100 Sermon Illustrations on Trust in God

One day when Lady Raffles, while in India, was almost overwhelmed with grief for the loss of favorite child, unable to bear the sight of her other children, or the light of day, and humbled on her couch with a feeling of misery, she was addressed by a poor, ignorant, native woman, of the lowest class, who had been employed about the nursery, in terms not to be forgotten:—"I am come, because you have been here many days shut up in a dark room, and no one dares to come near you. Are you not ashamed to grieve in this manner, when you ought to be thanking God for having given you the most beautiful child that ever was seen? Were you not the envy of every body? Did any one ever see him or speak of him without admiring him? And instead of letting this child continue in this world till he should be worn out with trouble and sorrow, has not God taken him to heaven in all his beauty? For shame!—leave off weeping, and let me open a window."

MINER.— Stephen Karkeet, twenty-five years old, whilst employed under ground in a mine, in the parish of Newlyn, was buried alive, by the falling together of the shaft in which he was, at the depth of five fathoms from the surface. The first person who arrived at the spot was a man named George Trevarrow, who called to know if any living being was beneath, when Karkeet answered, in a firm voice, "I feel the cold hand of death upon me; if there is any hope of my being rescued from this untimely grave, tell me; and if not, tell me." Trevarrow at once informed him that there was not a shadow of hope left, as upwards of four tons of rubbish had fallen round and upon him, and that suffocation must inevitably take place before human aid could afford relief. On hearing which, Karkeet exclaimed, "All's well; it is the Lord! let him do what seemeth him good. Tell my dear father and mother not to be sorry as those without hope for me; 'tis now only that I am happy—'tis now that I feel the advantages of a religious life; now I feel the Lord is my stronghold; and now I feel I am going to heaven." Here his voice failed him; he never spake again.

Luther gives an account of a duke of Saxony, who made war unnecessarily upon a bishop of Germany. At that period ecclesiastics could command military resources, as well as the secular nobility. But the weapons of the good bishop were not carnal. The duke thought proper, in a very artful way, to send a spy into the company of the bishop, to ascertain his plan of carrying on the contest. On his return, the spy was eagerly interrogated by the duke. "O, sir," replied he, "you may surprise him without fear, he is doing nothing, and making no preparation." "How is that," asked the duke; "what does he say?" "He says he will feed his flock, preach the word, visit the sick; and that, as for this war, he should commit the weight of it to God himself." "Is it so?" said the duke; "then let the devil wage war against him; I will not."

The reader of American history will recollect, that in the beginning of the 18th century a desultory and most dreadful warfare was carried on by the natives against the European settlers; a warfare that was provoked—as such warfare has almost always originally been—by the injury and violence of the [nominal] Christians. The mode of destruction was secret and sudden. The barbarians sometimes lay in wait for those who might come within their reach, on the highway or in the fields, and shot them without warning, and sometimes they attacked the Europeans in their houses, "scalping some, and knocking out the brains of others." From this horrible warfare the inhabitants sought safety by abandoning their houses, and retiring to fortified places, or to the neighborhood of garrisons; and those whom necessity still compelled to pass beyond the limits of such protection, provided themselves with arms for their defence. But amidst this dreadful desolation and universal terror, the Society of Friends, who were a considerable portion of the whole population, were steadfast to their principles. They would neither retire to garrisons, nor provide themselves with arms. They remained openly in the country, whilst the rest were flying to the forts. They still pursued their occupations in the fields or at their homes, without a weapon either for annoyance or defence. And what was their fate? They lived in security and quiet. The habitation, which, to his armed neighbor, was the scene of murder and of the scalping knife, was to the unarmed Quaker a place of safety and of peace. Three of the Society were however killed. And who were they? They were three who abandoned their principles. Two of these victims were men who, in the simple language of the narrator, "used to go to their labor without any weapons, and trusted to the Almighty, and depended on his providence to protect them, (it being their principle not to use weapons of war to offend others, or to defend themselves;) but a spirit of distrust taking place in their minds, they took weapons of war to defend themselves, and the Indians, who had seen them several times without them and let them alone, saying, they were peaceable men and hurt nobody, therefore, they would not hurt them—now seeing them have guns, and supposing they designed to kill the Indians, they therefore shot the men dead. The third whose life was sacrificed was a woman, "who had remained in her habitation," not thinking herself warranted in going "to a fortified place for preservation," neither she, her son, nor daughter, nor to take thither the little ones: but the poor woman after some time began to let in a slavish fear, and advised her children to go with her to a fort not far from their dwelling. She went; and shortly afterwards "the bloody, cruel Indians, lay by the way, and killed her."

