9 Sermon Illustrations on Church Ministry

An anxious, retired, and diligent country clergyman, waited upon a layman of enlarged, enlightened and truly Christian views, to lay before him the case of his prostrated and embarrassed parish. "If we cannot raise a few hundred dollars," said he, "to pay off a small debt for erecting the church, it will be impossible to get along." "It is exceedingly difficult," was the reply, "to raise money abroad for these purposes; cannot a subscription be raised amongst your own people to pay off the debt?" "I doubt," was the rejoinder, "whether twenty dollars could be collected for the purpose."

The friendly adviser well knew that this could not be owing to absolute pecuniary inability. He paused a moment for reflection, and then asked, very irrelevantly, as the minister thought, whether he had a Bible Society in his parish. "No," said he. "Well, then, go home and set about forming one instantly. If your difficulties are not surmounted by this means, they exceed the measure of my wisdom." In the retirement of his study the expedient appeared at first to the good clergyman absolutely hopeless. He relied much, however, upon the wisdom of his adviser, and reflected that at any rate it was a good work, and the only thing which could relieve his sorrowful reflections by the energy of action. Accordingly he set himself diligently to work, and after encountering many difficulties succeeded in doing something for the Bible cause. But that, though a blessed thing, he considered a mere trifle, when at the end of two years he announced with inexpressible animation and delight to his noble adviser, that his church was paid for, an organ purchased, his family made more comfortable than ever, and that all the affairs of the parish were going on most admirably.

It seems all that was wanted was a lively interest in religious things. Let some of our poor parishes who cannot pay for churches, or feel unable to build them, who have no ministers, or worse still, are starving those they have, try the experiment of getting up vigorous and interesting missionary associations.

A young minister received a call from two different societies at once, to become their pastor. One was rich, and able to give him a large salary, and was well united; the other was poor, and so divided that they had driven away their minister. In this condition he applied to his father for advice. An aged negro servant who overheard what they said, made this reply: "Massa, go where there is the least money and the most devil." He took the advice, and was made the happy instrument of uniting a distracted church, and converting many souls to Christ.

Church choirs are often a source of trouble to a pastor. A colored minister down South takes hold of the situation thus:

De choir will now sing dat beautiful piece, “We ain’t got long to stay heah,” after which dey will consider demselves discha’ged and will file out quietly, one by one. We’se gwine to hab con’gational singin’ heahaftah in dis yere chu’ch.

Some years ago I was chairman of a church committee to purchase a new pipe-organ. We were an ambitious congregation, and nothing but the biggest and the best would suffice. We purchased a magnificent instrument--three manuals, tracker, pneumatic action, 1,944 pipes, and all the necessary swells and stops; cost $5,000. It was a “thing of beauty,” and we expected it to be a “joy forever.” The congregation was pleased; the committee was delighted.

But somehow things did not go well. Sister Jones, the old organist, would not touch the new-fangled thing. “Too much machinery and too much show,” she said. Of course, we were adverse to going outside of the congregation for an organist. So we tried Minnie Wright, the deacon’s daughter; but Minnie could not manipulate the stops and swells. We next tried Josie Grayson, an orphan girl, who really needed the place. Now, Josie could play with her hands, but when it came to playing with her feet also she could not do it. We next tried Seth McGraw, who had been to college and who, in addition to his musical ability, was able-bodied and strong. Seth put all the power on the motor, pulled out all the stops, and kicked and pawed with might and main. The organ shrieked and bellowed and roared. As for noise, the bulls of Bashan were outclassed. But as for music--well, it requires more than a big organ and a big man to produce that. The congregation was disappointed, disgusted, and fast becoming desperate. They said that the organ was too big, too complicated, and that it had at least nineteen hundred pipes too many. There were charges of mismanagement and even fraud against the committee, and hints that “something might be doing.” Now, Indiana lies in the north central portion of the lynching belt of the United States, so the committee felt a trifle uncomfortable.

To my way of thinking, there is a marked similarity between the musical experience of this congregation and the educational experience of many communities in this country. We have built great schoolhouses and prepared elaborate courses of study, with more manuals, stops, and swells than characterized the great organ of Newtown. The old course of study, which was so simple that even Sister Jones could play it by ear, has given place to a new, elaborate, and highly organized course which is difficult--entirely too difficult--for the Minnie Wrights and Josie Graysons, no difference if the one is a relative of some member of the school-board and the other is the daughter of a poor widow. It requires more, too, than an able-bodied man to get proper results from the course of study, even if he has been to college and played fullback on the football team. He may make a great ado about it, but the results will be very similar to Seth McGraw’s music on the pipe-organ--calculated to incite a riot.

— J. W. CARR

On October 15, 1819, in the Park Street Church, Boston, a mission to the Hawaiian Islands was organized with the following members: Messrs. Bingham and Thurston, ministers; Messrs. Whitney and Ruddles, teachers; Thomas Holman, physician; Elisha Loomis, printer; Daniel Chamberlain, farmer, together with their wives, and three Hawaiian young men from the Cornwall Missionary School. These seventeen went forth to erect a Christian civilization upon pagan shores, for they represented the Church, the common school, the printing-press, the medicine-chest, and the implements of agriculture. They set sail from Boston October 23, 1819, and reached the Hawaiian coast March 31, 1820, after somewhat more than five months.--PIERSON, “The Miracles of Missions.”