24 Sermon Illustrations on Blood Of Christ

You waste precious time in attempting, independently of the blood of God's Son and the aid of his Spirit, to change your heart, and save your soul. In you, so unprofitably engaged, I see a negro, black and tawny, seated by a running stream, a laughing-stock to some, an object of pity to others, while he labors and tolls to wash himself white, and remove the dark color from his skin. Rise, throw "soap and nitre" into the stream, and, turning your back on all self-righteous appliances, go seek the blood that cleanseth from sin. Day by day are you busy and pains-taking to work out a righteousness of your own? Leave that loom, your vows and promises. Gossamer threads! are they not ever snapping in your hand, and breaking at each throw of the shuttle? The white linen that robes the saint, the raiment meet for thy soul, and approved of God, was woven upon the cross; and there, with color more enduring than Tyrian purple, it was dyed in the blood of the Son of God.

— Dr. Guthrie

BLOOD OF JESUS, Demand of the Whilst Capt. Hedley Vicars was waiting in Canada, in November, 1851, the arrival of a brother-officer in his room, and idly turning over the leaves of the Bible, his eye caught the well-known words, "The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin." Closing the book, he said, "If this be true for me, henceforth I will live, by the grace of God, as a man should live who has been washed in the blood of Jesus Christ."

I once heard a very earnest and evangelical minister say that he had been accosted by a man who had heard him preach with this criticism, "I don't like your theology. It is too bloody. It savors of the shambles. It is all blood, blood, blood. I like a pleasanter gospel." He replied, "Well, my theology is bloody: it recognizes as its foundation a very sanguinary scene, — the death of Christ, with bleeding hands and feet and side. And I am quite content it should be bloody; for God hath said, that 'without shedding of blood is no remission' of sins." C. D. Foss.

Samuel Pearce, a useful minister at Birmingham, Eng., at the time of his conversion, having read Doddridge's "Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul," took up the idea suggested in that book, and resolved formally to dedicate himself to the Lord. He drew up a covenant; and, to make it more solemn and binding, he signed it with blood drawn from his own body. But afterwards, failing in his vows, he was plunged into great distress. Driven, therefore, into a more complete examination of his motives, he was led to see that he had been relying too much on his own strength; and, carrying the blood-signed covenant to the top of his father's house, he tore it into pieces and scattered it to the winds, and resolved henceforth to depend upon the peace-making and peace-keeping blood of Christ.

I dare assert, without fear of successful contradiction, that the inspired writers attribute all the blessings of salvation to the precious blood of Jesus Christ. If we have redemption, it is through his blood; if we are justified, it is by his blood; if washed from our moral stains, it is by his blood, which cleanseth us from all sin; if we have victory over the last enemy, we obtain it not only by the word of the divine testimony, but through the blood of the Lamb; and, if we gain admittance into heaven, it is because we "have washed our robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, and therefore are we before the throne of God." Every thing depends on the blood of Christ; and "without shedding of blood is no remission." Dr. R. Newton.

There is a tree called the manchaneel, which grows in the West Indies. Its appearance is very attractive, and the wood of it peculiarly beautiful; it bears a kind of apple resembling the golden pippin. This fruit looks very tempting, and smells very fragrant; but to eat of it is instant death; and its sap, or juice, is so poisonous, that, if a few drops of it fall on the skin, it raises blisters, and occasions great pain. The Indians dip their arrows in the juice, that they may poison their enemies when they wound them. Providence hath so appointed it, that one of these trees is never found, but near it there also grows a white wood or a fig-tree; the juice of either of which, if applied in time, is a remedy for the disease produced by the manchaneel. Sin, like this poisonous apple, looks pleasant to the eye, and men desire it, eat of it, and die; but there is a remedy at hand: it is the precious blood of the Son of God, which soothes the troubled conscience, and cleanses it from all sin.

— Bible Treasury

They tell us that cloth which has been dyed red can never be restored to its original purity. But when a piece of red cloth is viewed through ruby glass, the color is lost. So sins—red like crimson—are lost when the blood of Christ is interposed.

To me there is a great sanctity about the blood of man. I saw last Wednesday the Prayer-book which Bishop Juxon held in his hand as he stood by the side of Charles I. on the scaffold at Whitehall. Two spots of blood are on the page wherein he was reading the prayers, as the axe fell upon the monarch's neck. I have no reverence for Charles I., but I have reverence for drops of blood. I looked at them, and they were no theme of jest for me: the blood of a man is sacred. But what shall I say of the blood of the Son of God! God Himself, incarnate, in some mysterious manner taking into union with Himself our humanity, and then shedding His blood to redeem us! What is to be said of this? Look with reverence upon that precious blood.

