Abstract

This paper analyzes why it is a mistake to pronounce a blanket rejection of third-person illustrations. It suggests how to use third-person illustrations as effectively as personal illustrations.

 

Preaching experts sometimes advise, "Don't use 'canned' illustrations." Canned is a pejorative term applied to illustrations that come from a sermon illustration book, online site, or magazine. A "canned" illustration did not originate with you. It is someone else's material, found in the media, perhaps with ready-made sermon application. "Canned" suggests that the illustration is not fresh. It is secondhand, processed. The preacher cannot escape two or more degrees of separation.

Although the intent of the advice is good, it is undiscriminating. Taken to its logical conclusion, it implies that any illustration that does not originate in personal experience is unfit. That rules out historical illustrations. That precludes illustrations from television programs, TV and radio newscasts, newsmagazines, newspapers, literature and other books. That bars all third-person illustrations. If the characteristic that makes a third-person illustration "canned" is that it did not come from one's own experience, that means we should not use even stories from the Bible! 

Obviously no one advocates excluding all third-person illustrations. Even those who deride "canned" illustrations will illustrate in ways such as: "I saw an amazing story in the newspaper this morning...." Or, "At a family gathering last month my brother told me something I will never forget...." Or, "I read an interview in Time magazine recently in which Bono, lead singer in U2, said...." Or, "Recent research published in the New England Journal of Medicine says that those who go through divorce are...." Or, "In a recent ad, Madonna said.... But Scripture says...."  

In all these examples, the only thing that makes the content personal is the preacher saw or heard it himself, not that he personally experienced it. Is that really any different in nature than if he read that identical story or statistic from USA Today in a sermon-illustration resource? Obviously not. 

What therefore is intended when discerning homileticians scorn "canned" illustrations or when savvy preachers say, "I illustrate only from my own experience"? What problem have they rightly recognized? A discriminating view of third-person illustrations finds that the problem is not third-person illustrations, per se, nor their medium, but rather the quality of third-person illustrations and the skill with which they are used. 

Not all third-person illustrations are aluminum; some are like a tree cutting that we can graft into a bountiful olive tree. Chosen with care and used with skill, these illustrations can bud and flourish and bear fruit like a branch native to the tree. 

Real Problems and Discriminating Solutions

 I see six real problems with some third-person illustrations and how they are used. For each I offer discriminating solutions.

1. They sound outdated, archaic. They do not connect with hearers. The problem is not necessarily that the illustration is historical but rather that the wording and situation come from another era. For example:

In Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan, Christiana (the hero's wife), Mercy (a young pilgrim), and the children are graphically pictured knocking on the Wicker Gate. They knock and knock, but no one answers. Meanwhile, a ferocious dog comes and begins to bark--making the women and children very afraid. They simply do not know what to do. If they continue to knock, they must fear the dog. If they turn away, they fear the gatekeeper will be offended. They determine to knock again, ever so fervently. Finally they hear the voice of the gate-keeper asking, "Who is there?" And the dog ceases barking. What dogs are barking in your life that the Lord can silence? 

Solution: Use illustration sources that have contemporary illustrations and historical illustrations written in contemporary style. As users of modern translations have discovered, you don't have to quit preaching from the Bible just because the King James is hard to read. 

Solution: Edit dated illustrations to make the language contemporary.  

2. Some third-person illustrations feel cut-and-paste. They feel alien to the sermon or the preacher. They may not match the sermon's tone, terms, style, or dominant metaphor. They may clash with the preacher's personality and speaking style. 

Solution: Make the illustration an organic part of the sermon. Here are four ways to do that. 

·      Use an image or key phrase from the illustration elsewhere in the sermon, perhaps as a refrain. If the illustration is in the introduction, come full circle and refer back to it in the conclusion. 

