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8 Sermon Illustrations on Divine Love

8 illustrations

Divine love in Christian preaching highlights God's boundless and unconditional affection for humanity, most clearly demonstrated through Christ's sacrificial death (John 3:16). Illustrations often portray this love as a guiding light or a protective embrace, emphasizing its eternal and redemptive nature (Romans 5:8).

God, Love of

Romans 5:8

God's infinite love is revealed supremely in Christ's sacrificial death for sinners.

History's noblest deed and record of love is in the self-devotion of one generous heathen, Pylades, who forfeited his life to save his friend; but "God commendeth his love to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us!" You have not yet seen," says a great writer and profound thinker, "the greatest gift of all, — the HEART of God, the love of his heart, the heart of his love. And will he in very deed show us that? Yes, unveil that cross, and see. It was his only mode of showing us his heart. It is infinite love laboring to reveal itself, — agonizing to utter the fulness of infinite love. Apart from that act, a boundless ocean of love would have remained forever shut up and concealed in the heart of God; but now it has found an ocean-channel. Beyond this, he cannot go. Once and forever the proof has been given, — 'God is love.'" Macduff.

Love, Origin of

Human love and mercy are reflections of God's perfect love and mercy.

As the rays come from the sun, and yet are not the sun; even so our love and pity, though they are not God, but merely a poor, weak image and reflection of him, yet from him alone they come. If there is mercy in our hearts, it comes from the fountain of mercy. If there is the light of love in us, it is a ray from the full sun of His love.

— C. Kingdey

GOD—Love of

Only God's love endures eternally beyond all creation and earthly existence.

All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye. The forms of men shall be as they had never been; The blasted groves shall lose their fresh and tender green; The birds of the thicket shall end their pleasant song, And the nightingale shall cease to chant the evening long; The kine of the pasture shall feel the dart that kills, And all the fair white flocks shall perish from the hills; The goat and antlered stag, the wolf and the fox, The wild boar of the wood, and the chamois of the rocks, And the strong and fearless bear, in the trodden dust shall lie; And the dolphin of the sea, and the mighty whale shall die, And realms shall be dissolved, and empires be no more; And they shall bow to death, who ruled from shore to shore; And the great globe itself (so the holy writings tell), With the rolling firmament, where the starry armies dwell, Shall melt with fervent heat—they shall all pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye.

God's delight in us

God delights in His people with tender love, like a mother cherishes her child.

A little babe, if it had wit, and could look at itself, would say, "How inferior I am to my father! What feeble hands! What tottering feet! I am a poor, puny, dependent creature." Yes, but that is not the way in which the mother thinks of it. She spies out a loveliness in the weakness, and a beauty in the littleness of her babe. She looks at it until her eyes swim with tears lest anything should harm it. She thinks it the most beautiful thing that ever was, and doubtless it is so to her. Our God has all the instincts of motherhood and fatherhood blended in one; and when He looks upon His church He calls her "Hephzibah"—"My delight is in her." I read, not that He delights in the works of Nature alone, but He rejoices in the habitable parts of the earth. He does not rejoice in the works of His hands so much as in the works of His heart. The whole Godhead is at home in blessing those whom everlasting love has ordained to everlasting life.

Center Of Life

True life centers on God's divine love, not self or the world.

Some men have a Ptolemaic notion of life; their little earth is the center around which all things move. If I have been of that sort, I will remember that the age has outgrown that. It is time to reconstruct one’s life on the Copernican theory, admitting that ours is only a little earth in the great universe, and finding our true solar center in the great moral gravitation of the divine love.--FRANKLIN NOBLE, D.D., “Sermons in Illustration.”

from Cyclopedia of Illustrations for Public Speakers · Robert Scott and William C. Stiles life

Hardness Of Heart

Divine love can soften even the hardest human hearts like atmosphere melts a meteor.

The souls of men are not like the “constant” quantities of the mathematician. Divine love softens the hardest human hearts.

A mass of ironstone, dark and adamantine, flies through space and suddenly impinges on our atmosphere. There is a flash in the air and men gaze on the apparition of the blazing meteor. They have seen an aerolite. The soft, invisible, impalpable atmosphere receives the hard, ferruginous aerolite and at once melts it. (Text.)

from Cyclopedia of Illustrations for Public Speakers · Robert Scott and William C. Stiles

The God Who Suffers

Philippians 2:5

IF GOD DOES NOT GRIEVE, THEN CAN HE LOVE AT ALL? AN ARGUMENT FOR GOD’S EMOTIONS.