"Several years ago," says a correspondent of the N. York Evangelist, "there lived in one of our seaports, A. B. and C., all of whom were owners of merchant vessels. Each of these men loaded a ship at the same time, which was to go first to Egypt, and then to the Baltic, to one of the Russian ports. All being loaded, they waited for a favorable wind. The harbor was so situated that there was no egress for ships except the wind blew in a particular direction. On Sabbath morning the wind was fair. The masters of the vessels went to their respective owners for sailing orders. A. and B. immediately had their ships put to sea; but C. told the master that he must remain in port till the next day. Before Monday morning the wind had changed, and remained contrary till the next Sunday, when it again came round fair. The master of the vessel again repaired to the house of C. to procure the ship's papers, and sailing orders. But, to his astonishment, C. remarked that his ship must not leave port on the Sabbath. The captain attempted to reason the point with him, but all in vain. He said if his ship never sailed it should not put to sea on the Lord's day. He was willing to trust in Divine Providence. Some time during the following week the ship sailed. It arrived in Egypt just as the ships of A. and B. were about to sail for the Baltic. In the meantime information had circulated through the country that American vessels were in port, wishing to sell their cargoes, and purchase a certain kind of their produce, which, if I mistake not, was rice. The desired article was brought in such abundance that the market was glutted by the time C.'s ship arrived. In consequence of this his cargo was sold at an advanced price, and his ship loaded at a much better rate than the others. C.'s vessel then proceeded on her voyage up the Baltic. The ships were to dispose of their rice in the Russian port, and load for home with iron. C.'s ship arrived in the Baltic after those of A. and B. had purchased their freight, and nearly loaded. Fortune, or to speak more properly, Providence operated here much as it did in the Mediterranean. Abundance of iron was brought to market, and there were enough purchasers for the rice. All these ships reached America about the same time, that of C. having cleared as much by the voyage as both the others. Thus C. found by experience, that "in keeping God's commands there is great reward," even in this world.

Capt. Bourne states that about 1829, he went out from Rhode Island in a brig on a fishing voyage along the coast of Labrador, with a crew of thirteen men. Three other vessels, with larger crews, from the same state, accompanied him. When they arrived upon the ground, Captain B. determined that he and his crew should sacredly regard the Sabbath; but the other crews prosecuted their employment on that day the same as on others. After fishing with them in company for two weeks, and finding it in some respects quite disagreeable, he parted from them, and went farther north, and fished in company with English vessels, who pursued the same course respecting the Sabbath day which he did himself. Trusting in that Providence which favors those who regard the true and right, he was not disappointed. He and his men succeeded in getting a "full voyage," cured their fish and sold it some four weeks sooner than any of the Sabbath-breaking vessels that accompanied them. What was better, Capt. B. and his crew made more profits to a share in less time, than those who profaned the Sabbath and wore themselves out by laboring hard seven days in the week.

A gentlemen, says Dr. Edwards, belonging to a fishing town, which sends out more than two hundred vessels in a year, writes as follows: "I think it may safely be stated that those vessels which have not fished on the Sabbath have, taken together, met with more than ordinary success. The vessel whose earnings were the highest, the last year and the year before, was one on board which the Sabbath was kept by refraining from labor, and by religious worship. There is one firm which has had eight vessels in its employ this season. Seven have fished on the Sabbath, and one has not. That one has earned seven hundred dollars more than the most successful of the six. There are two other firms employing each three vessels. Two out of the three, in each case, have kept the Sabbath, and in each case have earned more than two-thirds of the profits."

God can bring us a discharge if we regulate our pace to fall in with His (v. 9). March right up to the difficulty (v. 10). Nothing can hinder when God is working out our deliverance

Luther was very importunate at the throne of grace to know the mind of God in a certain matter; and it seemed to him as if he heard God speak to his heart thus: “I am not to be traced.” “If He is not to be traced, He may be trusted; and that religion is of little value which will not enable a man to trust God where he can neither trace nor see.”

