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It doesn’t take long in your preaching before you’ll find yourself preaching the same text twice. But preach long enough, and you’ll not only preach it twice, you’ll preach it well both times! What once felt like a defining moment in that first sermon eventually gives way to a second approach to the same text, just as defining, yet aimed at completely different goals and outcomes.
Going Home
In 2022, I was invited to speak at a chapel service at my alma mater, Lincoln Christian University. When I accepted the invitation in January, I had no idea that a month later, LCU would announce drastic cutbacks that would bring much of the undergraduate program to an end. Nor could I have known that when I stood to preach in April, it would be at the final undergraduate chapel service.
As those details came to light, I approached the message with the solemnity it deserved.
I thought of my own undergraduate experience; how going off to college provided me with a way out of the dysfunction of my alcoholic home. I also thought of the students who would now be returning to their homes. How many of them carried wounds similar to mine at their age? Would going home feel like failure? Could it feel more like a calling?
They Went Across the Lake to the Region of the Gerasenes
For my text, I chose a story from Mark with which I had deeply identified after reading a short article by Tim Challies. At a time in my life when I was uncertain about my calling to serve in my home church, Tim’s article encouraged me to see my calling more clearly—and to discover a new biblical hero in the man once known as “Legion,” whose life and identity had been scarred by demons.
I preached the sermon in chapel and thought to myself, “That went well, but I could never preach that back home.” It felt too raw and honest. Of course, I later realized home was exactly where I needed to preach it.
In September of 2022, just five months after originally preaching it to the student body in Lincoln, I shared a lightly rewritten version with my home church and found it received with much grace. A year later, preparing to leave that church for a new ministry two hours away, I preached it again at a fellowship gathering of several churches in our county. A few weeks later, I preached it once more at a former church where I had served as associate minister for seven years—a place that had brought me much healing from my childhood wounds.
What Is Your Name?
Fast forward to 2025—just a few weeks ago—when I found myself back in Mark 5, with Jesus encountering the demoniac. I was asked to preach this text as part of a series titled Beyond Question, which focused on the many questions Jesus asked in the Gospels.
In Mark 5:9, Jesus asks the demon-possessed man, “What is your name?” That’s a very different focus from my sermon in 2022, a sermon that had been so defining for my call and the grace I’ve experienced.
This couldn’t be a rewrite or a retread. This sermon required an entirely new approach to the same text. It meant setting aside a message that had been deeply personal three years earlier to write something that would speak into this new context and connect with listeners today.
When You Find Yourself Preaching the Same Text Again
Preaching the same text twice is not a sign that you’ve run out of ideas—it’s inevitable. After two Christmases or four Easters, you’re bound to find yourself re-preaching familiar passages! But beyond those seasonal selections, returning to a text can be a sign that you’re paying attention. Scripture is deep enough to speak new things into new seasons of life, both for the preacher and for the congregation.
Sometimes the reason for revisiting a text is external: a different congregation, a new ministry context, or a shifting cultural moment. Other times, the reason is internal: you’re not the same preacher you were the first time you opened that text. Life, pain, and growth give you new eyes.
When you return to a familiar passage, here are a few ways to approach it:
Reread It with Fresh Eyes
Don’t start with your old sermon notes. Start with the text itself and ask, “What’s standing out to me now?”
One benefit of doing your textual work before beginning your sermon is that it grounds you in the passage itself. When I prepared to preach Mark 5 in 2022, I studied the dominant thought of the text, the action in the narrative, the motivations of both Jesus and the demon-possessed man, and the resolution at the end. None of that changed when I returned to the text in 2025.
What had changed was the goal of the new sermon series, the audience, and—of course—me. There was no way this new sermon could be about staying in my hometown like the man at the end of the story. I had to find a different point of connection in the narrative.
Consider New Angles
Different dominant thoughts, characters, or applications might be waiting for you.
While preaching from Mark 5, the dominant thought of the text never changed. But the sermonic dominant thought did. Likewise, the characters didn’t change—the man still goes from raging among the tombs to sitting at Jesus’ feet. But the focus of the second sermon required me to take the narrative further than I had in the first, extending into Mark 6 and Jesus’ return to the opposite side of the sea.
Be Honest About Overlap
If a previous insight still serves the new sermon, use it. Faithfulness is more important than novelty.
In both sermons, I made the same point: that sitting at the feet of Jesus is a euphemism for being a disciple. In both sermons, I talked about how throughout the Gospel of Mark, Jesus is always calling people to follow him—and that this is the only time he tells someone to stay put.
Using statements like that twice wasn’t laziness on my part. It was faithfulness to the text and to the central message of the Gospel.
Listen to Your Earlier Sermon
Now it’s time to reconsider the previous sermon. Ask yourself what you’d keep, what you’d change, and what you’ve learned since.
Knowing the second sermon had to be different, I revisited my original sermon. What could I keep? What elements were essential to who I am as a preacher?
For example, I really wanted to keep a pig illustration from the first sermon. It was a fun story that played well for a laugh and got a great reaction the first time. However, I had to remind myself repeatedly: the sermon is about more than the pig story! Sometimes, as much as we love our illustrations, they don’t serve the new purpose.
That said, don’t be afraid to borrow from the work you’ve done before. You’ve put your heart into that earlier message, invested significant research, and crafted meaningful stories. If they fit, feel free to use them.
Keep Good Records
You’ll be grateful later for notes about when, where, and how you preached a text before.
My second sermon concluded in Mark 6, where Jesus returns to the other side of the lake, in the region of Gennesaret, and is met by crowds eager to be healed and set free. I had considered using that ending in my first sermon, but it didn’t fit the theme at the time. For the second sermon, though, it was the logical conclusion.
Keep records of your textual research, outlines, and illustrations. The work you’ve done on one sermon can bear fruit long into the future. Beyond simply re-preaching the same text, you’ll discover valuable material for articles, devotionals, and other approaches to Scripture.
Preaching the Same Text Twice—And Preaching It Well
Preaching the same text twice—and preaching it well both times—is one of the gifts of staying in ministry long enough to see Scripture open itself up in new ways.
During my twenty-one years at Kansas Christian Church, I preached through Ephesians twice and Colossians no fewer than three times (and I would have done a fourth if I could have gotten away with it!). Each time, the series was different because the congregation was different, the culture was different, and I was different.
I’ve experienced the same thing with Mark 5. One sermon was about calling and place. Another was about identity and grace. The text never changed—but I did. So did the people I was preaching to. And so will you.
The Text Doesn’t Change, But We Do
If you find yourself standing once again before a familiar passage, don’t see it as repeating yourself. See it as an invitation. An invitation to dig deeper. To listen again. And to let the Word of God speak something new, both to you and through you.
Keep returning to familiar texts. God often has new things to say.
