Sermon Illustration

An old deacon was once asked about the state of his church. He replied, “We are in sad straits; the church is slipping back, getting worse all the time; but, thank the Lord, none of the other churches in our neighborhood is doing any better.”

It is a great discovery to know what we can do well; doing it well is the only way the whole body of Christ can function. Don’t be like that member of an orchestra who played the piccolo. Amid the thunder of the organ, and the roll of the drums, the player on the piccolo said to himself, “In all this din, my little instrument doesn’t matter,” and he ceased to play. Suddenly the great conductor threw up his arms, and all was still. “Where is the piccolo?” he cried. God listens for our share in His orchestra no matter how small that share may be.

If the body is ill, the head hurts, the body temperature is elevated, the heart races, the lungs labor, the skin flushes or cools as needed. The kidneys work overtime to filter out infection; the brain directs each organ and each function of the body to cooperate in throwing off the enemy and restoring the organism to health. This cooperation, this united effort against outside forces that invade the body, is an illustration of how the separate members of the Body of Christ ought to unite to work against threatening forces of evil.

A rural brother, considered a bit old-fashioned, visited a great city temple. As the eloquent minister drove home some great truth, the ruralite shouted, “Praise the Lord!” Whereupon an usher touched him on the arm and whispered, “Be quiet. “You can’t ‘praise the Lord’ in this church.” God pity both preacher and church!

An eminent preacher says, “I was walking in a beautiful grove where the trees were wide apart and the trunks were straight and rugged. But, as they ascended higher, the branches came closer together, and still higher the twigs and branches interlaced. I said to myself: Our churches resemble these trees. The trunks near the earth stand stiffly and rudely apart; the more nearly they ascend toward heaven, the closer they come together until they form one beautiful canopy, under which men enjoy both shelter and happiness. Those who have the Spirit of Christ will be likeminded.”

Hubert Brooke comments: “A selfish existence in one, who is in membership with many others, is a contradiction of terms, and must mean loss to all the rest, and misery to the idle member.” May not this explain the restless discontent of many who are really united to Christ? They are not subject to the Head; they are not using His gifts for the common profit; they keep for themselves what is given for all. In short, they are disobedient and dishonest, and therefore discontented and missing the joy of the Lord.

In the Old Testament, under God’s command, trumpets were used to call the princes and the congregation together, to announce the journeying of the camps, and as an alarm or notification device. Trumpets were also blown in the days of Israel’s “gladness,” “set feasts,” and over their sacrifices in the beginning of their months (Num. 10:1-6, 10). I believe that it is in this sense of gladness for the Church of Jesus Christ that this last trumpet will be blown. Can there be any more joyous event than this, when the dead in Christ shall be raised incorruptible, and living believers shall be similarly changed? The Lord’s trumpet will call all believers, dead and living, to join Him in possessing a glorious resurrection body.

I think that I shall never see A church that’s all it ought to be: A church whose members never stray Beyond the strait and narrow way; A church that has no empty pews, Whose pastor never has the blues, A church whose deacons always deak, And none is proud, and all are meek; Where gossips never peddle lies, Or make complaints or criticize; Where all are always sweet and kind, And all to others’ faults are blind. Such perfect churches there may be, But none of them are known to me. But still, we’ll work, and pray, and plan To make our own the best we can. —Author Unknown

Paul calls himself a wise architect because the foundation he laid was not different from the one eternally laid. How foolish an architect would be if he refused to follow the laws of nature and civil engineering which are actually the laws of God. You, too, are unwise if you diverge from the Church’s one Foundation, “Jesus Christ, and Him crucified,” laid down by God from the beginning.

As one member of the human body harmonizes its function with the other members, we must harmonize our individual functions in the Church with those of others. There is beauty in variety, even as there is a spiritual uplift from music that harmonizes a variety of instruments and voices. We must never get out of tune by harping on the one gift we consider ours. No one of us can act independently as a member of the body. We have to cooperate with other members if we are to be of any use to the body of Christ as a whole.

The body is a delicate instrument which needs to be looked after with great care. Yet many of us don’t value it as we should or take sufficient care of it. God has made each of us a living musical instrument, so to speak, capable of showing forth His praise. Each of us is like a harp of a thousand strings on which the most varied and beautiful music may be played. Every part of our body is skillfully constructed and admirably adapted to do its proper work. God has tempered or blended every organ to produce a harmonious whole. But this instrument is exceedingly liable to go wrong. The least thing spoils it and makes it unfit for its work. Unless it’s properly treated we can’t use it to the best advantage to glorify or show forth the perfect nature of God, its Architect and Creator. This is also true of the body of Christ, His Church. We are His members, diverse in our make-up and performance but duty-bound to blend our differences to produce harmonious music and praise that will attract...

