near enough to notice the smallest turning of your heart.
Jesus has already done the hardest part:
• He lived the life we couldn’t live
• He died the death we couldn’t avoid
• He rose so death wouldn’t have the final word
• He sent His Spirit so we wouldn’t have to walk alone
You don’t have to fix yourself to come to Him.
You come to Him, and He becomes your healing.
You don’t have to pretend anymore.
You don’t have to earn what He already offers freely.
The same Jesus Peter preached on that day is alive and speaking to your heart in this one.
If something inside you is stirring…
If there’s a warmth or a restlessness…
If there’s a sense that maybe… just maybe… God is talking to you…
That is not emotion.
That is invitation.
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THIS IS YOUR MOMENT
Not a moment of pressure.
A moment of mercy.
Not God dragging you somewhere you don’t want to go.
God leading you home to what you were created for.
You can decide today:
“I want Jesus at the center of my life.
I want the guilt gone.
I want the fear silenced.
I want a new beginning.”
Your past may have shaped you, but it does not get to own you.
Your failures may have wounded you, but they do not have to define you.
Your sin brought you here.
God’s grace can take you forward.
Right now, the Savior who holds galaxies together holds out His hand to you.
A good sermon becomes your sermon when you place your life into the hands of the One who gave His life for you.
You can whisper it right where you sit:
“Jesus, I’m turning toward You.
Forgive me.
Lead me.
Make me Yours.”
He hears every word.
Even the ones you can’t speak out loud.
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CONCLUSION — WHAT MAKES A SERMON GOOD?
A good sermon isn’t measured by how many laughed, or cried, or applauded… but by what God awakens inside people.
A good sermon…
Proclaims God’s truth
Explains God’s movement
Exalts God’s Son
Convicts the heart
Offers hope
Invites a response
Because Jesus is alive.
And when He is lifted up, people move toward life.
Just like on that Pentecost day, the Spirit is still reaching.
Still stirring.
Still saving.
Real church.
Real people.
In the real world.
A good sermon doesn’t end when the preacher stops talking…
It begins when someone says, “Yes, Lord.”
