Sermon Illustration

One of the greatest servants of Christ was Dr. Temple in England. A young clergyman who was being sent by Dr. Temple to a very difficult parish turned to him and said, “Dr. Temple, why do you send me there? Don’t you know how difficult it is? It’ll kill me if I go there.” You know what Dr. Temple’s reply was? “Well, you and I do not mind a little thing like that, do we? If what God has set for us to accomplish will require our lives, we should be willing to give our lives.”

An incident is related of a missionary who came into contact with a proud and powerful Indian chief. The chief, trembling under conviction of sin, approached the missionary and offered his belt of wampum as atonement. “No!” said the missionary, “Christ cannot accept a sacrifice like that.” The Indian departed, but soon returned offering his valuable rifle and the most beautiful skins he had taken in hunting. “No!” was the reply, “Christ cannot accept those either.” Again the Indian went away, only to return with a conscience more troubled than ever. This time he offered his wigwam, together with his wife and child—everything for peace and pardon. “No,” was the reply even to this, “Christ cannot accept such a sacrifice.” At this the chief seemed utterly oppressed; but suddenly he somehow sensed the deficiency, for, lifting up tearful eyes, he cried out, “Here, Lord, take this poor Indian too!” That is the only condition for fellowship with Christ.

A converted native was to be baptized in a river. The missionary took a long spear with him into the swift current to steady himself. Inadvertently he stabbed the foot of the convert beneath the water. The man neither spoke nor moved. After the ceremony when the accident was discovered, the convert was asked why he had kept silent. “I thought it was part of the ceremony,” he replied. In a way he was right. Baptism should be an external expression of willingness to suffer for the Lord Jesus Christ in whose Name the believer is baptized.

“How much is your salary?” a Muslim asked a mission school teacher who had once followed the crescent instead of the cross. “Five dollars a week,” was the answer. “Why, you could get ten times that in a government school!” “Yes, but I do not teach for money; I teach for God.” “Well—are those all the clothes the missionaries provide? Don’t you have a robe also?” The humble teacher looked down at his cotton shirt and trousers. “No, these are sufficient,” he replied. The Muslim shook his head. “I never thought there was anything to this Jesus religion,” he observed thoughtfully, “but there must be if a man will give up his robe and his lawful wage for it.” Could it be that the gospel is impeded because we are more concerned about food and clothing than reaching others with the gospel of the grace of God? This is what Christ meant when He said, “Woe unto you that are full!”

The gatekeeper at the railroad station demanded that everybody present his ticket before going through the gate to the train. From those who could not find their tickets readily there was much grumbling and swearing. One watching the scene said to the gatekeeper, “You don’t seem to be very popular with the crowd.” He cast his eyes upward to the floor above, where the superintendent’s office was, and said, “I don’t care anything about being popular with this crowd; all I care about is to be popular with my superior.”

Chrysostom, the ancient Church Father, was a beautiful example of true Christian courage. When he stood before the Roman Emperor, he was threatened with banishment if he still remained a Christian. Chrysostom replied, “You cannot, for the world is my Father’s house; you cannot banish me.” “But I will slay you,” said the Emperor. “No, but you cannot,” said the noble champion of the faith again, “for my life is hid with Christ in God.” “I will take away thy treasures.” “No, but you cannot,” was the retort; “in the first place, I have nothing you know anything about. My treasure is in heaven, and my heart is there.” “But I will drive you away from man, and you shall have no friend left.” “No, and that you cannot,” once more said the faithful witness, “for I have a Friend in heaven from whom you shall not separate me. I defy you; there is nothing you can do to hurt me.”

“Baptized for the dead” (1 Cor. 15:29) does not mean that living believers could be baptized in place of those who had died unbaptized. What Paul was actually seeking to convey here is that only those who were willing to be identified with the dead in martyrdom for Christ’s sake, as well as with Christ in His death and resurrection, could be described as “those baptized for the dead.” But why does Paul use the words “for the dead?” Let us examine this phrase carefully. The first word, “for,” is huper in Greek, which basically means “over” or “ above.” The literal translation of this phrase would be “baptized over the dead”; that is to say admitted publicly into the visible Church of Christ, as if the dead bodies of those who were similarly admitted into the Church before them and had died for Christ were lying beneath their feet. Metaphorically, it means in the prospect of death and as a continuance of the testimony of those who have heroically died for the faith. Compare what happen...

The history of missions is full of examples of Christian manliness. We think of Dr. Paul Carlson who served as a medical missionary in the Congo. He compassionately sought to heal the most loathsome of tropical diseases as he preached Christ as the only cure for sin. For several years he worked in the midst of increasing political ferment, preaching and living the gospel in which he so wholeheartedly believed. Even when he was arrested, he continued to treat the wounds of the rebels who had captured him. Under sentence of death, he bore himself heroically and died boosting another missionary over the wall to safety. The prevailing attitude of missionaries everywhere seems to be summed up in the words of one mission board secretary who commented, “It shows merely that we must go back.”

A wealthy university graduate chose to live frugally in a single room, cooking his own meals. As a result he was able to give two million dollars to foreign missions. In explanation of his choice he wrote these words: “Gladly would I make the floor my bed, a box my chair, and another box my table, rather than men should perish for want of knowledge of Christ.” I am not suggesting that all Christians are called upon to forfeit the normal comforts of life; only, when God calls them to a life of sacrifice, they be willing to leave all and follow Him.