During the absence of Rabbi Meir, his two beautiful children died. His wife carried them to her room and laid them upon her bed. On reaching home, the Rabbi’s first question was for his children. “They are not far off,” the wife replied, and then addressed him thus: “Rabbi, I would propose one question: A few days ago a person entrusted some jewels to my keeping, and now He demands them; should I give them back to Him?” “What!” he exclaimed, “would you hesitate to restore to every one his own?” “No,” she answered, “but I thought it best not to restore them without acquainting you.” Then she led him to the room, and, removing the white covering from the little bodies, revealed the silent forms of his children. With tearful eyes and throbbing heart he exclaimed: “Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

An aged Christian who had long been an invalid, and was dependent on Christian charity for her support, on sending for a new physician who had just come into the place, said to him, “Doctor, I wish to put myself under your care, but I cannot do it unless you will trust my Father.” “Well, ma’am,” replied the physician, “I believe your Father is rich; I may safely trust Him.”

A person says, "I cannot understand how I am to get along when I leave my father's house." Why should you see it till that time comes? What if a person going on a journey of five years should undertake to carry provisions, and clothes, and gold enough to last him during the whole time, lugging them as he travelled, like a veritable Englishman, with all creation at his back! If he is wise he will supply himself at the different points where he stops. When he gets to London, let him buy what he needs there; when he gets to Paris, let him buy what he needs there; when he gets to Rome, let him buy what he needs there; and when he gets to Vienna, Dresden, Munich, St. Petersburg, and Canton, let him buy what he needs at these places! He will find at each of them, and all the other cities which he visits, whatever things he requires. Why, then, should he undertake to carry them around the globe with him? It would be the greatest folly imaginable. And as to gold, why should he load down his pockets with that? Let him take a circular letter of credit, which is good, yet not usable till he arrives at the places where he needs it. When he gets to London, let him present it to Baring Brothers; when he gets to Paris, let him present it to the Rothschilds. And as he proceeds, let him place it in the hands of the bankers of the various places at which he stops; and he will get the means for prosecuting his journey. Now God gives every believer a circular letter of credit for life, and says, "Whenever you get to a place where you need assistance, take your letter to the Banker, and the needed assistance will be given you."— Henry Ward Beecher.

See PEDIGREE.

ANXIETY, COST OF

An English auctioneer tells the following story:

I had eight acres of land to sell, and there was one landowner in the district, whom I will call Mr. Robinson, who was very anxious to secure this particular piece of land because it adjoined his own estate. He had already attempted to acquire it by private arrangement, but the negotiations had fallen through.

Being engaged at the funeral of a relative on the day of the sale, he left very definite instructions with his butler, who had only entered his service a day or two before, to attend the sale and buy the land at any price. The butler duly came to the sale and took up his station in the old chimney-corner, out of sight of every one excepting myself. It so happened, however, that Mr. Robinson was back from the funeral earlier than he expected, and, going to the sale and failing to observe his butler, began the bidding with an offer of $2,500. Up and up went the price, the landowner and the butler bidding against one another like Trojans, until at last the field was knocked down to the latter at $7,500. The feelings of Mr. Robinson and the amusement of the company may be easily imagined when the purchaser remarked in a quiet voice, “For Mr. Robinson. Here’s his check for you to fill in for the deposit.”

Fortunately, Mr. Robinson was anything but a poor man, and he had benefited to the tune of $200,000 in the loss of his relative, so the few extra thousands he paid did not hurt him.

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The medical missionary among the Afghans, Dr. T. L. Pennell, on one of his journeys came to a village across the border late at night. Many outlaws infested the village, but the chief to whose care he had entrusted himself took the precaution of putting his bed in the center of six of his men, fully armed, each of whom was to keep guard in turn. Dr. Pennell being very tired after a hard day’s work, soon fell sound asleep. This proved to be his safety. Some of the fanatical spirits wanted to kill him in sheer wantonness, but the others said, pointing to his prostrate form peacefully sleeping, “See, he has trusted himself entirely to our protection, and because he trusts us he is sleeping so soundly; therefore no harm must be done to him in our village.” His confidence disarmed their deadly impulse. (Text.)

See ESSENTIALS; VERSATILITY.