For example, suppose you used this illustration in a sermon on spiritual warfare:  

Ruth Bell Graham tells this story about her son Franklin:

Franklin was sleeping on the front porch with his cowboy boots and toy gun. We were having problems with some [skunks], and Franklin told me not to worry because he had a gun.

"Franklin, it's just a toy gun," I said.

"That's OK, Momma," he said. "The [skunks] don't know that."

(Jim Dailey, "A Conversation with Ruth Bell Graham," Decision (May 2002), p. 15)

This illustration becomes an organic part of the sermon if elsewhere in the message you refer to the powerless religious things some people do to fight evil as "toy guns." 

·      Conversely, use key terminology from the sermon in the illustration. (Bryan Chapell discusses using consistent terminology in Christ-Centered Preaching, pp. 212-213) 

For example, when I bridge and apply the Franklin Graham illustration above, if the rest of the sermon speaks of "spiritual warfare with evil," this illustration becomes an organic part of the sermon if I say, "In our spiritual warfare with evil, we need to be sure we aren't using toy guns." It would be less organic if I said, "In our battle with demons and their lies, we need to be sure we aren't using toy guns." 

·      Use illustrations that fit the tone, associations, and emotions of what precedes and follows. 

For example, the Franklin Graham illustration has a humorous tone and family associations. It would fit well in the introduction of the sermon where we are connecting with people and transitioning from everyday life and the positive atmosphere of the worship service. Obviously it would be absurdly out of place if used later in the sermon after we have described the harmful work of demons or the suffering of a victim of an evil such as rape.  

·      Transition in and out of the illustration so it connects with what precedes and follows. Introductory and concluding transition sentences combine to weave the illustration into the fabric of its surroundings. 

I could introduce the Graham illustration above in this manner: "In spiritual warfare we must be careful that we have the right weapons to do the job. In a humorous example of that, Ruth Bell Graham tells this story...." 

A less organic transition would be: "An essential part of spiritual warfare is the weapons we use. Ruth Bell Graham tells this story...." 

Solution: Connect the illustration with yourself as the preacher. Here are two ways to accomplish that. 

·      A minimal way to connect personally with an illustration is to say when and where we found it. For instance:  

"A few days ago as I searched for an example of this biblical principle, I found this story in my library...." Or, "Earlier this week I read this illustration by Max Lucado from his book ...." Or, "In my research for this sermon, I found this statistic from George Gallup on the Internet...." 

·      Our connection with an illustration deepens when we give our feeling, reaction, perspective on the illustration. In this way the illustration filters through our point of view. For example: 

"Earlier this week I read an illustration by Max Lucado from his book He Chose the Nails that spoke deeply to my heart...." Or, "I agree completely with what Sheldon Vanauken says in this excerpt from his book A Severe Mercy...." Or, "I strongly objected to the message of the movie Cider House Rules, but one scene gives us a profound insight into fallen human nature and our need for God...." 

Solution: Adapt the language of the illustration to fit our personality. Sometimes the wording of an illustration clashes with our voice. Perhaps the writer is too sentimental or too detached. There may be slang, purple prose, or regional idioms. Perhaps the illustration contains stuffy, academic transitional words and phrases such as moreover, furthermore, or in conclusion. We can fix this with a bit of nip and tuck, or by adding some signature phrases.  

Here, for example, is an objective, journalistic illustration:

The publisher's review of a recent book describes it as "a thoughtful, detailed discussion of every aspect of considering, preparing for, beginning, and conducting a successful and emotionally fulfilling extramarital affair." The book is called Affair! How to Manage Every Aspect of Your Extramarital Relationship with Passion, Discretion, and Dignity (by Cameron Barnes, UPublish.com, 1999). For just $19.95, plus shipping and handling, you can get a practical summary of the deception in our culture on the subject of sexual relations outside of marriage.

