Bible Sermon Illustrations

Bible Sermon Illustrations

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Treasure Trove

When one of our sons, a lad then of six or seven, attending school in Great Britain for the first time, came home saying he had to write a short essay on `My greatest treasure', we wondered which of his treasured possessions he would choose to write about. When he showed us his completed composition, we were delighted to find that his first sentence was 'My greatest treasure is my Holy Bible.'—A.N.

A man may read the figures on a sundial, but he cannot tell how the day goes unless the sun shines on the dial; so also we may read the Bible over, but we cannot learn its message till the Spirit of God shine into our hearts.—Anonymous

Yes, sweet Bible! I will hide thee
Deep, yes deeper in this heart;
Thou, through all my life will guide me,
And in death we will not part.
Part in death ? No! never! never!

Through death's vale I'll lean on thee;
Then, in worlds above, for ever,
Sweeter still thy truths shall be!—Phoebe Palmer

Some look upon the Bible as a garden of spices, in which you may walk, and at your leisure pluck the flowers and gather the fruits of the Eden of God. But this does not accord with my experience. I have found it more like a mine, in which you must dig and labor, the wealth of which is not obtained without labor—a mine rich in gold and precious things, but it must be worked day and night in order to produce them.—Todd

An infidel lecturer was once asked, "Why can't you let the Bible alone, if you don't believe it?" The honest reply was at once made, "Because the Bible won't let me alone."—Selected

An old Negro preacher, when shown a commentary prepared by a learned scholar, remarked, "Well, sir, the Bible certainly do shed a lot of light on that book of yours."—Your Child and God

One of the most beautiful and truthful tributes to the Bible ever written is that by Billy Sunday, voiced by him in his preaching.

"Twenty-nine years ago, with the Holy Spirit as my Guide, I entered at the portico of Genesis, walked down the corridor of the Old Testament art-galleries, where pictures of Noah, Abraham, Moses, Joseph, Isaac, and Jacob and Daniel hang on the wall. I passed into the music-room of the Psalms where the Spirit sweeps the keyboard of nature until it seems that every reed and pipe in God's great organ responds to the harp of David the sweet-singer of Israel.

"I entered the chamber of Ecclesiastes, where the voice of the preacher is heard, and into the conservatory of Sharon and the lily of the valley where sweet spices filled and perfumed my life.

"I entered the business office of Proverbs and on into the observatory of the prophets where I saw telescopes of various sizes pointing to far-off events, concentrating on the bright and morning star which was to rise above the moonlit hills of Judea for our salvation and redemption.

"I entered the audience-room of the King of kings, catching a vision written by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Thence into the correspondence-room with Paul, Peter, James and John writing their epistles.

"I stepped into the throne-room of Revelation where tower the glittering peaks, where sits the King of kings upon His throne of glory with the healing of the nations in His hand, and I cried out:

'All hail the power of Jesus' Name,
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all.'"

Milk Your Own Cow

"As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow thereby" (I Pet. 2:2).

Patrick was an Irish Catholic, who for years had longed for the assurance of peace with God. A visiting tourist, who fell into conversation with him, left him a copy of the New Testament, the Douay version, approved by the officials of his church. Through reading this, Pat was brought to a saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, and from that time on, read and studied his Testament with eagerness, ever seeking a deeper knowledge of the things of God.

The parish priest, who had missed him from the regular services, called on him and found him deep in the study of the Word.

"Pat," he asked, "what is that book you are reading?" "Sure, your riverence," was the reply, "it's the New Testament."

In horrified accents the priest exclaimed, "The New Testament! Why, Pat, that's not a book for the likes of you. You'll be getting all kinds of wild notions from reading it and will be running off into heresy."

"But, your riverence," remonstrated Pat, "I have just been reading here—it's the blessed apostle Peter himself that wrote it—`As newborn babes, desire the sincere milk of the word, that you may grow thereby,' and sure it's a newborn babe in Christ I am and it's the milk of the Word I'm after. So I can't see the harm of reading the Testament."

"Ah," said the priest, "It's perfectly true, Patrick, that you need the milk of the Word, but the Almighty has appointed the clergy to be the milkmen. The clergy go to the college and the seminary and learn the meaning of the Word and then when the people come to the church we give it to them as they are able to bear it, and explain it in a way that they won't misunderstand."

"Well, sure, your riverence," said Pat, "you know I kape a cow of me own out there in the barn, and when I was sick, sometime ago, I had to hire a man to milk the cow and I soon found he was shtealin' half the milk and fillin' the bucket up with water, and sure it was awful weak milk I was gettin'. But now that I am well again I have let him go and I am milkin' me own cow, and so it's the rich cream I am gettin' once more. And your riverence, when I was dependin' on you for the milk of the Word, sure it was the blue, watery stuff you were givin' me. But now I am milkin' me own cow and enjoyin' the cream of the Word all the time."

We may well emulate Patrick and each for himself milk his own cow and thus get God's Word firsthand as He opens it up by the Holy Spirit.

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