9 Sermon Illustrations on Purity

In the forests of Northern Europe lives the ermine, a small animal known best for its snow-white fur. Instinctively, this animal protects its glossy coat of fur with great care lest it become soiled. Hunters often capitalize on this trait. Instead of setting a mechanical trap to catch the ermine, they find its home in a cleft of a rock or a hollow tree and daub the entrance and the interior with tar. Then their dogs start the chase, and the frightened ermine flees toward its home. But finding it covered with dirt, he spurns his place of safety. Rather than soil his white fur, he courageously faces the yelping dogs who hold him at bay until the hunters capture him. To the ermine, purity is dearer than life! The Lord wants us to be a people who will keep ourselves "unspotted from the world."

"As precious liquors are best kept in clean vessels, so is the mystery of faith in a pure conscience." Who, indeed, would knowingly pour a choice wine into a tainted cask? It would be no instance of his wisdom if he did so. When we hear of men living in sin and yet claiming to be the ministers of God, we are disgusted with their pretences, but we are not deceived by their professions. In the same manner, we care little for those who are orthodox Christians in creed if it is clear that they are heterodox in life. He who believes the truth should himself be true. How can we expect others to receive our religion if it leaves us foul, false, malicious, and selfish? We sicken at the sight of a dirty dish, and refuse even good meat when it is placed thereon. So pure and holy is the doctrine of the cross that he who hears it aright will have his ear cleansed, he who believes it will have his heart purged, and he who preaches it should have his tongue purified. Woe unto that man who brings reproach upon the gospel by an unhallowed walk and conversation! Lord, evermore make us vessels fit for thine own use, and then fill us with the pure blood of the grapes of sound doctrine and wholesome instruction. Suffer us not to be such foul crops as to be only fit for the wine of Sodom.

THE RHODIANS. Plutarch tells us that the Rhodians appealed to the Romans for help, and one suggested that they should plead the good turns which they had done for Rome. This was a plea difficult to make strong enough, very liable to be disputed, and not at all likely to influence so great a people as the Romans, who would not readily consider themselves to be debtors to so puny a state as that of Rhodes. The Rhodians were, however, wiser than their counsellor, and took up another line of argument, which was abundantly successful: they pleaded the favours which in former times the Romans had bestowed upon them, and urged these as a reason why the great nation should not cast off a needy people for whom they had already done so much. Herein is wisdom. How idle it would be for us to plead our good works with the great God! What we have done for him is too faulty and too questionable to be pleaded; but what he has done for us is grand argument, great in itself and potent with an immutable Benefactor. Legal pleading soon meets a rebuff; yea, it trembles even before it leaves the pleader's mouth, and makes him ashamed while he is yet at his argument. Far otherwise fares it with the humble gratitude which gathers strength as it recalls each deed of love, and comforts itself with a growing assurance that he who has done so much will not lose his labour, but will do even more, till he has perfected that which concerneth us. Sinners run fearful risks when they appeal to justice: their wisdom is to cast themselves upon free grace. Our past conduct is a logical reason for our condemnation; it is in God's past mercy to us that we have accumulated argument for hope. The Latin sentence hath great truth in it, Deus donando dat, God by giving one mercy pledges himself to give another; he is not indebted to our merit, his only obligation is that which arises out of his own covenant promise, of which his gifts are pledges and bonds. Let us remember this when next we urge our suit with him.

Christian. Purity of heart is a trait of character which God's Spirit can alone produce. This is sanctification. It may exist in different degrees: it may be partial; it may be complete. Even when complete, it may, in this world, co-exist with many an error of judgment, and many a defect of temperament. Yet it enables us to live without offending God, so as to maintain for us the permanent undiminished fulness of the divine approbation. And when the heart is clean, the eye is clear. When purity makes us like God, then can we realize and see his countenance. The eye of the pure spirit beholds the pure Spirit. Through the beams he sheds down upon us, we can look up and see the face that shines. In the light of his smile, we behold his smile. So the pure in heart shall see God.

Importance of. By the ancients, courage was regarded as practically the main part of virtue: by us, though I hope we are none the less brave, purity is so regarded now. The former is evidently an animal excellence, a thing not to be left out when we are balancing the one against the other. Still the following considerations weigh more with me. Courage, when not an instinct, is the creation of society, depending for occasions of action (which is essential to it) on outward circumstances, and deriving much both of its character and its motives from popular opinion and esteem. But purity is inward, secret, self-sufficing, harmless, and, to crown all, thoroughly and intimately personal. It is, indeed, a nature rather than a virtue; and, like other natures, when most perfect is least conscious of itself and its perfection. In a word, courage, however kindled, is fanned by the breath of man: purity lives and derives its life solely from the Spirit of God. Hare.

As the precious stone called Amiantus, being cast into the fire, is made clearer and purer; so the children of God, being cast into the fire of troubles and afflictions, do shine more clear and beautiful.

— Cawdray