Resurrection Sermon Illustrations

Resurrection Sermon Illustrations

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The Note of Triumph

That useful and beloved Jewish-Christian, the Rev. Joseph S. Flacks, who passed to glory recently, mailed on the very day of his death the following post card message to friends:

TRIUMPHANT THROUGH GRACE

This is to announce: I moved out of the old mud house (II Cor. 5:1) ; arrived in Glory-land instantly, in charge of the angelic escort (Luke 16:22); absent from the body, at home with the Lord (II Cor. 5:6).

I find, as foretold (Psa. 16:11), "in thy presence fullness of joy ... pleasures for evermore!"

Will look for You on the way up at the redemption of the body (Rom. 8:23). Till then look up.

J. S. FLACKS.Sunday School Times.


"You'll Get Me Back"

From the pen of a missionary writer comes this beautiful story. A faithful missionary in distant Korea sat by the bedside of his dying wife. For fifteen years they had toiled together in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And now her summons had come. The heartbroken husband sat waiting for the end. She knew what the parting meant to him. She realized the keenness of his suffering. So, with her last thought an unselfish one for him, she left him this last message of eternal comfort, "Do not grieve for me, my dear. You'll get me back; you'll get me back." A month passed and the grief-stricken husband sat by the same bedside watching the spirit of their only child, a little four­year-old boy, take its flight to the same Lord to whom the darling mother had gone. Again the father's heart was crushed. Again he faced a parting which meant untold anguish to him. But the little fellow had the same message as his mother for the sorrowing father. "Don't cry, daddy," said he. "Don't cry. Daddy, I see a great, shining light. It's coming nearer, daddy, it's coming nearer. And daddy, it's mudder; it's mudder! And I want to go, I want to go. But don't cry, daddy, don't cry. You'll get me back; you'll get me back!" A few days later the stricken father was riding in the funeral train behind the body of his dead boy. From behind the curtains of the chair in which he was being borne by the natives he heard the voice of a woman weeping. Presently the voice of another Korean woman spoke up and said, "Why are you weeping?" The sorrowing woman answered, "I am weeping for the foreigner who has lost his little boy." "Don't weep for the foreigner; weep for yourself, woman," came the answer. "You have lost a little girl, and you will never get her back. I have lost a little boy, and I shall never get him back. But let me tell you something. These foreigners have a strange way of getting back their dead!" And then as the stricken father laid the white lily upon the coffin of his little one, he bowed his head before his Lord and gave himself anew to Him to preach to these heathen people that blessed Gospel of Jesus Christ which would give back their dead to all who believe in Him as Saviour and Lord of the glory that is one day to come with Him. For he knew that if death came he would go to them, but if resurrection first, they would come to him.Gospel Herald.


A Voice from the Other World

I knew a young man who was an infidel. He told me that he did not sympathize with my belief in God; he did not even believe in a future state. He said, "When I die I am going to dust, and that will be the end of me." He had a Christian mother, who had long prayed for him. One day he came home from his office about noon and said, "Mother, I feel fatigued; I think I will lie down till lunch is ready"; so he lay down and fell asleep. At one o'clock she spoke to him and said, "We are ready to sit down at the table." but she could not waken him. She shook him violently, but she could not rouse him. He was in a comatose state, and there was no perceptible pulse. He sank lower and lower until his breathing also was scarcely perceptible. They sent at once for a physician, who came in, examined his pulse, listened to his heart, made a thorough examination, but said, "I can do nothing for him; you will just be compelled to leave him as he is. He may come out of it, and he may not." He went away. About five o'clock in the afternoon, as they were sitting around him, simply watching the last rays of flickering life, he opened his eyes, looked around, saw his mother, and stretched out his hand to her. He said, "Mother, what you taught me is all true; there is a future life. I have been treading along the verge of another world, and been looking over into that other world. Mother, it is all true!" He shut his eyes and died.

God allowed him to come back from the other world just long enough to assure that mother who had trained him in the true faith, that he saw at the last his error and abandoned his infidelity, and then he passed away.—Arthur T. Pierson.


When Death Must Yield

A radio preacher, speaking recently of God's resurrection power, spoke this word of comfort: "You may be taken to the Potter's Field. But never fear; if you are a saint of God, the trumpet will locate you." And it will not be a long, difficult hunt for God, for "in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we (who are living when the Lord comes) shall be changed." Thank God for the locating trumpet! Better still, thank God for the Lord who seeks and saves that which is lost, even the dead bodies of those whose souls have been with Him.Sunday School Times.


An Easter Poem

Should saints fear death since Christ arose
And took away its sting and woes,
And broke its sway and power?
Can death bear off on pinioned wing,
The spirit of the saints will sing?
Or, can it knowledge take away,
And leave them in oblivion's sway
For e'en one passing hour?
Nay, death can only hope the door
That points the way to Heaven's shore,
To glory and to power.

But, o'er our bodies which decay
Does death hold unremittent sway
Forever and forever?
Nay, disembodied though we be,
Our bodies shall from dust be free;
The sun goes down to rise again,
The parched ground revives with rain,
And shall we rise, no, never?
Lo, Jesus rose, we too shall rise
And raptured mount the vaulted skies
Where naught from him shall sever.—R. E. Neighbour, D.D.


Better Than a Dead Bone

When in South Africa I heard a colored Christian give an address. This is an illustration he used: "When a heathen is dying, the witch doctors put in his hand a dead bone as a passport into the world beyond. But we do not grasp a dead bone as we pass through the veil. We grasp the hand of the living Lord."—Rev. H. Lees.

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