Sophie, the scrub woman, was a Christian. One of the gentlemen in the large building where she worked said to her, “Say, Sophie, I understand that you are a Christian.” “Yes, sir, I am a child of the King,” was her immediate reply. “Oh! So you must be a princess, since God is your King.” “I sure am.” “Well, if God is your Father, and you are a princess and a child of the King, do you not think that it is beneath your dignity to be found here in New York City scrubbing these dirty steps?” Not being daunted Sophie replied, “There is no humiliation whatsoever. You see, I am not scrubbing these steps for my boss, Mr. Brown. I am scrubbing them for Jesus Christ, my Savior!”

In 1925, Betty Stam said: “Lord, I give up my own purposes and plans, all my own desires, hopes, and ambitions, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee, to be Thine forever. I hand over to Thy keeping all of my friendships; all the people whom I love are to take second place in my heart. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Work out Thy whole will in my life, at any cost, now and forever. To me to live is Christ. Amen.” Nine years later on December 8, 1934, Betty and her husband, John Stam, calmly and bravely laid down their lives for Christ when they were martyred by Chinese Communists.

A missionary society was deeply impressed by the courageous devotion of David Livingstone who worked single-handedly for God in Africa. The society wrote to Livingstone: “Have you found a good road to where you are? If so, we want to send other men to join you.” Livingstone replied, “If you have men who will come only if there is a good road, I don’t want them. I want men who will come if there is no road at all.”

The moment that Moses came to years of discretion, we read that he “refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter.” Take that as the starting-point of the life of service. If your circumstances are making it impossible for you to carry out what would otherwise be the will of God, then drop your circumstances as Moses did; it rests with you to do it. Refuse any longer to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. You have been in the courts of men; you may have stood high in the favor of the people of this world, and your heirship may look exceedingly brilliant: you must chose whether you will take the heavenly inheritance or the earthly.

Christ never asks for anything we cannot do. But let us not forget that He always does expect and require of each of us the best we can do. The faithfulness Christ wants and approves implies the doing of all our work, our business, our trade, our daily toil, as well as we can. Let no one think that religion does not apply to private life. It applies to the way you do your most common work just as readily as to your praying and keeping of the commandments. Whatever your duty is, you cannot be altogether faithful to God unless you do your best. To slur any task is to do God’s work badly; to neglect it is to rob God. The universe is not quite complete without your work well done, however small that work may be. —J. R. Miller

Consecration is only possible when we give up our will  about everything.  As soon as we come to the point of giving ourselves to God, we are almost certain to become aware of the presence of one thing, if not of more, out of harmony with His will. Every room and cupboard in the house, with the exception of one, is thrown open to the new Occupant; every limb in the body but one is submitted to the practiced hand of the good Physician. But that small reserve spoils the whole. To give ninety-nine parts and to withhold the hundredth undoes the whole transaction. Jesus will have all or none. Who would live in a fever-stricken house so long as one room was not exposed to disinfectants, air, and sun? Who would become responsible for a bankrupt person so long as one ledger was kept back? The reason that so many fail to attain the blessed life is that there is some one point in which they hold back from God, and concerning which they prefer to have their own way and will...

Human life is character-building; for remember that character means exactly what we are, while reputation is only what other people think we are. Every man builds his own character. Fix one fact in your mind, however, and that is, the better and stronger Christian you are, the more dearly you must pay for it. All the best things are costly. Jesus Christ laid down His life to redeem you from sin and death. “Free grace” for you meant Calvary for Christ. A strong, godly character is not to be had without cost.

At Harper’s Ferry on one occasion the flood in the Potomac was so great that it threatened the destruction of the costly railroad bridge, which was seen to shake in its unsteadiness. When everybody present was looking each moment to see the bridge go down, President John W. Garrett, of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, arrived upon the scene.

Two plowshares were made from the same pig iron. One was sold to a farmer who used it constantly. The other remained on the shelf of the hardware store, unsold until it was covered with rust. The farmer brought his worn-out share to get another like it. The rusty share was brought out, and there was its brother shining like a silver mirror. “How is it,” the rusty one asked, “that your life has been so wearing and yet has made you so beautiful? Once we were alike: I have grown ugly in spite of my easy life.” “That is it,” replied the shining share, “the beautiful life is the sacrificial life.”

“I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have  committed  unto Him”  ( 2 Tim. 1:12 ). On the point of faith’s committal to God, Russell Sturgis has told a very beautiful story in illustration. A party of visitors at the national mint were told by a workman in the smelting-works that if the hand be dipped in water the ladle of molten metal might pour its contents over the palm without burning it. A gentleman and his wife heard the statement. “Perhaps you would like to try it?” said the workman. The gentleman said, shrinking back, “No, thank you. I prefer to accept your word for it!” Then turning to the lady, he said: “Perhaps, Madame, you would make the experiment.” “Certainly,” she replied; and suiting the action to the word, she bared her arm and thrust her hand into a bucket of water, and calmly held it out while the metal was poured over it. Turning to the man, the workman quietly said: “You, sir,  believed ...

The world-famous evangelist, D. L. Moody, before he had discovered his special gift, went to a Sunday-school superintendent and asked if he could use him for service. The answer was, if he could gather a class for himself, he might teach it in the school. On the first Sunday he picked up eighteen boys from the streets, and continued in this work till all the boys in the streets seemed to run after him. He soon filled up two or three schools with boys of this class, and then started a school for himself. Obtaining the use of the City Hall in Chicago, he filled it with 800 boys, and taught them himself, with no help but that of a singer, and nearly all of them were converted.