Let's change that to a passionate personal voice:

Believe it or not, there is a publisher that has the gall to promote one of its new books as "a thoughtful, detailed discussion of every aspect of considering, preparing for, beginning, and conducting a successful and emotionally fulfilling extramarital affair." Sadly enough, this depraved book is called Affair! How to Manage Every Aspect of Your Extramarital Relationship with Passion, Discretion, and Dignity. For $20 you can buy the lies that will destroy your marriage and your relationship with God.

But even that may sound cut-and-paste on the lips of a youth pastor. He might present the same illustration this way:

Get this. There's a bottom-feeding publisher who is promoting a new book as "a thoughtful, detailed discussion of every aspect of considering, preparing for, beginning, and conducting a successful and emotionally fulfilling extramarital affair." Whoa, am I hearing that right? This sick book is called Affair! How to Manage Every Aspect of Your Extramarital Relationship with Passion, Discretion, and Dignity. Yeah, right. For just $19.95, plus shipping and handling, you can stuff your brain with the lies that the Devil wants to sell you about sex.  

3. Some third-person illustrations have made the rounds. People have already heard them. This is especially risky with old illustration books and Internet e-mails forwarded countless times. For example: 

A young boy carried the cocoon of a moth into his house to watch it emerge. When the moth finally started to break out of his cocoon, the boy noticed how hard the moth had to struggle. In an effort to help, he reached down and widened the opening of the cocoon. Soon the moth was out of its prison. But as the boy watched, the wings remained shriveled. Something was wrong. What the boy had not realized was that the struggle to get out of the cocoon was essential for the moth's muscle system to develop. In a misguided effort to relieve a struggle, the boy had crippled the future of this creature. Trials are necessary for growth. 

Solution: Use illustration sources that regularly provide fresh illustrations. 

Solution: Use older illustrations only if they have five-star quality and make the point better than any other illustration available. If a classic illustration is too good not to use, introduce it in a way that shows you know it is familiar: "You have probably heard this story before, but it bears repeating because it is a classic," or "This illustration may be familiar to you, but it is no less true."  

4. Some sermons use too many third-person illustrations. They crowd out exposition. Preachers who find a mother lode of illustrations in a book or Web site are tempted to overuse them. 

I heard one sermon that had a skillfully-developed outline derived from the text. The outline was developed with around 12 anecdotes, most of them of the Reader's Digest variety. Judging from the main points of the outline, the sermon was biblical, but it did not feel biblical because it devoted far more time to the illustrations than the text. The outline of biblical principles seemed only to serve as a spare platform for the real players in the sermon: the illustrations. 

The result of this avalanche of illustrations was the sermon lost its center and focus. The sermon's center was not the interpretive point of view of the preacher, not a biblical metaphor or phrase, and certainly not the explanation of the text. 

Illustration overkill also made the sermon lose its purpose. It felt more like entertainment than an encounter with the living Word of the Lord. 

Solution: Limit the number of third-person illustrations. 

5. Some third-person illustrations sound churchy. They may be overly sentimental, preachy, or moralistic. Especially to the unchurched and the young, they come across corny. For example: 

The story is told of two artists who were putting the finishing touches on a painting high on a scaffold in a church. The younger artist stepped back to admire the work and became enraptured with the beauty of what he and his mentor had created. His master saw his pleasure and realized that in the emotion of the moment the young man was continuing to step back, inching toward the edge of the scaffold. In another moment he would plunge to his death. Fearing he would frighten his student by a warning cry, the master artist deliberately splashed paint across the painting. The young man lunged forward in shock and cried out, "What have you done? Why did you do that?" Upon hearing the reason, his anger and confusion melted into tears of joy and thankfulness. God sometimes uses trials to protect us from ourselves, especially from the naive enthusiasm that could lead us to disaster. 

Solution: Don’t use these illustrations, or edit them to get rid of corny elements. Use illustration sources that limit churchy illustrations. 

