Sermon Illustration

“From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matt. 4:17). J. R. Miller writes the following on this passage of Scripture: “Christ’s first call of His ministry, like John the Baptist’s was a call to repentance. All men need to repent. We never can reach the gates of heaven unless we repent. The prodigal son had to rise and leave the far country, and walk back all the painful way to his father’s house, before he could be restored to favor and be at home again. That is what every impenitent man and woman must do. The first step in coming to Christ is repentance. “We must be sure that we know just what this word means. Some people imagine that if they are sorry for doing wrong they have repented. But sorrow for a wrong way does not take us out of that way. Tears of penitence will not blot out sin; we must turn about and walk in holy paths. Repentance is ceasing to make blots on the record, and beginning to live a fair, clean, white l...

The hell to which the dissipation of strong drink leads could hardly be more graphically illustrated than by a story which the Bishop of London told of the way the children of the drunken poor reason from the horrible experiences of their own sad lives. A little London girl from the slums was being examined on the parable of the Prodigal Son. The teacher had gotten as far as the repentance of the prodigal, and his eating of the swinehusks, when she inquired, “What else could he have done?” The child replied, evidently speaking out of her experience, “He could have pawned his little girl’s boots!”

To repent is to begin over again in devotion to the better thing we should have done. That is the very alpha of the gospel. And we begin over again not with tears but with joy. The very sins and blunders of the past may be caught up into some divine atonement that may make grace and joy to abound. That is the omega of our gospel. When sin abounded, grace did much more abound (Rom. 5:20).

A man and his wife, nominal Roman Catholics, living in one of the darkest spots of London, were induced to attend one of Dr. Pentecost’s meetings. No words could describe the brutal character of the man: his poor wife was quite blind from his ill-treatment. He listened with intense astonishment, and his conscience became more and more aroused. On being asked if he and his wife would like to have the question of sin settled, he was shown into the inquiry room, holding by the hand his sightless wife. On leaving the inquiry room, she remarked: “True, my sight is gone, but the Lord has given me back my husband; for it was the drink made him do it.”

During a series of evangelistic services in Ireland, I spoke to a young man who was deeply convicted of sin. I showed him from the Bible God’s word for him, and he accepted it with the same faith he had exercised in believing the word against him. The effect was similar in both cases: feeling followed, and was the result of believing the news. On his knees he thanked God; then he pressed my hand and thanked me for “helping” him, and went on his way rejoicing. Three nights after, to my surprise and disappointment, I found him sitting in the inquiry meeting looking the picture of misery. “What’s wrong?” I said. “I was too precipitate the other night; there is no change in me.” “No, sir; that is not the reason. You have not confessed Christ.” He almost jumped up with amazement. “How do you know? Who told you?” “Nobody told me, nor needed to tell me. When a man goes away trusting one night, and comes back doubting the next, it is an infallible sign that he has not confessed Christ.” He t...

One evening, in 1859, a young schoolmaster, intent only on fun and frolic, went to a prayer-meeting. He heard asked in the most solemn manner, the startling question: “How shall you escape if you neglect so great a salvation?” “Well, truly,” he said in his own mind, “that is a puzzle. I am neglecting the great salvation. I cannot escape.” He walked slowly home. He would like to be a Christian, he thought; but how could he? He must give up his wicked companions. How they would laugh at him if he did not go to the same places, and lead the same life as before! And then, if he took his stand among Christians, he would fall back again into sin; and what disgrace he would bring upon religion! A still small voice whispered to him: “My grace is sufficient for thee.” Then and there, on the road, on that calm summer night, he resolved, to use his own words, “to leave himself in the hands of Jesus, and set to his duty cheerfully.”

An American physician stated that he had known a hundred or more instances, in his practice, of people who, in prospect of death, had been hopefully converted, but had afterwards recovered. Of all these he only knew of three who devoted themselves to the service of Christ when they got well. An English doctor once told that he had known three hundred sick people profess repentance and faith when they thought they were dying, but who afterwards recovered. Only ten of these gave evidence of reality by a change of life.

George Whitefield had a brother, who had lived far from the ways of godliness; and one afternoon he was sitting in a room in a chapel house. He had heard his brother preach the day before, and his poor conscience had been cut to the very quick. Said Whitefield’s brother, when he was at tea: “I am a lost man,” and he groaned and cried, and could neither eat nor drink. Said Lady Huntingdon, who sat opposite: “What did you say, Mr. Whitefield?” “Madam,” said he, “I said I am a lost man.” “I’m glad of it,” said she; “I’m glad of it.” “Your ladyship, how can you say so? It is cruel to say you are glad that I am a lost man.” “I repeat it, sir,” said she; “I am heartily glad of it.” He looked at her, more and more astonished at her barbarity. “I am glad of it,” said she, “because it is written, ‘The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost.’” With the tears rolling down his cheeks, he said: “What a precious Scripture; and how is it that it comes with such force to me? O! Madam,...

In every building the first stone must be laid and the first blow must be struck. The ark was 120 years in building; yet there was a day when Noah laid his axe at the first tree he cut down to form it. The temple of Solomon was a glorious building; but there was a day when the first huge stone was laid at the foot of Mount Moriah. When does the building of the Spirit really begin to appear in a man’s heart? It begins, so far as we can judge, when he first pours out his heart to God in prayer. —Bishop J. C. Ryle

I read of a boy that left home to make a way for himself in the world. As many before him, so had he wasted his substance, and the inevitable time of reckoning came. He sought assistance from friends and companions, but in a little while they all grew tired of helping him. In his last distress he determined to write home. “Dear Father,” the pathetic appeal ran, “I am ill and undone. I have been foolish and sinful and have forgotten the spirit of your home. I want to get well, live right and be a man. But I cannot unless you help me. I deeply need your help, and I think you love me enough to forgive all, and to help me now. Will you come?” The next train found that father speeding on his way to his needy son, to put his strength, his character, his resources at the service of the son who was to be placed once more on the road to manhood. That father was a paraclete, a called one, a friend that soothes and strengthens and inspires. It was in this sense that the Greeks used the word “para...

Reformation is no more the whole of Christianity than cultivation constitutes the whole of successful farming. A farmer may plow and harrow his ground every day of the summer and not permit a single weed to grow; that would be a high state of cultivation; but if he plants no seed in his field he will gather no crop in the autumn. Simply ridding your life of the weeds of undesirable habits, without planting the seeds of Christianity in your heart-garden, is as great a folly as for a farmer to cultivate his ground all summer and sow no seed. Repentance pulls up the weeds now growing and plants the seeds of righteousness. The man who attempts to improve by reforming is whitewashing his life, while the one who repents washes white his life, and there is a vast difference between the two processes. Morality can never save anybody. Painting the pump does not kill the typhoid germs and purify the water in the well. You may have literary circles and culture clubs, Carnegie libraries and school...