An illustration is like a row of footlights that shed light on what is presented on the stage. If you turn the lights onto the audience, they blind the people.
Haddon Robinson
The greatest convincer preached with stories — a woman’s lost coin, treacherous renters, faithful servants. The simple stories communicated to depths that profound propositions would never reach.
Even the gospel itself is a story — a living (and dying and living again) illustration.
What preachers gather and swap and treasure like stamp collectors, they also want to use effectively: their sermon illustrations. But how? How can a preacher know when enough yarns have been spun? At what point does an entertaining illustration bully the text out of the spotlight? When is an illustration demanded? And when does one demean?
Mark Littleton is a Christian communicator who has asked those questions and arrived at some answers — answers he utilized in his former pastorate at Berea Baptist Church in Glen Burnie, Maryland, and answers now used in his writing ministry. Having made the common mistakes and learned from them, he offers his observations in the following chapter.
Anyone who must preach two different sermons on Sunday and a third on Wednesday, plus teach, give children’s sermons, and offer “a few words” here, there, and everywhere, knows the power of good illustrations. They bring fresh air to musty monologues. They grab the heart as well as the head. They help apply truth to life.
That’s why I collect, make up, steal, borrow, and beg them from everyone. My three-by-five card file of illustrations is so cherished I keep a picture of it in my wallet to show friends.
“Get a load of this baby,” I say. “Beautiful tan finish, full of laughter and babble, always ready to raise a smile. Everything from anecdotes to zoology. Of course, there are the occasional messes and 2 a.m. feedings, but it’s all worth it.”
Even more crucial then keeping the box full is the problem of use: How do I match the right illustration with the right situation? Too often we hear a good joke and instantly begin sniffing for a place to tell it. Any time will do, so long as it occurs in next Sunday’s sermon. We fall into the pit of depending more on our stories than the power of God’s Word and Spirit to hold the listener.
At that point, our illustrations block rather than bring understanding. After all, there is a difference between the almost right illustration and the right one. As Mark Twain said, “The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and the lightning bug.”
Getting the Right Illustration
Three questions are useful in determining an illustration’s efficiency:
Does my point need an illustration? I’m the type who’s terrified of being boring, so I’ve learned to think in analogies and anecdotes. Sometimes I overdo it. If the people understand my point and don’t need further clarification, why use up my ammo? No need to shoot dead geese. My temptation is that if I’ve got a good story, I want to use it now, and if I’ve got two good stories, quotes, or poems, I want to use them both. (Once I got lost in one point with five illustrations. It was fun but foolish.) Life is too short and sermons too long to heap on the burning coals.
So in preparing a sermon, I simply ask, “When I struggled to understand this idea, did I have to create an illustration to explain it? Did I find myself saying, ‘For example …’?” This almost always happens when I have something abstract, cerebral, or theological at hand.
Recently in a sermon from Ephesians on “redemption through his blood,” I wanted to make the point that not even “good” people are acceptable candidates for heaven on the basis of their goodness. The natural question was “Why not?” All sorts of abstract answers swirled in my head, but I needed to distill the vaporous abstractions into something my size. My mind roamed over all kinds of things — personal experiences, quotes, analogies.
Finally, I remembered a friend’s bargain with his children, who resisted eating their vegetables. He and his wife decided to let the kids have one “most-hated” vegetable they would never have to eat. But they had to eat the rest without argument. Mealtimes improved noticeably.
Suppose God gave us all one most-hated commandment and allowed us to ignore that one in heaven. We would, of course, have to obey the rest. Heaven with people just one law less than perfect would be no better than earth. This analogy made the need for redemption clear to me and, hopefully, to the congregation.
Another way to determine whether a point needs illustrating is to try it out on a friend, spouse, or fellow minister. “Do you understand this point?” If our explanation leaves them cold, start searching for illustrations.
Many times, however, a point is clear, and illustrations only clutter the issue. Often the Bible provides its own word picture to explain the truth. Added ingredients, like day-old manna, can turn wormy and stink, spoiling the impact of an already powerful message.
What is my purpose or goal for this point? What do I want to do with an illustration? Consider some legitimate purposes — and some scriptural examples.
1. To clarify a point — Jesus’ parables of the lost coin and sheep.
2. To show a real-life application — much of the Sermon on the Mount.
3. To convict of sin — Nathan’s parable to David of the poor man’s sheep.
4. To inspire and move to action — the parables of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan.
5. To convince someone of truth — Paul reminding the Athenians of “the unknown god.”
6. To make truth memorable — Jesus’ unique sayings, such as the camel passing through the eye of a needle.
Pinpointing my purpose helps me see what I want the illustration to accomplish. If I want to convict of sin, I am not going to use a light, inspirational story. I must speak in specific terms of sins people in my congregation may not be aware they are committing. Several times I have confused people by telling something funny in the midst of a serious point, and everyone got off track. A serious illustration would have been much wiser.
What kind of illustration best suits my purpose? To answer this third question, I consult my files, library, friends, and memory for quantity. Then I select the best one on the basis of quality. That is one reason I believe in gathering illustrations by the bale. Quantity usually yields quality.