6. Some third-person illustrations sound mythical. They don't have the ring of truth and real life. They are general, lacking names and dates and places. They cite general sources or none at all. For example: 

A carpenter hired to help restore an old farmhouse had just finished up a rough first day on the job. A flat tire had made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup refused to start. As he rode home with a friend, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, as he walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands. Then, opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.  Why the transformation? The tree in his yard was his "trouble tree." He knew he couldn't avoid having troubles on the job, but one thing was for sure—troubles didn't belong in the house with his wife and children. So he just hung his troubles on the tree every night when he came home and, in the morning, picked them up again. The funny thing was that when he came out in the morning to collect his troubles, there weren't nearly as many as he remembered hanging up the night before. 

Solution: Generally we cannot fix mythical-sounding illustrations because we lack access to the truth. Avoid illustration sources that do not distinguish between fiction and reality (the common fiction signal today is "The story is told" or, as Jesus commonly used, "A certain woman was....") When unsure, assume an illustration is fiction.  

If we find a mythical illustration that is useful, introduce it in a way that identifies it as fiction, as parable. For example, "There is an old legend that makes a helpful point." Or, "Here is a parable that gives us a useful metaphor." After all, a story need not be true to make a point. The problem comes when we tell a parable in a way that makes it sound like fact. Hearers will assume we are naïve and gullible. 

Conclusion  

Far from hurting a sermon, third-person illustrations that are chosen with discrimination, modified with skill, and grafted organically into the sermon add enormous benefits:  

·      They broaden the message. Listeners see examples of the truths of Scripture that transcend the small world of the preacher and spouse and kids and dog and yard and hobbies. Sermon illustration is not all about us.

·      They deepen our reservoir. One person can have only so many illustrative experiences, and we can tell them only so many times.

·      They enable average communicators to use excellent illustrations. The church has a limited number of Lucados and Swindolls. For the vast majority of preachers who are so-so storytellers and poets, third-person illustrations provide an invaluable resource they cannot develop in quantity on their own.

·      They bring other voices into the sermon. Sometimes a third-person illustration brings in a contrasting voice, a foil, that brings energy--for example, the words of Carl Sagan on why he could not believe in God. At other times an ingrafted illustration confirms what we say as we bring authorities and respected cultural figures into the witness seat. For instance, when George Bush says he depends on prayer.

 Consider one final example: 

Less than a week before Martin Burnham's abduction by Muslim guerrillas on the Philippine island of Palawan in May 2001, the New Tribes missionary gave the devotional at a Wednesday evening service at Rose Hill Bible Church in his small hometown outside Wichita, Kansas. 

Some of Burnham's last words in the United States were also the last words of Jesus recorded in the Gospel of John, said Ralph Burnham, Martin's uncle.... "His very last words were, 'Follow thou me,'" Ralph Burnham said, his voice choking up. "Martin not only spoke of following him, but he took on that responsibility. Of course, at that time neither he nor any of us expected how far he was going to be required to go to. But he was willing to go." 

Martin Burnham, 42, kept that attitude throughout the 376 days he and his wife, Gracia, 43, were held captive by the Abu Sayyaf terrorist group. 

Just before a Philippine military raid on the kidnappers that led to Martin's death and Gracia's freedom, the two huddled together in a hammock under a makeshift tent. 

"Martin and Gracia had really been thinking that there would be a chance that they would not make it out alive," said Martin's brother, Doug, relying on a phone conversation with Gracia. "Martin said to Gracia, 'The Bible says to serve the Lord with gladness. Let's go out all the way. Let's serve him all the way with gladness.'" 

The two then prayed in their hammock, recited Scripture verses to each other, and sang. They laid down to rest. Then the rescue assault began, and bullets began to fly, puncturing Gracia's leg and Martin's chest.

(Citation: Ted Olsen, "Martin Burnham Went Out Serving With Gladness" ChristianityToday.com [6-10-02])

 This third-person illustration is not "canned." Whatever the media in which it is heard or read, it is worthy of being grafted into a sermon.