10 Sermon Illustrations on Power of the Holy Spirit

When a lecturer on electricity wants to show an example of a human body surcharged with his fire, he places a person on a stool with glass legs. The glass serves to isolate him from the earth, because it will not conduct the fire, — the electric fluid: were it not for this, however much might be poured into his frame, it would be carried away by the earth; but, when thus isolated from it, he retains all that enters him. You see no fire, you hear no fire; but you are told that it is pouring into him. Presently, you are challenged to the proof; asked to come near, and hold your hand close to his person: when you do so, a spark of fire shoots out towards you. If thou, then, wouldst have thy soul surcharged with the fire of God, so that those who come near thee shall feel some mysterious influence proceeding out from thee, thou must draw nigh to the source of that fire, to the throne of God and of the Lamb, and shut thyself out from the world,—that cold world which so swiftly steals our fire away. Enter into thy closet, and shut to thy door, and there, isolated "before the throne," await the baptism: then the fire shall fill thee; and, when thou comest forth, holy power will attend thee, and thou shalt labor, not in thine own strength, but with demonstration of the Spirit, and with power. Rev. W. Arthur.

In some of our houses is constructed a telegraphic alarm. Every door and every window, by a telegraphic wire, is connected with a little galvanic battery in a closet, and also with a bell at the head of the sleeper's bed. When a door or window opens, the bell gives a sudden peal. After five or six months, if no precaution is taken, a serious difficulty may occur. The lever may be turned to connect the battery with the bell, and a door may be opened; but no sound will be heard. What has happened? Every wire in the house can be traced uninjured back to the battery; the platform on which stands the bell, and the lever connecting and disconnecting the wires, are all in place: but there is no response. The power is gone. What shall we do? Polish the bell? increase the number of or renew the wires? Still there would be no sound. Shall we smite upon the bell, imitating the ringing peal ourselves? But then its legitimate office, to give us warning, and to save us in the hour of danger, is gone. There is only one course to be pursued. The trouble is with the battery. It has only to be charged again as it was at first; and then the fire will run through all the lines of wire, and the response will be given at the point of contact. So also the heart must be again filled with the Holy Ghost; and every point of contact with our fellow-men will illustrate our moral power. Dr. Curry.

An eminently pious curate, in England, was accustomed, on account of the village in which he resided being at a great distance from the church, to preach on the sabbath evening in his own house. On his return from his stated parochial duties, one sabbath afternoon, he was warned by one of his neighbors to keep a strict look-out against two suspicious characters then lurking in the village, as there was some reason to apprehend that they intended that night to rob his house. They contrived however, by some means, to get within his premises while the people were assembling in considerable numbers for worship, and concealed themselves in a retired part of the house; but not being far from the room where the worthy man was preaching, they could distinctly hear his voice. The sword of the Spirit pierced their hearts; they were not only convinced of the wickedness of their meditated burglary, but of the awful criminality of sin as committed against God, and left their dark retreat under the most pungent sense of guilt. From this time, an effectual change was wrought in their minds and conduct, and the pious clergyman, after several years, could bear testimony that by their unblamable lives, they adorned the gospel of Christ.

Recently, I visited Fort Monroe and was taken through those interesting barracks. An officer pointing out a great gun said to me, “With that we could tear to pieces yonder wall of stone and destroy many lives thousands of yards away.” A friend standing near said, “Not so, that gun in itself is powerless.” “Oh,” the officer exclaimed, “of course, we must first place the powder and the shell in it, and then the disastrous work will be done.” The reply was made, “All of your guns and powder and shell are absolutely powerless to make any impression in themselves. There is one thing lacking.” “Yes,” he said, “but a spark of fire would hurl forth the missile of death and bring about the great destruction.” We may have big guns in the pulpit, and in the pew, we may have the finest machinery and external equipment; but unless we have the fire of the Spirit we can never shatter the strongholds of Satan and bring in the reign of our spiritual King.

— H. ALLEN TUPPER

My friends, we have too many orators in the pulpit. I am tired and sick of your “silver-tongued orators.” I used to mourn because I couldn’t be an orator. I thought, Oh, if I could only have the gift of speech like some men! I have heard men with a smooth flow at language take the audience captive; but they came and they went. Their voice was like the air — there wasn’t any power back of it; they trusted in their eloquence and their fine speeches. That is what Paul was thinking of when he wrote to the Corinthians: “My speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power: that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.”

Take a witness in court and let him try his oratorical powers in the witness-box, and see how quickly the judge will rule him out. It is the man who tells the plain, simple truth that has the most influence with the jury.

Suppose that Moses had prepared a speech for Pharaoh, and had got his hair all smoothly brushed, and had stood before the mirror, or had gone to an elocutionist to be taught how to make an oratorical speech and how to make gestures. Suppose that he had buttoned his coat, put one hand in his chest, had struck an attitude, and begun:

“The God of our fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has commanded me to come into the presence of the noble King of Egypt.”

I think they would have taken his head right off! They had Egyptians who could be as eloquent as Moses. It was not eloquence they wanted.