Nature Sermon Illustrations

Nature Sermon Illustrations

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Nature Worshipers

"Can't I worship in the green fields?" piously asks the Sunday hiker. "You can," was the answer, "but you don't." Nature never, of itself, leads to God. The African savage sits at his cannibal feast, surrounded by natural scenery which surpasses in splendor and glory anything we in England have ever seen. Nature has not led him to God.Why Sunday?


The Master's Touch

If the Master deigns to touch with divine power the cold and pulseless heart of the buried acorn, causing it to burst forth into a new life, will He leave neglected in the earth the soul of man, made in the image of his Creator? If lie stoops to give to the rosebush, whose withered blossoms float upon the autumn breeze, the sweet assurance of another springtime, will He refuse words of hope to the sons of men when the frosts of winter come?

If matter, mute and inanimate, though changed by the forces of Nature into a multitude of forms, can never die, will the imperial spirit of man alone suffer annihilation, after it has made a brief visit, like a royal guest, to this tenement of clay? No; I am as sure that there is another life as I am that I live today.

Some time ago while in Cairo, I was shown a few grains of wheat that had slumbered for more than 3,000 years in an Egyptian tomb. As I gazed upon those grains of wheat, this thought came into my mind, that if one of them had been planted upon the banks of the Nile the next year after it was grown, and all of its lineal descendants had been harvested and planted from that day to this, its progeny would be sufficiently numerous to feed the teeming millions of this world.

There is an unbroken chain of life that connects the earliest grain with the one which we now sow and reap. If there is an invisible something in a grain of wheat which enables it, when warmed by the sunshine and nurtured by the rain, to discard its old body, and build out of the earth and air a new one so much like the old that you cannot tell the one from the other, and transmit its own likeness through 3,000 generations, I need not fear that my soul will have the power to clothe itself with a new body, suited to another existence, when this earthly frame has crumbled into dust.—Wm. Jennings Bryan.


For Comfort, Not for Food

A city missionary visited a poor old woman in a city attic, whose scanty pittance was scarcely sufficient for her bare subsistence. He observed in a broken teapot that stood on the window a strawberry plant growing. He remarked from time to time how it continued to grow, and with

what care it was watched and tended. "Your plant flourishes nicely; you will soon have strawberries on it." "Oh, sir, it is not for the sake of fruit I prize it, but I am too poor to keep any living creature, and it is a great comfort to have that plant living, for I know it can only live by the power of God, and as I see it live and grow day by day it tells me God is near." In like manner the rainbow reminds us of God's faithfulness.—Thinker.


A Wayside Flower

A lily by the wayside grew,
All alone;
And beamed in radiance on the few
Who passed the weary path along,
Dejected, sore, with ne'er a song
To cheer them.

It breathed its fragrance in the air,
This flower,
And gave the sunshine odor rare;
It led a pilgrim in surprise
To lift his vision to the skies
Above him.

And thus it lived its tranquil life
In silence.
It heeded not earth's stress and strife—
Just breathed forth purity awhile,
Then loosed its petals with a smile,
And vanished.—Frank Wilford.


The Season I Love Best

I love the Springtime with its leaves
And grass of dainty green
And flowers bursting all around
Of every shade and sheen.

I love the summer with its weight
Of ripened fruit and grain,
Its sighing winds and singing birds,
And silvery falling rain.

I love the Autumn with its wreath
Of rainbow tinted hills,
And Jack Frost hiding in the grass
And by the flowing rills.

But when King Winter comes along
And wraps the earth with snow—
The other seasons—I forget—
Because I love it so.—Alice Montgomery Barr.


A Time to Listen

Be still, and know that I am God.—Psalm 46:10.

When suddenly upon your sight
There bursts some marvel of God's hand—

A towering peak all glistening white,
Or canyon vast; or when you stand
Beside a lake with shadows deep,
Or in a grove of His big trees,
One moment listening silence keep;
God speaks to us from such as these.—Florence Aiken Banks.


The Father's Handiwork

When Dr. Bonnell asked if exploring the uncharted spaces did not give him a feeling of loneliness and insignificance, the astronomer replied very reverently: "No, there is nothing insignificant about man. Wherever I turn this telescope, I can trace my Heavenly Father's handiwork."—Selected.

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