DOES GOD EVER FEEL DISTRESSED?

The early Christian theologians said no. They accepted the Greek idea of divine impassibility, the notion that God cannot suffer since God stands outside the realm of human pain and sorrow.Philo, the Hellenistic Jewish theologian, had already assumed this in his understanding of Israel’s God. Virtually all the early church fathers took it for granted, denying God any emotions because they might interrupt his tranquillity. The Council of Chalcedon (a.d. 451) declared as “vain babblings” the idea that the divine nature could suffer, and it condemned those who believed it.

Like most theologians of Chalcedonian and earlier times, Calvin - - and Reformed theology after him - - assumed divine impassibility. The Westminster Confession of Faith explicitly asserted that God is “without body, parts, or passions, immutable.” Similarly, a contemporary evangelical theologian argues that when Jesus died on the cross it was his human nature that suffered, not the divine.

But I would like to argue that this Greek notion that emotions or pain are unfit for deity is quite alien to biblical thought, and it leads to some unhappy results, as we will see.

CAN AN UNFEELING GOD LOVE?

A theology that embraces the idea that God cannot suffer has to answer the question: Can God love? Abraham Heschel rightly said that the essence of Hebraic prophetic faith is that God takes the people of his covenantal love so seriously that he suffers for their actions. God “indwells” the Israelites so that he even goes with them into Babylonian exile and feels their sorrowful plight. This capacity to feel for the other in vulnerable love is part of what it means to be God.

If love implies vulnerability, the traditional understanding of God as impassible makes it impossible to say that “God is love.” An almighty God who cannot suffer is poverty stricken because he cannot love or be involved. If God remains unmoved by whatever we do, there is really very little point in doing one thing rather than the other. If friendship means allowing oneself to be affected by another, then this unmoved, unfeeling deity can have no friends or be our friend.

Elie Wiesel, Jewish survivor of the Holocaust, never shrinks from saying that the opposite of love is not hatred but indifference. If God were indifferent, he could not love. This is made plain in Wiesel’s story about the hanging of two Jewish men and a youth in a Nazi concentration camp. All the prisoners, Wiesel included, were paraded before the gallows to witness this horrifying spectacle. “The men died quickly, but the death throes of the youth lasted for half an hour. ‘Where is God? Where is he?’ someone asked behind me. As the youth still hung in torment in the noose after a long time, I heard the man call again, ‘Where is God?’ And I heard a voice in myself answer: ‘Where is he? He is here. He is hanging there on the gallows.’” Any other answer would be blasphemy, says Jergen Moltmann.

God suffers because God wills to love. When I was eight years old, I lost my father to cancer. A week after his burial, I became severely ill. The pain in my body eventually paralyzed me. I still remember how my mother, newly widowed, cared for me. She did not discuss with me how I felt. Instinctively she took me into her arms and caressed my back with her gentle hands, reassuring me with words of comfort and love for me. I grew so sick that I was hospitalized. Since we lived in a remote village about 10 miles from the hospital, my mother carried me there on her back, walking powerfully, uphill and down. With tears streaming down her cheek, she said: “Son, Daddy is not here. But Mommy is still here. Hang in there. We will make it to the hospital soon.”

This childhood experience confirmed for me that a love that does not suffer with the suffering of the beloved is not love at all. What consolation would it have been if my mother had remained aloof from my suffering? Of what help to wounded people is a God who knows nothing of pain himself? “Only the suffering God can help,” Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote from his death cell. God helps not through supernatural miracles, but through his own wounds - - his suffering with victims and sufferers.

Our Christian foreparents were right to speak of God as impassible if that means God is not emotionally unstable and cannot be manipulated by humans. But they were wrong to conclude from this that God has no passion. They were wrong to think a suffering God is an imperfect being who necessarily seeks his perfection and tries to overcome his deficiency though actions. C. S. Lewis makes a helpful distinction between “gift love” (AGAPE) and “need love” (EROS). God does not act out of need love - - a love dominated by self - seeking desires. Rather, God acts out of gift love - - a free, self - giving love - - sharing his boundless goodness without thought of return. God’s goodness means that he loves us with a completely unconditional love, involving himself with us even in our pain.