CONFIDENCE IN MEN

If a man can invest his hundreds of thousands of dollars on the ocean or in distant countries, where men can not understand the documents we write, it shows that there is trust between man and man, buyers and sellers; and if there is trust between them it is because experience has created the probabilities of truthfulness in the actions of men and all the concordant circumstances. If men did not believe in the truth of men, they never would send to China, Japan or Mexico their great properties and interests, with no other guarantee than that the men are trustworthy. The shipmaster must be trustworthy, the officers of the government must be trustworthy, and that business goes on and increases the world over is a silent testimony that, bad as men do lie, they do not lie bad enough to separate man from man.

— HENRY WARD BEECHER

One of those strong currents, always mysterious, and sometimes impossible to foresee, had set us into shore out of our course, and the ship was blindly beating on a dreary coast of sharp and craggy rocks.

Suddenly we heard a voice up in the fog in the direction of the wheel-house, ringing like a clarion above the roar of the waves, and the clashing sounds on shipboard, and it had in it an assuring, not a fearful tone. As the orders came distinctly and deliberately through the captain’s trumpet, to “shift the cargo,” to “back her,” to “keep her steady,” we felt somehow that the commander up there in the thick mist on the wheel-house knew what he was about, and that through his skill and courage, by the blessing of heaven, we should all be rescued. The man who saved us so far as human aid ever saves drowning mortals, was one fully competent to command a ship; and when, after weary days of anxious suspense, the vessel leaking badly, and the fires in danger of being put out, we arrived safely in Halifax, old Mr. Cunard, agent of the line, on hearing from the mail officer that the steamer had struck on the rocks and had been saved only by the captain’s presence of mind and courage, simply replied: “Just what might have been expected in such a disaster; Captain Harrison is always master of the situation.”

— JAMES T. FIELDS

A man who spurns the guidance of others or of God is like this self-confident sea captain:

A bright boy went to sea; he loved it and rose to quick promotion. While quite a young man he became master of a ship. One day a passenger spoke to him upon the voyage, and asked if he should anchor off a certain headland, supposing he would anchor there, and telegraph for a pilot to take the vessel into port.

“Anchor! no, not I. I mean to be in dock with the morning tide.”

“I thought perhaps you would signal for a pilot.”

“I am my own pilot,” was the curt reply.

Intent upon reaching port by morning he took a narrow channel to save distance. Experienced sailors on board shook their heads dubiously, while cautious passengers besought the young captain to take a wider course. He only laughed at their fears and declared he would be in dock by daybreak. A sudden squall swooped down upon them; wild alarm spread throughout the vessel. Enough to say that the captain was ashore earlier than he promised--tossed sportively upon the weedy beach, a dead thing that the waves were weary of, and his ship and freight were scattered over the angry sea. The glory of that young man was strength; but he was his own pilot.

One of the darkest and most trying experiences of the war was at the time Lincoln relieved McClellan of his command:

Loud cries of dissatisfaction arose in the north. Men came to Lincoln clamoring for changes in commands and plans and policies. “Gentlemen,” he said to one delegation of advisers, “suppose all the property you were worth was in gold and you had put it in the hands of Blondin to carry across the Niagara River on a rope. Would you shake the cable or keep shouting at him, ‘Blondin, stand up a little straighter; Blondin, stoop a little more; go a little faster; lean a little more to the north; lean a little more to the south’? No, you would hold your breath as well as your tongue and keep your hands off until he was safe over. The Government is carrying an enormous weight. Untold treasures are in our hands; we are doing the very best we can. Don’t badger us. Keep silence and we will get you safe across.”--JAMES MORGAN, “Abraham Lincoln, the Boy and the Man.”

This note of resignation is written by F. C. Browning:

I can not feel That all is well when darkening clouds conceal The shining sun; But then, I know God lives and loves; and say, since it is so, Thy will be done.

I do not see Why God should e’en permit some things to be, When He is love. But I can see Tho often dimly through the mystery, His hand above!

I do not know Where falls the seed that I have tried to sow With greatest care, But I shall know The meaning of each waiting hour below, Sometime, somewhere!

I do not look Upon the present, nor in nature’s book, To read my fate; But I do look For promised blessings in God’s holy Book, And I can wait. (Text.)

The ship upon clearing the harbor ran into a half-pitching, half-rolling sea that became particularly noticeable about the time the twenty-five passengers at the captain’s table sat down to dinner.

