13 Sermon Illustrations on Faith Formation

"A lower degree of faith maketh way for a higher, as the priming of the wood maketh it receptive of other colours." Painters often use a paint at the first which is to be the preparation for quite another colour; red is commonly thus employed. So, in the work of grace, there may come first a dogmatical faith (as Manton calls it), which receives the doctrine of the word of God as truth. This does not save the soul, but it is a needful preparative for that receptive and trusting faith, by which salvation is actually received. Dogmatic faith is the priming upon which faith of a saving colour is laid by the Master-workman. Much the same is true of those gracious influences by which a man is made a willing and attentive hearer, and a respecter of the Sabbath and of the worship of God. All this may exist and yet there may be no saving faith; still it is the "priming" for the higher work. Faith cometh by hearing. Hence the value of all healthy moral influence, instruction, and example. None of these can save, but they may lead up to salvation. The paralyzed man was not cured by his friends, or by the bed, or by the ropes, but these brought him where Jesus was, and so he was healed. Make a man sober, and he is all the more likely to mind the preacher's admonitions: give him the power to read, and he may study the Scriptures. These things are not grace, but they may be stepping-stones to grace: they are not the permanent colour, but only the priming; yet it would never do to neglect them for that reason. He would be an unwise painter who put on the woodwork nothing but the priming; and he would be far more unwise who rested content with mere preparatory reforms. Yet in order to avoid this evil it is not necessary to forego the priming altogether, or to neglect anything by which a man is made even the least better. Oh, that I may be willing to do anything by which souls may be helped to a blessing! If I cannot actually heal the man's wounds, let me not refuse to wash them, or to set the wounded man upon my beast. He who will only do those works which are of the highest and utmost use is not so humble as he should be. Lord, make me willing to wash men's feet, if for the present I cannot win their souls. Incline me, my Lord, to teach a child his letters, or to reason with a drunkard, or to instruct a peasant in thrift, since any one of these may help to something better; for I know that everything which is pure and honest is on the side of Christ and his salvation.

There is a degree in Christianity, to the which whosoever cometh, they see and feel more than others can do. "Come and see" will speak better things of him than I can do. "Come nearer" will say much. Rutherford.

You must train the faith. Is that possible? Yes: I will give you an instance. Richard Cecil one day went into a room where his little girl was, bright-eyed and happy as she could be. Somebody had just given her a box of very beautiful heads. The little child ran to her papa immediately to show this little girl. "They are very beautiful, my child," he said; "but now, my dear, throw them behind the fire." The little girl looked for a moment. It was a great trial. "Now, I shall not compel you to do it; I leave it to you: but you never knew papa to ask you to do a thing that was not kind to you. I cannot tell you why; but, if you can trust me, do so." It cost a great effort: but the little child began in her own way to think, "Father has always been kind to me; I suppose it is right." And she took the box, and, with a great effort, threw it behind the fire. The father said no more for some time. The next day, however, he presented her with something far more beautiful, and which she had long desired. "Now," said he, "my child, I did this to teach you to trust in that greater Father in heaven. Many a time in your life, he will require you to give up and to avoid what you cannot see the reasons for avoiding; but, if you trust that Father as you have trusted me, you will always find it best." That was training the child's faith. S. Coley.

Laws of. Gradual ascent is as necessary to the mind in order to be reaching a great idea, as it is to the body in order to its reaching a great height. We cannot ascend to the pinnacle of a cathedral, which towers aloft in air, without either steps or an inclined plane. We cannot reach the summit of a mountain without first toiling up its base, then traversing its breast, and then successively crossing the limits where verdure passes into crag, and crag into a wilderness of snow. Even when we have gained the highest point, we are still, it is true, at an infinite distance from the blue vault of the firmament which stretches above our heads. Still we have a better and more exalted view of what that firmament is: we have at least risen above the fogs and mists which obscure its glory; and the air which encompasses us is transparent to the eye, and invigorating to the frame. Now, the law of man's bodily progress is also the law of his mental progress. Both must be gradual. No grand idea can be realized except by successive steps and stages, which the mind must use as landing-places in its ascent. Dr. Goulburn.

Theocritus tells of a fisherman that dreamed that he had taken a "fish of gold;" on which being overjoyed, he made a vow that he would never fish more; but, when he waked, he soon declared his vow to be null, because he found his golden fish was escaped away through the holes of his eyes when he first opened them. Just so we do in the purposes of religion. Sometimes, in a good mood, we seem to see heaven opened, and all the streets of the New Jerusalem paved with gold and precious stones; and we are ravished with spiritual apprehensions, and resolve never to return to the low affections of the world and the impure adherences of sin: but when this flash of lightning is gone, and we converse again with the inclinations and habitual desires of our false hearts, those other desires and fine considerations disband, and the resolutions taken in that pious fit melt into indifference and old customs. Bp. Taylor.

One young man said to another, when asked to become a Christian, "I don't think much about it; not any more than I can help."—"But you do think, sometimes?"—"Yes, when you (or some one else) make me; but I put it out of mind as soon as I can."