If God is devoid of passions, we would have to rewrite the Bible. The Bible eloquently affirms that God can be wounded. In Hosea, for instance, God cries out about wayward Israel: “How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? ... My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and no mortal, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath” (11:8 - 9, NRSV).

God suffered the pain of the broken relationship with Israel, but as the Japanese scholar Kazoh Kitamori comments: “The ‘pain’ of God reflects his will to love the object of his wrath.” God’s anger is not a childish loss of temper nor is it a frustrated love turned sour or vindictive. Rather, it is an expression of pure love that does not allow him to stand by idly in the face of unrighteousness. God’s true nature is active love; wrath is God’s “strange work,” which opposes anything that stands between God and us. Wrath is God’s love burning hot in the presence of sin, proof that he cares.

WAS GOD PRESENT AT THE CROSS?

If the attribute of impassibility is ascribed to God, there can be no real incarnation of God in Jesus. If God is denied suffering, then the Cross cannot be a genuine revelation of God.

The Greek idea of God obscured the fullness of God’s self - revelation in Jesus. One result was that the early church fathers concluded that Jesus suffered in his humanity, not in his divinity; and they separated Jesus’ humanity from his deity, thus in effect making each nature an independent person, as the Nestorian heresy does, thereby jeopardizing the unity of Christ. To say that the Son of God, as divine, is impassible is to affirm that Christ’s divinity is untouched by the suffering of his humanity. Consequently there is no real Incarnation; or if there is, it is robbed of its main significance.

But God has willed that we should think of Jesus when we think about him. For God is revealed to us in the person of Jesus rather than through philosophy. Evangelicals should not be offended at the thought that the death of the crucified Christ involved not only the humanity of Jesus but also his deity.

As John Austin Baker says, “The crucified Jesus is the only accurate picture of God the world has ever seen.” The sight of Jesus on the cross disclosed God as one who suffers with humanity. If we take the Trinity and Incarnation seriously and recognize that this human Jesus is the second divine person, there is no suffering closer to God than the suffering of the human Jesus. Thus, the human suffering of Jesus is really God’s own suffering: God suffered as we do.

Further, if God is denied suffering, the Cross is evacuated of Christ’s deity. Consequently, we have no salvation through him. Christ’s death would be the death of just another human being, not the death of the Son of God. And his work would be merely a human work. On this delicate topic, the Lutheran theologians of FORMULA OF CONCORD quoted Luther as saying: “Unless God is on the balance and throws his weight as a counterbalance, we shall sink to the bottom of the scale.... If it is not true that God died for us, but only a man died, we are lost. But if God’s death and God lie dead in the opposite scale, then his side goes down and we go upward like a light or empty pan. But he could not have sat in the pan unless he became a man like us, so that it could be said: God dead, God’s passion, God’s blood, God’s death.”

Here is no surrogate; God himself died a real death, and the outcome - - our salvation - - hung in the balance. The greatest marvel of the gospel is that the divinity was present in the Cross, working out our salvation through the suffering of Christ. God has suffered our sin and his own wrath, thereby defeating sin. Johann Rist’s Good Friday hymn echoes this:

O Great Distress, God Himself Lies Dead, He Died Upon The Cross, In This He Won The Kingdom Of Heaven For Love Of Us.

If it were true that only Christ’s humanity suffered and his divinity had no part in the action of his passion, then he is of no more use to us than any other saint because his death was merely a human death. In order for God to redeem humanity from the power of death, his act must be at one and the same time a human and a divine act. God had to suffer and die in Christ. God let himself be overtaken by death in the suffering and dying of Christ, and yet he remained the victor over death.

Unlike Calvin and his followers, Luther proclaims a Christ in whom the divinity did suffer. The Reformed tradition should listen to Luther, who affirms that if God cannot really experience crucifixion, then “Christ would be too weak a savior.”

The God who is known in Christ is the God who came in lowliness and humility, not in power and majesty. Christ emptied himself, not of his divinity, but of the “divine form” by assuming a “servant form” (Phil. 2:5 - 11). He took the form of a servant, yet he remained divine. He did not withdraw his deity from the Cross, but he did not use his divine power to protect himself. God in Christ experienced a public humiliation, abandoning all self - protection and self - defense in order to save us. God’s SELF was poured out for us and for our salvation.

