During the years I was teaching preaching at a university divinity school I was often struck by how eloquent many of our students could be when describing the human condition. They would wax lyrical, find appropriate metaphors, use telling examples of life experiences, and identify with their audience in ways that kept their hearers’ attention and interest. They could use classical rhetorical moves to great effect, taking us to worlds of poverty, illness, struggle, or anxiety with surprising deftness. If there were a preaching Pulitzer for that sort of thing, I’d have had some nominees. As I took note of my students’ persuasive skills, I began to notice something else too. I began to notice that many of these same students, most of them preparing...