tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45903481182429934842024-08-29T20:18:53.544-07:00Bible study, Christian sermon, Free sermon illustration, Sermon outlines, Preaching, Sermon Illustration storyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1420125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-6550750858269177092014-02-02T18:55:00.001-08:002014-02-02T19:06:45.355-08:00

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-45210260887879745032013-06-03T19:49:00.003-07:002013-06-03T19:49:54.024-07:00

An old fable tells of a man cursed with the power of seeing other human beings, not in the beauty of flesh and blood, but as skeletons gaunt and grisly. Some saints seem to have taken upon themselves this curse. Do you feel that you are the only one who is right with the Lord—that everybody else is a spiritual skeleton because he is not of the same denominational stripe or has not the same

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-61916311764515830562013-06-03T19:48:00.001-07:002013-06-03T19:48:43.199-07:00

Many years ago in Germany, so the story goes, there lived a shoemaker who had a habit of speaking harshly of all his neighbors who didn’t think quite as he did about religion. The pastor of the parish in which he lived heard of this and felt he must give him a lesson. So he went to the shoemaker one morning and said, “Will you please take my measurements for a pair of boots?” “With pleasure,

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-3350273666900616962013-06-03T19:46:00.002-07:002013-06-03T19:46:36.765-07:00

The story is told of a man and an angel who were walking along together. The man was complaining about his neighbors. “I never saw such a wretched set of people,” he said, “as are in this village. They are mean, greedy, selfish, and careless of the needs of others. Worst of all, they are forever speaking evil of one another.” “Is it really so?” asked the angel. “It is, indeed,” said the man.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-87027239759600327292013-06-03T19:45:00.002-07:002013-06-03T19:45:57.837-07:00

What does the criticism of others do to our inner self? Take the case of Col. George Washington Goethals. While contending with the manifold problems of geography and climate in the building of the Panama Canal, he had to endure the carping criticism of countless busybodies back home who freely predicted he would never complete his task. But he pressed steadily forward in his work and said

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-59720884284467930232013-05-26T19:46:00.000-07:002013-05-26T19:46:12.636-07:00

An officer on the battlefield aimed his cannon toward what he thought was the distant enemy. Just before he fired, the commander, looking through his field glasses, shouted, “Your aim seems perfect, but stop! They are not the enemy; they are our own people.” Did you ever think that when you aim criticism at God’s people so thoughtlessly, you are actually aiming your cannon at the Lord of

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-64486120662366111662011-09-05T02:12:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:12:43.131-07:00

A man came up to Moody once and criticized him for the way he went about winning souls. Moody listened courteously and then asked, “How would you do it?” The man, taken aback, mumbled that he didn’t do it. “Well,” said Moody, “I prefer the way I do it to the way you don’t do it.”

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-45832224159560408932011-09-05T02:11:00.000-07:002011-09-05T02:11:17.268-07:00

A certain father was a chronic growler. He was sitting with his family in the presence of a guest in the parlor one day when the question of food came up. One of the children, a little girl, was telling the guest very cleverly what food each member of the family liked best. Finally it came to the father’s turn to be described. “And what do I like, Nancy?” he asked laughingly. “You,” said the

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-67248268384037135802011-09-05T02:10:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:10:22.887-07:00

Unfortunately, even among Christians there are those who are chronic grumblers. A woman of this type grumbled at everything and everybody. But at last the preacher thought he had found something about which she could make no complaint—the lady’s crop of potatoes was certainly the finest for miles around. “Ah, for once you must be pleased,” he said with a beaming smile as he met her in the village

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-78068206753919777332011-09-05T02:09:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:09:45.517-07:00

Robert Hall, the great Baptist preacher, used to be subject to occasions of great physical pain, in the course of which he would roll on the ground in sheer agony. When the pain was over, the first words he used to say were, “I hope I didn’t complain.” How much more effective our witness for Christ would be if we didn’t complain so much about our trials of faith.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-68621615996612601982011-09-05T02:08:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:08:39.828-07:00

A young man who was trying to establish himself as a peach grower had worked hard and invested all his money in a peach orchard. It blossomed wonderfully but then came a killing frost. He didn’t go to church the next Sunday, nor the next, nor the next. His minister went to see him to discover the reason. The young fellow exclaimed, “I’m not coming any more. Do you think I can worship a God who

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-46839916936672791672011-09-05T02:05:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:05:16.462-07:00

A large family sat around the table for breakfast one morning. As the custom was, the father returned thanks, blessing God for the food. Immediately afterward, however, as was his bad habit, he began to grumble about hard times, the poor quality of the food he was forced to eat, the way it was cooked, and much more. His little daughter interrupted him saying, “Father, do you suppose God heard

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-78164658387941778042011-09-05T02:04:00.002-07:002011-09-05T02:04:43.959-07:00

Henry Ward Beecher, while walking down a street, passed a newsboy shivering in the cold. Being moved with compassion toward him, the great preacher bought up all his newspapers, and when he handed over the money to him, he said, “Surely you are cold?” “I was,” replied the lad with a gulp, “till you passed, sir.”