If it were not the very God himself who became sin and suffered for us, what hope of life is left? What God cannot participate in, he cannot redeem. If God has not entered into our suffering and death, then there is no hope for redemption of our pain.

HOW THEN SHOULD WE LIVE?

What are the implications of recognizing this vulnerable God as the Christian God?

The church and the Christian life should be patterned after the Cross. Just as the way of Christ was through a cross, Christ’s followers must also experience the darkness and suffering of the cross. As Luther wrote graphically, “If you are a lily and rose of Christ, therefore, know that you will live among thorns.”

The world must observe that we suffer not because of public scandal or vice, but because we hold to the Word of God, preach it, and practice it. In suffering we are conformed to the image of Christ.

God’s loving vulnerability thus provides us with a model for Christian living in this world. Being vulnerable necessarily involves risk, pain, and loss. Acts 9 tells how Ananias, in obedience to the Lord’s vision, risked his reputation to seek out Saul, the enemy of the Christian faith; and then the whole Damascus church, in love and obedience, risked its security by forgiving Saul’s violent past and welcoming him into the church.

This is what it means to make love our first priority. “Where the world exploits, [the Christian] will dispossess himself, and where the world oppresses, he will stoop down and raise up the oppressed. If the world refuses justice, the Christian will pursue mercy, and if the world takes refuge in lies, he will open his mouth for the dumb, and bear testimony to the truth ... [on behalf of] Jew or Greek, bond or free, strong or weak, noble or base” (Bonhoeffer).

[see #4057, story of arrogant and wealthy pagan]

The church of the suffering God must exist in and for this world, accepting suffering itself as it cares for the needy, the sick, and the poor and seeks the liberation of the oppressed. If God is found in the human suffering of Jesus, we should not then preach a triumphalist doctrine of health, wealth, and freedom from affliction for those who believe.

Once a Christian couple came to me in Russia, requesting that I pray for divine healing for their sick baby. After prayer, the baby died in my arms. One could have asked, “Where is God?” Triumphalism has nothing to say at such moments, except lashing the wounded into deeper guilt and pain for their supposed lack of faith. But these bereaved parents said: “It is better to be in the storm with Jesus than to be in it without Jesus.”

[see #4058, story of communist official angry at God.]

Our compassionate God meets us in every corner of our lives. Catherine of Siena once cried out: “My God and Lord, where were you when my heart was plunged in darkness and filth?” And she heard a voice: “My daughter, did you feel it? I was in your heart.” Because our Lord knows pain firsthand, we can pray with confidence that he will be moved by our cries.

How our prayers are answered is a matter of God’s wisdom and sovereignty, and to these we may well submit with the assurance that he hugs us close to him as his beloved.

In turmoil and trials, Staupitz’s pastoral advice to Luther speaks to us, too: “Contemplate the wounds of Christ and the blood that was shed for you.” With this we can be assured in our hearts, “I am his, and he is mine! He was in agony for us on the cross; he feels for me and with me still; HE CARES!” And that, surely, is the best news ever.

________

Dennis Ngien, preaching associate at First Alliance Church of Metro - Toronto and adjunct faculty member at Ontario Theological Seminary, is an international evangelist and the author of THE SUFFERING OF GOD ACCORDING TO MARTIN LUTHER’S THEOLOGIA CRUCIS (Peter Lang Publishing, 1995).

Copyright(c) 1997 by Christianity Today, Inc/Christianity Today Magazine. February 3, 1997, Vol. 41, No. 2, Page 38; 7T2wh7T2038726i *

from Online Christianity Today (America Online) · Dennis Ngien via Kerux Sermon and Illustration Database cross

Maternal, God’S Love

God’s love includes a gentle, patient, maternal compassion toward His people.

The pagan Stoic poet, Cleanthes, who flourished B.C. 260, would seem to have caught a glimpse of the maternal quality of God. One of his prayers is:

“Merciful mother! bestow favor upon me, thy poor worshiper, whatever evil I may be guilty of. Thou hast a maternal nature, art gentle and patient, thou supreme one.” (Text.)

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