What Nobody Tells You About Your First Sermon in Ghana

I remember the humidity pressing down, the smell of woodsmoke and dust, and the quiet weight of expectation. My wife, Laura, and I had been in Ghana for a few weeks, learning the ropes, meeting folks, and trying to get our bearings. Then came Sunday, and the moment I stood up to deliver my first sermon in Ghana. It felt like every lesson, every prayer, and every mile traveled had led to that single, pivotal moment.

The Call and the Culture Shock

The mission field clarifies things quickly. It removes the padding. There are no stage lights and no weekly affirmation that you are doing well. There is only the work. When we first arrived in West Africa, everything was new. The sounds, the sights, the sheer energy of a Ghanaian market could overwhelm you in minutes. We had come with a burden to share the Gospel and plant churches, but first, we had to learn how to live.

Learning to live meant learning to listen. It meant understanding that the way folks communicated, the way they valued time, and what they considered important might be very different from what I knew back home in the States. This wasn’t just about language; it was about culture, about heart. I knew I had to connect with these precious people if my first sermon in Ghana was ever going to make sense to them. That meant putting aside my own assumptions and truly seeking to understand. It’s the kind of foundational work that every missionary must face, the real grit of the calling that we talk about on Missionary on Fire.

Finding My Voice (and a Translator)

Standing before that small group of people, my heart was pounding a little harder than usual. I had prepared a message from the Book of John, simple and direct, about the love of God. But my Twi was still rudimentary at best. I knew enough to get by at the market, but preaching? That was a different animal entirely. So, I relied on Brother Kwasi, a faithful Ghanaian believer who had graciously offered to translate.

Brother Kwasi was a patient man. I would speak a sentence or two in English, then pause, and he would translate it into fluent Twi. This rhythm was completely new to me. It forced me to slow down, to think about every word, and to trust that God could use even this fractured method to deliver His truth. Sometimes, I’d see a flicker of amusement in the eyes of the listeners, maybe because of my accent, or perhaps Brother Kwasi’s translation made a point funnier than I intended. I chose to believe them.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16). This was the bedrock of my message. It’s a verse that transcends culture, language, and any stumbling delivery. It is a powerful, simple truth that everyone needs to hear. The job wasn’t to impress; it was to proclaim.

My First Sermon in Ghana: Building Trust

My first sermon in Ghana was not a standalone event. It was one thread in a larger tapestry of relationships we were trying to weave. We had spent weeks before that Sunday visiting homes, sharing meals, and simply being present in the community. Laura, with her gentle spirit, was a master at building these connections. People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. That’s a truth that hits different when you’re thousands of miles from home.

Building trust meant showing up, even when it was inconvenient. It meant sitting through long conversations where I only understood half of what was being said, but I kept nodding and smiling anyway. It meant helping out with small tasks, sharing what little we had, and demonstrating genuine love. The gospel is delivered not just through words from a pulpit, but through the witness of a life. We share more about these daily realities and how you can support our ministry through our prayer letters.

“Globally, 3.24 billion people, representing 40.8% of the world’s population, remain unreached with the gospel.”
International Mission Board

This stark reality fuels our work. It reminds us that every conversation, every visit, and every sermon matters. It’s a long game, built on consistency and prayer. We’re not looking for quick conversions as much as we are seeking to plant seeds that will grow into thriving, indigenous churches.

The Simplicity of the Gospel

What do you preach to people who may be hearing the gospel for the very first time? You preach Jesus Christ and Him crucified. You keep it simple. You keep it clear. You tell them about sin, about grace, about repentance, and about faith. There’s no need for theological gymnastics or complicated doctrines. The core message of salvation is profound enough on its own.

I remember looking into faces that were eager, curious, and some, perhaps, a little skeptical. But the message of God’s love, the sacrifice of Jesus, and the promise of eternal life resonated. It always does. The Holy Spirit does the work. My job was just to be a willing vessel, to open the KJV Bible, and to share what God had given me. This is the heart of what we do as missionaries, whether it’s your first time preaching or your thousandth. It’s about proclaiming the good news.

You see it in places like Blue Letter Bible, where the Word of God is made accessible to so many. That same accessibility, that directness, is what we strive for in our preaching. Make it plain. Make it powerful. Make it about Jesus.

Lessons from the Pulpit (and the Pews)

That day, after the service, I felt a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. It was far from perfect. My Twi was broken, my delivery probably a little stiff, and I was sweating through my shirt. But the people stayed. They asked questions. Some even expressed a desire to learn more. That was so much fun to hear. It wasn’t about my performance. It was about God’s power.

“So then faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” (Romans 10:17). This verse became a bedrock for me in those early days. It wasn’t my cleverness or my eloquence that would save souls. It was the Word of God, faithfully preached, that would bring forth faith. My job was simply to make sure they heard it. And they did.

Preaching your first sermon in Ghana, or anywhere for that matter, teaches you humility. It teaches you dependence on God. It teaches you that the Holy Spirit is the true evangelist. I learned that day, and in many days since, that the work isn’t about me. It’s about Him. That lesson has stuck with me through every church plant, every difficult conversation, and every unexpected triumph. It keeps you grounded. If you’re feeling a similar call or just want to understand the heart of what it means to be truly committed to the Lord’s work, I encourage you to check out some of the resources we share about what it means to be a Missionary on Fire.

The journey of faith often begins with a single step, or in my case, a single sermon delivered under the hot Ghanaian sun. It’s a step of obedience, a step of courage, and a step taken in absolute reliance on God. The work is hard, the challenges are many, but the harvest is plentiful. We are still here, still planting, still preaching, still seeing lives changed by the simple, powerful truth of the Gospel.

If you have a burden for the lost, if you feel God tugging at your heart for something more, do not let fear take the wheel. Surrender to His call. You can learn more about our work and how God prepares individuals for His service by exploring the “Missionary on Fire” resources on our site. It’s a call to action, not just a title. We’d love for you to connect with us and see how you can be a part of what God is doing here.

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