Sermon illustrations are tools. They can be used skillfully or clumsily. Poorly used illustrations dull the message and may even confuse the hearer. But illustrations deftly applied bring a message to life.
Here are 7 irrefutable laws I've learned.
1. Make illustrations fit the circumstance.
No tailor tries to adapt his client's body to fit a ready-made suit. Yet we preachers sometimes try to shape a sermon to fit a great story we're itching to tell.
A sermon illustration I hear often these days concerns the captain of a battleship who exchanges terse messages with a vessel dead ahead. Each vessel keeps telling the other to move aside. The denouement is that the other "vessel" turns out to be a lighthouse.
That illustration seems to belong best in highlighting our need to give way to the lordship of Christ. But I've heard it used as a minister was being introduced to a new congregation (Who was to give way there?) and-I confess-I've used it at a wedding reception, stating it was a wise man who knew when to give way to his wife!
It worked in each situation, but the story ought not be stretched too far just to allow an opportunity to use it. Obviously, the message to be preached ought to have priority over any illustration. If the latter is allowed too much latitude, we may lose the point of the sermon.
2. Keep a clear link to the message.
I'll never forget the horror of finding myself halfway through a dramatic illustration and realizing I had no idea whatsoever how the story applied to the sermon. Something must have caused me to jot the story in my notes, but I hadn't written any link to the main text. I had to cover the situation as best I could, but I'm perfectly sure that if I, the preacher, couldn't see a link, the congregation didn't either.
These days I always make crystal clear in my notes how the illustration fits. And if one phrase is vital to make the transition back to the message, I write it down and underline it.
3. Keep them short.
Some people are gifted storytellers, and the humor they inject in spinning a yarn greatly enlivens the message. But sometimes even a good illustration can be so long it detracts from the message.
I've used an illustration from my days at college when I played rugby. The story involved a long description of a teammate, Brian: his enormous physique and ugly appearance when he took out his teeth, how he wouldn't shave just to be more abrasive (literally) for the opposition, and so on. The story ends with Brian and an opponent swapping punches but cooling down when someone reminds them the match is only a friendly one-no trophy or promotion is at stake.
I used the story to illustrate that people fight when they feel there's something worth fighting for. I linked it to 1 Timothy 6:12, where Timothy is urged to fight the good fight. I asked, "What is there in life that is worth fighting for?" to which the answer was "eternal life."
In its original telling, the story took over five minutes. It could have been given effectively in less than two. But my story pales against one I heard from a preacher who went on some fifteen minutes with a single illustration. Considering the whole sermon was only about twenty-five minutes, that was quite a chunk of the whole.
Jesus did tell several lengthy parables, but many were short. John 14:18 contains a masterful illustration in few words: "I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." The connotations of being abandoned and alone are all there, with the reassurance that this would not be the disciples' experience-and all in one sentence. Luke 5:36-39 has three parables in just four verses.
With only so much time in any one sermon, we ought to give no more to any one illustration than it warrants.
4. Never risk embarrassing others.
I can tell all the stories I want against myself, but to embarrass someone else can destroy relationships.
The classic example: ministers who embarrass their children. One minister's daughter said that as a child she dreaded each Sunday, wondering what personal stories about the family would be told.
And the preacher who uses pastoral experiences to provide living illustrations will soon find that not many seek his help. Even telling stories about people from a previous pastoral charge will warn off many who don't want anyone to know their secrets-ever.
If I want to use personal stories, I make it a point to obtain permission first. And I don't use quasi-spiritual blackmail: "I know you'll want to help others who are struggling as you were."
5. Withhold trivial details.
I've told my congregation how I still keep a stool that is too wobbly for anyone to sit on. Many years ago at school, I made it in a woodworking class, and because I made it, it matters to me. From there it's easy to speak about God's love for this broken world.
That's acceptable, even though the subject is of little importance. But what's not acceptable is to litter an illustration with trivial details.
Suppose I'd related the illustration like this: "Keeping a tidy home is an ideal for which we should all strive. And that means there's always dusting and cleaning to be done, along with sorting through the things we collect over the years. Do you know, as I sat in my study the other day, reading the mail, studying the Bible, and praying for each one of you, my gaze strayed to the corner of the room. There, almost in darkness, sat something that is very old now, and could so easily have been cleared out years ago. . ."
The congregation by that point has fallen asleep with boredom, and we haven't even heard yet that a stool sits in the corner.
An overweight man makes slow progress and usually dies prematurely. So does an overweight illustration.
6. Beware the illustration that is too striking.
Normally an illustration should be as striking as possible. But it's possible to go overboard.
I was preaching on the importance of a daily relationship with God, but I wanted to stress an important prerequisite. So, dropping my voice and lowering my head, I continued: "My friends, I have to tell you in all seriousness that there was a time when I did not love my wife at all." The congregation got very quiet. "It wasn't that love burned low. To be honest, I'd have to say I felt nothing at all for Alison."
The hush by now was total. People told me later they thought some terrible confession was coming next. "Yes," I went on, "and it continued like that for twenty-one years – until I met her!" There was one more moment of silence, and then guffaws of laughter as people realized I'd led them on.
I continued by saying we cannot love someone we haven't even met, and so before we can have a living, loving relationship with God, we have to meet him-to be born again. However, after such a heart-stopping illustration, no one was listening to me. People were still distracted by the illustration. After it was all over, the illustration was a great talking point, but who remembered the application?
7. Humor yes, jokes no.
Few of us can tell jokes, and we probably shouldn't anyway. The pulpit is not a comedian's platform.
And yet a careful use of humor can instantly bring back the congregation's wandering attention. The golden rule here is to make sure the story moves the sermon in the right direction and isn't being told just because it's funny.
I've used one about a department store that employed an efficiency expert. He kept changing things around; every day departments were moved to new parts of the building as the expert tried out new ideas. After two weeks of this, an elderly lady approached the doorman. In an exasperated tone of voice, she complained she could no longer find the millinery department and asked if he could please tell her where it was. He replied: "No, madam, I cannot. However, if you will just stand there for a moment, I'm sure you'll see it go by!"
I used that story in a sermon on change, making a point about the pace of modern life and the bewildering effect it can have on us. The danger is that humor can be more distraction than illumination.
Used well, illustrations make the difference between incomprehension and understanding, between dormancy and vitality, and thus between a forgettable and a memorable message. These basic rules help keep me from attaining the opposite of what I desire.
– J. Alistair Brown was minister at Gerrard Street Baptist Church, Aberdeen, Scotland.
Copyright © 1991 by the author or Christianity Today
