Preachers Sermon Illustrations

Preachers Sermon Illustrations

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A Time to Shout

The construction boss was surveying the work on a tall building from his place on the street. Looking up he saw two men about to venture out on some unsupported timbers. Immediately he began to shout to them; "Get back there! Don't step on that timber. Hey, you fellows, haven't you any sense?" The man's great bellowing voice attracted the attention of a police officer several blocks away, who came running to the spot. "Here!" he called, "Can't you give orders without making all that noise? What are you doing, anyway?" "Just trying to keep some idiots up there from breaking their necks," was the reply. "What'd you want me to do, sing 'em to sleep?"The Lookout.


Pity the Preacher

A Texas paper comments as follows: "The preacher has a great time. If his hair is gray he is too old; if he is a young man he hasn't had experience enough; if he has ten children he has too many; if he has none he is not setting a good example. If his wife sings in the choir, she is presuming; if she doesn't she isn't interested in her husband's -work. If a preacher reads from notes he is a bore; if he speaks extemporaneously he isn't deep enough. If he stays at home in his study he does not mix enough with his people; if he is seen around on the streets he ought to be home getting out a good sermon. If he calls at the homes of the wealthy, he is an aristocrat; if he calls on the poor family, then he is playing to the grandstand. Whatever he does, someone could have told him to do better."

So pity the poor preacher.—The United Evangelical.


To Dying Men

It is said of a famous preacher that he always preached "as a dying man to dying men." It is such preaching that is always effective. A minister visiting a penitentiary one Saturday, was invited by the Christian warden to speak to the inmates the next day. That evening the minister felt impressed to go to the penitentiary and learn the details regarding the service. Noting two chairs draped in black in the main assembly room he inquired as to the reason. Said the warden, "These two chairs are draped for death. Your sermon will be the last these men will ever hear." You can realize that Browning and Emerson figured very little in the sermon that was delivered on that occasion. There are chairs in most audiences draped for death.The Toronto Globe.


Man-Centered Preaching

A layman who had been long from home, on his return made it his business to take his little girl to church with him regularly, that she might learn the way of Christ. After attending various churches he said that he seldom heard the name of Christ as Saviour pro­claimed, and his little girl several times asked him, "When is the preacher going to tell about Jesus?"—courtesy Moody Monthly.


"That Gives Me Peace"

Sainted Bishop Whipple of Minnesota sat by the sick bedside of a cultured, old judge in the Southland, talking in his scholarly way. At last the judge politely said, "Pardon me; but you know I'm facing the real things. Won't you talk to me like you'd talk to my black boy Jim?"

And the Bishop said quietly, "You're a sinner, like me. Jesus died for our sins. Trust Him as a little child." And the judge said, "Thank you, Bishop, I can get hold of that. That gives me peace."

When one faces the real things of life, or beyond, it's touch with the Man of the Calvary Hill that gives peace. —S. D. Gordon.


Ministers' Wives

A quiet observer sees many wise things, And that's why this writer so frequently sings:

He notes that since preachers have arduous lives,
God saves the best girls for ministers' wives.
She keeps down expenses and pays up their dues,
And cheers up her husband when he has the blues.
She tends her own babies and some others, too,
And nurses and cheers many sick women through.

She's here and she's there, all over the town,
With a bright, sunny smile and never a frown;
She coaxes wild fellows to slacken their pace,
Reform their habits and better the race,
Persuades the girls inclined to be flirts
To cover their necks and lengthen their skirts;
She's kind to the poor and nurses the sick.
And people say, "She's a regular brick!"

Her husband comes first in all of her plans,
Although she's a sister to every good man;
She tells him his sermon's a little too long,
And that Johnson's new clerk has been going wrong;
Her home is a refuge for all the oppressed,
And come when they may, they find her well dressed.
All classes declare she has blessed their lives,
And say that none equal these ministers' wives.

Don't pity your preacher, but pay him his dues,
And heed what he says and bury bad news;
Someday a great sorrow may come to your home,
And then you will find you are glad he has come.
And, if in your house some dear one should die,
He'll point the way plainly to Jesus on high;
His tender devotion, his prayer and his love
Will seem like a blessing from heaven above.

In public and private, you'll find him the same,
The friend of all classes, of whatever name;
He tries to be helpful, but sometimes he fails;
When he points out men's sins, he's often assailed.
Be fair in your judgment, be honest, sincere,
And no one will come to your heart quite so near;
If preachers are blessings, sometimes in disguise,
Remember it's due to these ministers' wives.—Howard W. Pope.

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