In the heart of Africa, it is related by an Englishman that a slave procession passed by, and the king called out a poor slave who displeased him in some little way, ordered his men to put their arrows to their bowstrings and avenge the offense with his blood. The Englishman went up to the native chief and begged for the poor slave’s life, offered him a great deal of money and costly bribes, but the chief turned to him and said: “I don’t want ivory, or slaves, or gold; I can go against yonder tribe and capture their stores and their villages; I want no favors from the white man; all I want is blood.”

Then he ordered one of his men to pull his bow-string and discharge an arrow at the heart of the poor slave. The young Englishman, with the instinct of a moment, threw himself in front and held up his arm, and the next moment the arrow was quivering in the flesh of his own arm. The black man was astonished. Then he pulled the arrow from his arm, and the blood flowed, and he said to the chief: “Here is blood; here is my blood; I give it for this poor slave, and I claim his life.”

The native had never seen such a spectacle before, and he was completely overcome by it. He gave the slave to the white man. He said: “Yes, white man has bought him with his blood, and he shall be his.”

In a moment the poor slave threw himself at the feet of his deliverer, tears flowing down his face, and said: “O, white man, you have bought Lebe with your blood; Lebe [for that was his name] shall be your slave forever and ever.”

From that time on Lebe would not accept an offer of freedom; wherever the Englishman went, Lebe was right beside him. No drudgery was too hard, no task too hopeless. He was bound by the mercy of his deliverer as his consecrated servant.

O, friends, if a poor slave's heart can thus be bound by the wound of a stranger’s arm, what should you and I say for those deeper wounds in those two living hands and feet and the heart that was opened by the spear? If we believe that we are redeemed, how can we but be consecrated to him.

________

From “Present Day Parables” by J. Wilbur Chapman

Every one must have personal faith and belief in the blood for himself. It is said that during the war, George H. Stuart, a princely merchant of Philadelphia, and a Christian man of large heart and faith, was President of the Christian Commission. One day he had occasion to go down into Virginia, and cross the picket lines, to visit a soldier. He came along, and the sentinel was pacing up and down. Mr. Stuart rode up to the lines. “Halt!” Mr. Stuart stopped. “Who is there?” “A friend.” “Advance and give the countersign.” Mr. Stuart rode up, and leaning forward, whispered, “Chicago.” “No,” said the sentinel, “that is not the right word today; and it will be death for me to let you go over without the right word, and death for me to give it to you. You must go back to headquarters and get it.”

Stuart went back to the headquarters, and having obtained the correct word, hastened back. As he approached the lines the sentinel shouted, “Halt!” Stuart stopped. “Who is there?” “A friend.” “Advance and give the countersign.” He rode forward and said, “Massachusetts.” “That is right.” Mr. Stuart rode over the lines, stopped, whirled upon his horse, and said, “Sentinel, I came here today to cross these lines, and I had the wrong countersign; but I had opportunity to go back and get the right one. But, sir, you are approaching lines of eternal consequences, and if you come with the wrong countersign, you never will have opportunity to go back and get the right one.”

“Yes, sir, I know what you mean.”

“What do I mean?”

“The judgment seat of Christ.”

“That is right.”

“Sir, have you got the right countersign?”

“I have.”

“What is it?”

“The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin.”

“Where did you get that?” said he.

“In a prayer meeting where you were.”

[see also HolwickID #4810]

I used to think it strange that the Bible keeps talking about the cleansing power of the blood (1 Peter 1:2). It seemed to me that blood was messy stuff. I needed to wash my white lab coats if they became stained with blood.

Today, I love the analogy; it is so true of the body. The blood is constantly cleansing every cell, and washing away all the debris that accumulates all the time. I like the phrase in Hebrews 9:14 KJV: "How much more shall the blood of Christ purge your conscience from dead works?"

--Dr. Paul Brand in GOD'S FOREVER FEAST (Discovery House, 1998)

A Christian, visiting among the poor one day engaged a man in conversation about his soul, and while referring to the Bible he held in his hands, was startled by a feeble voice near by saying: “Does your book tell of the blood that cleanseth from all sin?” The visitor entered the room from which the plea had issued, and upon a bundle of straw in a corner he found the wasted form of a suffering woman. Raising herself up on one arm as he entered, she fixed her large eyes upon him and repeated her question. “My poor friend,” he said, “what do you want to know of the blood that cleanseth from all sin?’“ Her voice and manner now became startling as she cried out, “What do I want to know of it? Man! I’m dying; I’m going to stand before God! I have been a wicked woman, a very wicked woman all my life. I shall have to answer for everything I have done!” “Once,” she continued, “as I was passing a door, I heard something about the blood which cleanseth from all sin. Oh, if I could hear of it now! Tell me if there is anything about that blood in your book.” The 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th and 5th chapters of First John were read before she would consent to a pause. Almost from the very first she seemed to find peace and joy in believing in Jesus, in Him who gave His life for the remission of sins. In a few days she passed away—a ransomed soul.