3 Sermon Illustrations on Jesus

And what was the appearance of this greater than Solomon? What were his royal robes? — the attire of a common Nazarene. What were his palaces? — a carpenter's cottage, which he sometimes exchanged for a fisherman's hut. Who were his ministers and his court attendants? — twelve peasants. And what was his state chariot? — none could be afford; but, in one special procession, he rode upon a borrowed ass. Ah! said we so? His royal robe was heaven's splendor whenever he chose to let it through; and Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like Jesus on Tabor. His palace was the heaven of heavens; and, when a voluntary exile from it, little did it matter whether his occasional lodgings were a rustic hovel or Herod's halls. If fishermen were his friends, angels were his servants; and, if the borrowed colt was his triumphal charger, the sea was proud, when, from crest to crest of its foaming billows, it felt his majestic footsteps moving: and when the time had arrived for returning to his father and his God, the clouds lent the chariot, and obsequious airs upbore him in their reverent hands. Dr. J. Hamilton.

A brave cavalry officer was dying of his wounds. He thought himself on the field, at the head of his gallant men, and fancied that a heavy gun was just in front of them, ready to be fired. His distress was great. At length he thought the gun had been fired, and his men, badly cut up, were retreating. Here I interposed, saying, "There is no gun there: you are safe among friends."—"Let me alone!" he sternly replied. "I must recover my command, and renew the attack."—"No," said I; "let us not talk of battle-scenes. You are soon to die. Let us talk of Jesus." The mention of that name seemed to exert the powerful influence I had often heard ascribed to it. His agitation ceased at once; his delirium passed away; a smile lit up his pallid features. After a moment's silence, he said in a low voice, "Jesus, Jesus! It is he who said, 'Come unto me all ye that that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. I want rest: I am weary." Soon after, he entered the glorious rest of heaven. H. C. Hovey.