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-81057057343747283722011-09-05T02:04:00.000-07:002011-09-05T02:04:11.153-07:00

During one of Mr. McKinley’s congressional campaigns he was followed from place to place by a reporter for a paper of the opposite political party. The reporter was one of those shrewd, persistent fellows who are always at work, quick to see an opportunity, and skilled in making the most of it. While Mr. McKinley was annoyed by the misrepresentation to which he was almost daily subjected, he

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-46368911486289530352011-09-05T02:03:00.002-07:002011-09-05T02:03:38.706-07:00

Each of us has certain legal rights in life. It is our privilege to insist that we enjoy every one of them. But in so doing we may commit moral wrong which would be injurious, not only to others, but also to ourselves and thus rob us of that most essential peace of heart. One of the apartments owned by a Christian landlord is rented by a widow with four children. Month after month, as a result of

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-11415344164872636852011-09-05T02:03:00.000-07:002011-09-05T02:03:07.636-07:00

During a spelling contest in which the prize was a fine Bible, the contestants were finally reduced to two—Betty, the daughter of a poor, hard-working widow, and Susan, the daughter of a well-to-do farmer. The sympathy of the school was with the poor girl. Finally Susan misspelled a word, and Betty won the coveted prize. Going home, Susan’s mother said to her daughter, “Couldn’t you have spelled

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-89078876383668450282011-09-05T02:02:00.001-07:002011-09-05T02:02:19.599-07:00

A young man was on the border of nervous collapse as he lay on the operating table. Among the nurses, he noticed one watching him intently. He thought he knew her and called her to him. “Yes,” she said, “We have met before.” Then he whispered, “Would you mind holding my hand?” She gripped it and he lay calmly waiting for the operation. What a strong thing sentiment is! It can conquer a man’s

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-21336193244523232522011-01-20T00:26:00.003-08:002011-01-20T00:26:36.586-08:00

Martin of Tours was a man in whom faith and works combined to make him a true Christian. One day he met a beggar who asked for alms. Martin didn’t have any money, but he saw that the beggar was freezing, so he gave him what he had. He took off his soldier’s overcoat, old and faded as it was, cut it in half, and wrapped half around the beggar. During the night Martin had a dream. He saw heaven

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-59955259957226623142011-01-20T00:26:00.001-08:002011-01-20T00:26:11.154-08:00

The word “pontiff,” used to designate the highest religious order of the Roman Catholic Church, namely the Pope, has an interesting history. This was the name which, in the old pagan religion of ancient Rome, was given to the chief priests. The pontiffs were those who were invested with pontifical power. The name as it was first applied meant “the makers of bridges.” Why it was used to designate

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-51451756401357111312011-01-20T00:25:00.001-08:002011-01-20T00:25:23.643-08:00

Queen Victoria was a close friend of Principal and Mrs. Tullock, of St. Andrews. Prince Albert died and Victoria was left alone. Just at the same time, Principal Tullock died and Mrs. Tullock was left alone. Quite unexpectedly, Queen Victoria came to call on Mrs. Tullock when she was resting on a couch in her room. The Queen stepped forward. “My dear,” she said, “don’t rise. I am not coming to

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-44901345026036705432011-01-20T00:24:00.001-08:002011-01-20T00:24:29.841-08:00

A well-to-do businessman gave a fine car to his brother. One day when the brother went to the place he’d parked the car, he saw a ragged boy looking the car over with great interest. Instead of saying, “Get away from that car, kid,” he smiled at the youngster. The boy was the first to speak. “Is that car yours, Mister?” “Yes, it is,” was the reply. “What did it cost?” was the next question. “

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-64315145816513858632011-01-20T00:22:00.004-08:002011-01-20T00:22:47.917-08:00

“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). Concerning this passage, an eloquent preacher of the past wrote: “Many persons are caught with the most superficial contradiction. In the second verse it says, ‘Bear ye one another’s burdens’; and in the fifth it says, ‘Every man shall bear his own burden.’ As if both of them could not be true! As if a man carrying a

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-10126040034609254022011-01-20T00:22:00.002-08:002011-01-20T00:22:23.241-08:00

I’ve been on both ends of this experience—the receiving and the giving. I remember when I first came to the United States from a warm climate. It was cold and I had no overcoat. How grateful I was to that servant of Christ, Melvin Wampler, who took off his coat and placed it on my shoulders. He went without so that I could be warm. In a similar manner I have often endeavored to do this for others

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-29867534130156593812011-01-20T00:22:00.000-08:002011-01-20T00:22:00.037-08:00

The St. Bernard dogs in the Alps who seek out travelers lost in a storm take their mission very seriously. One of these dogs returned late one afternoon, wearied from fighting his way through the drifts. He went to his kennel, lay down in a corner, and acted thoroughly despondent, despite the efforts of his master to encourage him. Was he sick? Well, no—not in body, but in heart. He had failed to

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4590348118242993484.post-90602353599271880012011-01-20T00:21:00.003-08:002011-01-20T00:21:32.682-08:00

A young man named John saw some ragged boys and invited them to Sunday school. One boy said he would go, but he had no coat. John gave him his coat and went in with him. Years afterward, a teacher of a Bible class told the story. A man in his class said, “I was that boy, and Dr. John G. Patton, one of the most famous missionaries of the ages, gave me his coat.”om

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com