As I teach and preach I often wish I could wheel out the brain-o-scan machine so that I could see inside the minds and hearts of the listeners. While it might be scary to look inside their minds as I drone about the Jebusites, it would also be invaluable.

But let me turn the brain-o-scan machine away from the audience to myself so that you can see the matter my gray matter was mulling as I prepared the sermon, "Praying While Running." As we explore the recesses of my mind, I'll also summarize a few principles that may help you preach on little-known Old Testament texts.

As I began to study for this sermon, my brain said, "What have you done? Why in the world did you choose this passage?" I answered my brain this way: "I believe that all Scripture is inspired by God and is profitable for spiritual growth. That includes portions of Scripture which are challenging and under-preached." While 1 Samuel 21-22 is not as obscure as Obadiah, neither is it part of our canon-within-the-canon. But I tackled it with confidence, believing that it has a good word for the Church. I explained to my brain: "Our people need to hear the great truths of the gospel from all Scripture, and for long-time church goers, an unusual text can blow a north wind through the musty sanctuary. Furthermore, preaching from unusual texts is good for the preacher too. This will make me study a new portion, stimulate my mind, and feed my soul." I was right! I loved studying this passage, especially learning about the chronology and geography of David's flight from Saul, and how some of the psalms, like Psalm 57, were written while he was running. 1 Samuel 21 and 22 is confusing until you get out your Bible Atlas and commentaries.

Principle 1: Don't shy away from little known texts. Embrace them! You will find your study invigorating, and the people will find the stories interesting and edifying.

Two challenges confronted me as I prepared this sermon. The first was the length of the pericope—two chapters (43 verses). My brain said, "You've got to be kidding me," because the narrative is a whirlwind of frenetic fleeing as David runs this way and that to escape Saul. As I neared the end of my exegesis and starting thinking through issues of homiletics, I concluded that reading the entire passage in one hearing would not be an effective method of "standing between two worlds"—the worlds of the text and the listeners—because modern listeners do not have a map in their minds. The brain-o-scan machine would reveal only fog in the minds of the congregation if I simply read the passage without comment, so I broke the passage into seven scenes and read portions of each scene as I progressed through the sermon. I also used power point extensively, showing maps and pictures of each of the locations: Gibeah, Nob, Gath, Mizpah, Adullam, the "stronghold" (which may have been Masada), and the forest of Hereth. This helped the congregation to understand and feel David's miserable experience as he ran from Saul. As I preached, my brain said, "Hey, this is working well! I'm glad we decided to read the passage scene by scene and to use maps and pictures."

Principle 2: When preaching from a long passage, find a way to help listeners comprehend its ideas and emotions. I did this with the methods described above, but you might also try using multiple readers to portray the various characters, or multiple locations on the platform for the different scenes.

The second challenge was the text's descriptive, not prescriptive, nature. It is simply a catalog of events: "David went here, then he went there, then this bad guy did such and such, and then David did so and so … ." Knowing that Hebrew narrative uses history, a "mere" catalog of events, to present theology, I studied with an eye for the timeless attributes of God. My brain asked, "What does this story teach about our immutable God?" Furthermore, knowing that Hebrew narratives were also written to present moral lessons for people in the Covenant, I studied looking for contemporary application. After about eight hours of study, my brain brought these three concerns together (history, theology, and application) and this is the central idea I framed:

"While waiting for God to fulfill his promise, when assailed by evil, trust him." Or in its shortened, memorable form: "While running, pray." The term "running" is a shorthand way to summarize David's years of trials even after God had promised him the kingdom, and the term "pray" is more concrete and action-oriented than the abstract "trust him."

Principle 3: As you study, look for theology. The Bible is God's self-revelation. As Haddon Robinson asks, "What is the vision of God in this passage?"

Principle 4: As you study, look for application. The Bible is not only a book of theology; it is also a guide for behavior. It reveals God's covenant stipulations, guidelines for how we should respond to the covenant of grace. When preachers ground the moral imperative ("do this … don't do that") in the theological indicative ("do this because is God is a trustworthy King"), life change occurs.

One thing that I did not do, and now regret, was to demonstrate how the central truth is especially meaningful for New Testament believers. In other words, I did not preach a Christ-centered sermon. My brain nagged me about this as I prepared, but I shushed my brain. I stopped with theology when I could have easily gone on to Christology by pointing out that Jesus also was assailed by evil for our sake, and that he endured suffering, "leaving us an example, so that we might follow in his steps … . When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:21, 23). David is a good model, but Jesus is the ultimate model.

Principle 5: Listen to your brain: preach Christ. He is the true hero of the Old Testament stories.

While the brain-o-scope is still facing me, let me reveal two other issues that were in my mind as I preached.

• Judicious use of the pause. I gave people time to imagine, feel, and identify with David's trial. An example is when I stated these lines: "Waiting is hard. // Maybe you David felt as though he was worshipping 'Invisible Yahweh.' /// Waiting is hard." At that point I looked directly into the eyes of the worshipers, silently pastoring them, letting them know that I know their trials, and more importantly that God knows. My brain said, "Wait, wait, give them time. Don't hurry this sacred moment."

Principle 6: Remember that the nonverbal channel, what you look like and sound like, greatly influences the rhetorical effectiveness of your words. In particular, pause. Don't let your voice run on and on like an ancient Hebrew scroll with words crowded into unbroken lines.

• Control of the slides. Rather than have a tech person advance my slides, I did so myself with a remote control. As I preached, my brain was happy that I had made that choice because the timing of the slides was important to the effect I was trying to create. The slides needed to become visible at the right moment, not early or late. I also placed blank slides between sections so that folks would not stare at the screen while I narrated the next scene. Also, the setup of the stage was awkward, so my brain told me to keep moving back and forth so that I would block the screen for only an instant for each individual.

Principle 7: Practice with your visual aids. Let them aid the communication, not wound it.

Too bad we can't see into the hearts and minds of our listeners, but at least we can use the brain-o-scan machine on ourselves to reflect on why we made or didn't make certain homiletical choices.

Jeffrey Arthur is professor of preaching and communication at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary.