The last three weeks were about the shape of a sermon: the first two minutes, the last two minutes, and the bridges in between. This week, the stories.
You’ve probably had this happen. Someone shakes your hand at the door and says, “I loved that story about your grandfather.” You ask what it was illustrating, and there’s a pause. They remember the story. They don’t remember the point.
The problem: the illustration was memorable, but it wasn’t tethered. It carried its own weight instead of carrying the weight of the text.
An illustration is supposed to be a window. It lets light in on something true so people can see it. When it becomes the most interesting thing in the room, it stops being a window and starts being the view.
Compare these. A five-minute story about getting lost on a family road trip, followed by, “And sometimes we get lost spiritually too.” Or: “Psalm 23 says the shepherd leads. Most of us would rather have the map.” Then a short story about refusing to ask for directions, and back to the text in one sentence: “David didn’t say the Lord is my map. He said the Lord is my shepherd.” The first story stands alone. The second one points somewhere.
Pro-tip: Say the point before the story, and say it again right after.
A few questions to put to every illustration before Sunday:
Does it illustrate the big idea, or just the topic? A story about forgiveness in general isn’t the same as a story about the kind of forgiveness this passage describes.
Is it longer than the point it serves? If the setup takes three minutes and the application takes thirty seconds, people will know which one you cared about.
Does it land back in the text? The last sentence after a story should send people back to the passage, not on to the next story.
None of this means cut your stories. People need them, and Jesus told stories all the time. But his stories didn’t compete with his point. They were making the point.
Let the story serve the text. Then get out of its way.