In its broadest sense, discourse refers to the act of exchanging words in conversation. When applied to leadership, however, the Korean National Dictionary offers a more specific definition: “speech in which a person representing an organization or occupying a public position expresses views or attitudes on a particular issue.” At times, national leaders deliver formal addresses to their citizens. Corporate CEOs address employees when circumstances require it. Salespeople engage customers in discourse to persuade them to buy. For spiritual leaders who shepherd a church, preaching is the most critical form of discourse.
Contrary to popular belief—at least in the United States—the greatest human fear is not death. Statistics consistently show that Americans’ most intense fear is public speaking. Benjamin Disraeli once observed, “Men are governed by words.” Without the ability to speak effectively, leadership cannot be exercised. Among the leaders I have personally observed, none demonstrated greater mastery of discourse than President Ronald Reagan. Whenever controversy arose around him, Reagan would appear on television, deliver a compelling address, win the hearts of the public, and quiet the criticism. Those who listened to his speeches often said, “Reagan was a born orator.”
Yet the renowned speaking coach Roddy Galbraith argued otherwise: “There is no such thing as a born speaker. Great speakers are created only through long-term training and discipline.” The formula he proposed for developing speaking ability was disarmingly simple: “Train, train, train. A speech refined through rigorous training creates the illusion that the speaker is naturally gifted. But it is only an illusion—the reality is endless self-discipline.” Galbraith suggested a 40:1 ratio, explaining that “the best speakers invest forty minutes of preparation for one minute of smooth delivery.” If we apply this ratio directly to sermon preparation, delivering a thirty-minute sermon at the highest level would require roughly twenty hours of preparation.
What, then, is the difference between information and communication? Information focuses on what the speaker has said. Communication, by contrast, focuses on what the audience has heard. A skilled preacher thinks beyond what to preach and considers how listeners will hear it. Unfortunately, many preachers devote 100% of their preparation to deciding what to say, leaving them neither the emotional space nor the time to consider how to speak in a way that truly engages the audience.
Effective counseling requires rapport between counselor and counselee. Preaching is no different. More important than the content delivered is the rapport between the preacher and the congregation. One of the most influential homiletics books of its time, written by Craig A. Loscalzo, bears a telling title: Preaching Sermons that Connect. When the preacher and the audience fail to connect, the sermon is wasted.
Acts 17:22–31 records Paul’s discourse at the Areopagus in Athens. Verse 16 provides context, noting that Paul was deeply distressed upon seeing that the city was full of idols. What connects a speaker to an audience is often not content alone, but the speaker’s emotion. Anyone who has experienced the saving power inherent in the gospel cannot preach without passion. A passionless preacher can never connect with an audience.
In addition to passion, Paul begins his address with remarkable wisdom: “People of Athens, I see that in every way you are very religious. As I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: “To an unknown god.” So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you” (Acts 17:22–23). Rather than overwhelming the Greeks with his own religious knowledge, Paul begins from their perspective (“you are very religious”), identifies a shared point of connection (“to an unknown god”), and from that common ground proceeds to present his message.
At that moment, Paul and his audience are connected. Without connection, the content of discourse cannot be transmitted. Without developing the capacity for discourse, it is impossible to become an exceptional leader. A single well-chosen word can repay a thousand debts. But a leader who fails to speak that one word well cannot clear the debt that must be forgiven—and ultimately forfeits credibility as a leader.