Worship Sermon Illustrations

Worship Sermon Illustrations

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My God, how wonderful Thou art, Thy majesty how bright!
How beautiful Thy mercy-seat in depths of burning light!

How dread are Thine eternal years, O everlasting Lord!
By prostrate spirits, day and night, incessantly adored.

How wonderful, how beautiful the sight of Thee must be,
Thine endless wisdom, boundless power and awful purity!

O how I fear Thee, living God, with deepest, tenderest fears,
And worship Thee with trembling hope and penitential tears!

Yet I may love Thee too, 0 Lord, Almighty as Thou art,
For Thou hast stooped to ask of me the love of my poor heart.

No earthly father loves like Thee; no mother, e'er so mild,
Bears and forbears as Thou hast done with me, Thy sinful child.—F. W. Faber

(Ps. 96. 9; John 4. 23-25)

Worship and Worshippers

Night-watchmen, vigilant, devout—
Successors in the Shepherd line
Of martyrs, prophets, kings—were out
Among the hills of Palestine.
Amazed, they saw Heav'n's sons of flame,
And sought and found th'Incarnate Lord,
And Shepherd-Chief, of fairest Name;
They watched Him, worshipped and adored.

Aged Simeon, with inward sight
Illumined, and with power endowed,
Held in his arms the One Whose might
Upheld all things. 'Fore Him there bowed
The hearts of all that remnant-race
That feared the Lord, and oft made tryst
With one another. Now in grace
Their gladdened eyes beheld the Christ.

And from the sunny East were drawn
The sages by His magnet-love.
And Joseph's home with treasure shone,
And worship rose to God above.
Their gifts they joyfully unveiled:
Pure, burnished gold of Ophir's kind,
While frankincense and myrrh exhaled
And incense sweet—'twas LOVE enshrined.—A. Soutter

(Matt. 2. 1-11; Luke 2. 8-16; 28)

We adore Thee, Sinless One!
For the battle fought and won,
For the thorn-crown on Thy brow,
For the crown Thou wearest now;

For the hands nailed to the tree,
Hands that opened Heaven for me:
Sacred feet pierced through for sin,
Side that let the red spear in.

We adore Thee for the blood
Sprinkled by the Throne of God,
Blood that bathed a crimson tide—
Brow and hands and feet and side.

Blood that o'er my sins doth flow,
Making me as white as snow,
Shed for me when Jesus died.
We adore Thee, Crucified!

(Rev. 1. 5, 6; 5. 9, 10)

A distinguished explorer spent a couple of years among savages of the Upper Amazon. He attempted a forced march through the jungle at an extraordinary speed. All went well for two days. On the third morning all the natives were sitting on their haunches looking very solemn. The Chief explained: 'They're waiting for their souls to catch up with their bodies.'—James Truslow Adams

(Num. 8. 24; 1 Chron. 6. 32; John 4. 24)

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