News Sermon Illustrations

News Sermon Illustrations

Tennyson on one occasion spent a holiday with a Methodist family in a Lincolnshire village. On his arrival, he asked his hostess if she had any news for him. `Why, Mr. Tennyson,' she replied, 'there's only one piece of news that I know—Christ died for all men.' Well,' responded the poet, 'that's old news, and good news, and new news.'

This word NEWS is a very interesting one, and is composed of the initial letters of the four main points of the compass—North, East, West, South. News is gathered from all quarters, but the best of all news comes, not from around us, but from above us.—Indian Christian

(Acts 13. 26; 1 Cor. 15. 3, 4)

News—Bad; but God—

Bad news has come, and heart and mind are sobered,—
We did not think that things would come to this:
We deemed that God would surely send deliver­ance;
We asked that what was threatened we might miss.

But it has come—the thing we deemed unwanted!
Bad news, indeed, it seems to us today;
We cannot think that God has failed to hear us,
But cannot fathom why He answers 'Nay'.

What shall we do?—Succumb or get down-hearted?
That were indeed the easy road to tread;
With hope and trust cast over—faith abandoned—
And God, the God Who loves—why, deemed as dead.

Bad news indeed! But God abideth faithful!
Some fresh unfolding of His power He'll show;
Thus, unto Him, Whose love is quite unending,
Whose care and power are limitless—we'll go.—J. Danson Smith

(Rom. 8. 28; Phil. 2. 26, 27; 4. 19)

Soon after the installation of the telegraph in Fredericksburg, Virginia, a little darky, the son of my father's mammy, saw a piece of newspaper that had blown up on the telegraph wires and caught there. Running to my grandmother in a great state of excitement, he cried, "Miss Liza, come quick! Dem wires done buss and done let all the news out!"—Sue M.M. Halsey.

"Our whole neighborhood has been stirred up," said the regular reader.
The editor of the country weekly seized his pen. "Tell me about it," he said. "What we want is news. What stirred it up?"

"Plowing," said the farmer.

There is nothing new except what is forgotten.—Mademoiselle Berlin.

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