The eye is placed in the upper area of the head, so that by virtue of its position it’s easy for it to entertain a high opinion of itself. The human hand drops down at the side of the body, so that it’s natural for the eye to look down upon it in both a literal and figurative sense. But the hand knows how to speak up and defend its usefulness. Suddenly a fly alights on the eye. Instantly and instinctively the hand elevates itself and brushes the fly away, saying, “Who said, Eye, that you don’t need me?” The hand goes on to plow the ground, sow the seed, and reap the harvest. It mills the wheat into flour and kneads the dough to make bread. Then it turns to the eye and says, “You, Eye, would have died long ago if it hadn’t been for my labor for you. Without the food I’ve earned, you’d have become sightless and starved to death. You can’t do without me any more than I can do without you.” Paul rightly says, “The eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee” (1 Cor. 12:21).

Seminary graduates are needed, and God can use them mightily, but Christ’s body is not to be served only by those who have 20-20 vision, but also by some myopic Christians who have to wear glasses. Is it any wonder that after two thousand years the Christian gospel is still unknown to three out of every four people in the world? It’s because the Church has become an organization devoted to uniformity instead of realizing that it should be an organism, a body that has a diversity of organs with varied gifts to serve the unified body of Christ. A lack of committed believers with no college education is just as deadly to the progress of the Church as a lack of seminary graduates.

In our physical bodies a toothache makes the whole body react in sympathy; the cessation of that ache makes the whole body give a sigh of relief. Why can’t it be that way in the Church? Is it because we’re so blind to the close and sympathetic union that Scripture enjoins between the members, that we allow the folly of selfishness to take the place of the wisdom of unselfishness?

That divisions exist in the body of Christ is apparent to everyone. The spirit of exclusive denominationalism is evidence of it. Denominations need not be schismatic; they need not cause the entire body of Christ to accomplish less than God intended it. All born-again believers are members of the same body, with God-created differences. We are not uniform, but we need not fight each other on that account; we are to care for all the members of Christ’s body equally. Isolationism kills the effectiveness of the body of Christ. Paul says in Romans 14:1, “Him that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations.”

Don’t be like that bishop of whom I heard. It seems a Baptist family had a death in the family while their minister was out of town. They asked a minister of another denomination to conduct the funeral service. He said he would have to check with the bishop, so he wired him, “Can I bury a Baptist?” The bishop wired back, “Sure, bury all the Baptists you can!”

The building is not really the Church. God’s people are. Yet the Church today spends more money for buildings than for anything else. When an artist was asked to paint a picture of a decaying church, to everyone’s astonishment, instead of putting on canvas an old, tottering ruin, the artist painted a stately edifice of modern grandeur. Through the open portals could be seen the richly carved pulpit, the magnificent organ, and the beautiful stained glass windows. To one side was an elaborately designed offering plate for foreign missions—covered by a cobweb!

A Christian once said to his minister, “I can worship God and enter into the Holy of Holies just as easily in my garden as I can in a church pew.” Later on the two men were sitting before a fireplace in which the embers glowed cheerily. Silently the minister went to the fireplace, took the tongs, and lifted a single glowing coal from the fire and placed it alone on the hearth. Soon it became black ash. The church-neglecting Christian said, “Ah, you need not say a word. I understand what you mean. I cannot worship alone any more than I can live alone. I’ll be in my place at the church next Sunday.” The environment of the church is basic to Christian growth, providing it’s the right kind of church. Ask yourself two questions before joining: Is Christ preeminent there? Is the Holy Spirit at work?

A Christian once said to his minister, “I can worship God and enter into the Holy of Holies just as easily in my garden as I can in a church pew.” Later on the two men were sitting before a fireplace in which the embers glowed cheerily. Silently the minister went to the fireplace, took the tongs, and lifted a single glowing coal from the fire and placed it alone on the hearth. Soon it became black ash. The church-neglecting Christian said, “Ah, you need not say a word. I understand what you mean. I cannot worship alone any more than I can live alone. I’ll be in my place at the church next Sunday.” The environment of the church is basic to Christian growth, providing it’s the right kind of church. Ask yourself two questions before joining: Is Christ preeminent there? Is the Holy Spirit at work?

There was a dear black saint of God who happened to enter a fashionable church. After the service he approached the preacher and told him that he wanted very much to join the church. The pastor knew that his consent to such a request would certainly not meet with the approval of the official board of the church and of the congregation. At the same time he did not want to appear cruel and harsh. So he said to this man, “John, go home and pray for two weeks for the Lord to guide you definitely whether He wants you to join this church.” Accordingly, humble John took the advice and went home. When the two weeks were up, he came again to the church, and after the service the preacher said to him, “John, what was the guidance of God?” “Sir,” John replied, “God told me that He has been trying to get in here for the past fifteen years and He hasn’t succeeded, so I had better give up trying where God cannot find entrance.”