Certain general categories fit certain purposes. For instance, analogies and made-up stores are often excellent to enlighten. Object lessons, anecdotes, cross-references, and word studies are also good.
Sometimes, on the other hand, something light is necessary. In one sermon I wanted to say our world would never have peace until Jesus returned. I knew some people would take a dim view of that. I needed something light but enlightening. I tried a story about a dour Englishman seated on a train between two ladies arguing about the window. One claimed she would die of heat stroke if it weren’t opened. The other said she would expire of pneumonia if it didn’t stay closed. The ladies called the conductor, who didn’t know how to solve the problem. Finally, the gentleman spoke up. “First, open the window. That will kill the one. Then close it. That will kill the other. Then we will have peace.” Everyone in the congregation, regardless of political stripe, could appreciate the story.
To move people to action, several ingredients are necessary. First, the proposed action must be clear. That means many quickie examples of how to do what you are asking. Often, this is preceded by “like.” “Like when your mother-in-law says …” Second, the illustration must end with a clear exhortation. Give an example of a person who responded correctly. People need positive illustrations of what they’re to do.
To convict a congregation of something — sin, personal need, lostness — there is a different route: The listener must identify with the illustration. Personal experiences are valuable here as well as situations and roleplays — anything that involves people with the story.
For instance, I wanted my congregation to see the need for trust in God even when they don’t know all the hows and whys. I told about my diphtheria/tetanus shot when I was seven years old.
“It won’t hurt,” the doctor assured me. “Just keep thinking It’s not going to hurt, and everything will be OK.”
But it did hurt. My arm was still sore the next day, and I demanded an explanation from my mother. Why did I have a sore arm?
She couldn’t explain the physiological causes of my pain, nor could she explain to my satisfaction how the vaccine could prevent diphtheria. Finally she said, “Mark, I know you don’t understand, but you do know I love you, and this shot was something we had to do to protect you.”
Because I trusted my mom, I was able to accept the pain.
The people in the congregation could identify — most had experienced the same feelings. Deep inside, they knew the difference between trust and understanding — and that trust sometimes must precede knowledge. But the illustration brought to the surface what they already knew down deep.
In order to convince, an illustration must have authority. Sources with unquestioned authority — scientific reports, research, statistics, quotes from well-known people — may not absolutely prove the point, but most people find them convincing.
Finally, if the purpose is to make a point memorable, other elements are crucial: simplicity, uniqueness, usefulness, truthfulness, and most of all, vividness. An Arab proverb says, “The best speaker is he who turn ears into eyes.” In fact, I recall reading that proverb only once, but because of its vividness, it stuck.
Consider some of these memorable expressions that I never tried to memorize but were instantly nailed to my mind. From Haddon Robinson: “A mist in the pulpit is a fog in the pew.” Howard Hendricks: “You can’t build a skyscraper on a chicken coop foundation.” Tony Campolo: “I’m sick and tired of people playing a thousand verses of ‘Just as I Am,’ who come down just as they are, and go out just as they were.”
Using the Right Illustration
Simply placing the right illustration with the right point is not enough. Good preparation includes good declaration. Here are some suggestions for serving illustrations hot.
1. Don’t waste time getting into the story. Get in and get out. Don’t overexplain, apologize, or make other unnecessary comments such as “I found this perfect illustration the other day …” Such comments challenge the listener to prove us wrong rather than to wait eagerly for the story.
2. Make sure the people know what you’re illustrating. Too often they remember the illustration and forget the point. Why? We don’t rivet the point to the illustration by repeating it before and after.
3. Make sure your illustration doesn’t overshadow your point. Many ripping good stories rip up the house and the sermon. All the people get is a good laugh.
4. Be excited about the illustration. If I’m not convinced it’s interesting and worthwhile, the audience won’t be. If I can’t generate enthusiasm about the material, I can hardly support it with the luster of a convincing rendition. Rather, I rend it to shreds.
5. Make sure it’s believable and true. On one occasion, when I had converted a devotional-guide story to first-person, my father remarked, “It sounded bogus to me.” Some speakers say that putting yourself into a story, whether you really were there or not, is legitimate. But it can also create distrust. I have heard several well-known preachers use anecdotes I’ve read in old illustration books. They tell them as though the experience happened to them. Their credibility is destroyed.
6. Make sure people will identify with the illustration. Arthur Miller, the playwright, once said that if he came away from a play exclaiming, “That was me!” it was a success. When I see myself in it, that often indicates a potent illustration.
7. Be sure of your facts. One night I referred to a book and said the author had died recently. A student in the group nearly shot out of his seat. “Good grief! I just heard him last week at seminary. You mean he died over the weekend?”
I choked, looked for the door, and confessed, “I think I got the name wrong.” Where’s the grave? I wanted to crawl in.
8. Be visual. Visual speaking creates pictures in the listeners’ minds. It uses sharp verbs and nouns, few adjectives. Lots of color and specifics. No fuzzy generalities, just hard slabs of meaning.
Illustrating sermons is one of preaching’s most gratifying and challenging tasks. If an illustration is too big for its britches, it tends to break a sermon. If it’s too little, the sermon comes across with the clout of a feather. But the right illustration, used well, makes preaching not only interesting but effective.
Copyright ©1986 Christianity Today