“I hope that all twenty-five of you will have a pleasant trip,” the captain told them as the soup appeared, “and that this little assembly of twenty-four will reach port much benefited by the voyage. I look upon these twenty-two smiling faces much as a father does upon his family, for I am responsible for the safety of this group of seventeen. I hope that all fourteen of you will join me later in drinking to a merry trip. I believe that we eight fellow passengers are most congenial, and I applaud the judgment which chose from the passenger-list these three persons for my table. You and I, my dear sir, er--here, steward! Bring on the fish and clear away these dishes.”--_National Monthly._

See DEATH, CHRISTIAN ATTITUDE TOWARD.

TRUST

It is a pleasant sight sometimes to see a child and a father at a crowded London crossing; to the child’s imagination the street with its rattle of horses and vehicles is the picture of danger and death--to attempt to get to the other side alone would be certain destruction; but as the father stands at the edge of the pavement, the child looks up to him with a glance of perfect trust and puts its hand in his, and goes with him through the tangled maze of traffic without a thought of danger or fear. This is just what the converted soul does with regard to the Lord Jesus Christ. It looks up into His gentle face with trust, and goes with Him whithersoever He will lead it; there can be no danger and no misgiving; sin and temptation have lost their power; the soul shall pass through the tangled maze of life safely.

I recently came from my summer home to New York by the night train. The night was dark, foggy and rainy. I did not know the engineer. I was not sure he could see the curves, the switches, the grades. It was possible that he might fall asleep at his post and ditch the train. And yet, believing he was trustworthy, else he would not be in so responsible a position, I went to my berth, undrest, slept soundly, and when I awoke the bright sun was shining into my window, with my destination reached. I did not feel I did a foolhardy act, tho engineers have slept at their posts, have missed the switches, have ditched their trains. And yet I trusted my life to a man I had never seen, and under most unfavorable circumstances. Thousands are doing that very thing daily. How much more should we trust an overruling Providence guiding His children through all storms and darkness, when our hearts bear witness to His fidelity.

— ROBERT MACDONALD

Sermon in King David series. David the Outcast. 1 Samuel 18:6-12

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EVERY CRUTCH KICKED

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I. Do you ever have a day when everything goes wrong?

II. Can people stand alone?

A. Society says we shouldn't need crutches.

B. Most of us are not made this way.

III. Removal of David's crutches.

A. Crisis reviewed.

B. Crutches removed.

IV. Truth about crutches that are outside God.

A. All human crutches are unreliable.

B. They become substitutes for the Lord.

C. They offer only temporary relief.

V. Our disappointments are God's appointments.

A. Have you ever been disappointed?

B. God uses those to make you seek a divine appointment with him.

VI. "Leaning" lessons for life's cripples to learn.

A. Three types of people here today.

1) Crutchless. Sitting in the cave of Adullam.

2) Been crutchless at some point, but didn't learn the lesson.

3) You have your crutches, always have.

B. There is nothing wrong with leaning ... IF you are leaning on God.

#3374

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Athens had two cities--down in the plain was the city of work, with shops, ox carts, plows and hoes, on the hillside were the shops where men bought and sold. But the crags above were crowned with temples, where beauty and worship had their home. Oft in the hours of tumult and strife, when the workers feared the coming of enemies, they turned their thoughts upward toward the Parthenon, and drank in the beauty of Athena’s face, and her calm, white hand seemed to fall upon the brow, to allay the fear, and breathe peace to the frightened working men. Greek culture and character represented the interplay of the upper and the lower city. So it is that man’s life of work, and his invisible life of faith and worship are knitted together. The inventor, the statesman, not less than the saint and the martyr, endure, as seeing God. (Text.)

— N. D. HILLIS

Once I was out with a guide climbing a mountain, and the guide himself lost his way. He was compelled, greatly chagrined, to beat about for quite a while till he found it. This could never happen to Christ.

Sometimes a guide in the Alps, in spite of all his care, loses the life of a traveler. The unfortunate man may slip and the rope may break; or, if the rope holds, he may be heavy enough to drag down his guide with him into the crevasse.

When a traveler hesitated to place his foot in the hand of a guide who asked him to step upon it out over a precipice when rounding a perilous turn, the guide reassured him by saying, “This hand never lost a life.” That was true of the guide, but it did not prove that he never would lose a life.

Of Christ’s hand stretched out to help us it may be said truly: “This hand never lost a life, and never can lose one.”--AMOS R. WELLS, in _The Christian Endeavor World_.