Reading Time: 10 minutes
I’ve Got the Perfect Illustration for That!
I’ve been collecting them since before I started preaching—sermon illustrations. Early on, I bought quote books and dusty collections of illustrations. Before PCs were common, I clipped the “To Illustrate” sections from preaching journals and kept them in a box. Even now, I have a folder on Evernote filled with stories I’ve gathered, just waiting for the right sermon to come along.
And it seldom does.
In Homiletic, Buttrick wrote, “Illustrations . . . can make plain the obscure; they can help us to grasp the murky mysteries of faith.” But, mishandled, they add muck to the murky. As Buttrick warned, “they must be used with care.”
I haven’t always done that.
So, with plenty of experience in what not to do—and a few wins along the way—here are nine dos and don’ts to guide your use of illustrations in your sermons.
Don't write the sermon to fit the illustration
The very first sermon I ever preached existed for one reason: I’d heard another preacher tell a fantastic story, and I had to try it out. So I found a text—any text—that could justify using that illustration, and I jammed it in. The result? A forgettable sermon . . . but hey, everyone loved the story. I guess that’s something.
We all want to make an impact when we preach. And it’s true—illustrations tend to stick long after the rest of the message fades. That’s the power of narrative. But when we shoehorn a story into a sermon just to make an impression, we end up sacrificing the power of a well-grounded, gospel-centered message. The story shines, but the Scripture doesn’t.
Start with the text. Always. Let the dominant thought and purpose emerge through prayer and study. Then—and only then—find illustrations that amplify the truth, not distract from it.
Start with the Text.
Ironically, about forty years after that first sermon, I was working on a message and realized that story would make a perfect closing illustration. This time, it didn’t steal the spotlight—it served the word of God. I guess I’m lucky it only took me four decades to learn that.
Definition
Just to make sure we’re on the same page, I’m using Jeffery Campbell’s definition of Sermon Illustrations from his article, Illustrating the Sermon, in Michael Diduit’s Handbook of Contemporary Preaching:
“Illustrations are examples (often stories but not always) that clarify the listener’s understanding of the Scripture. They take abstract truth and bring it into the concrete world by helping the listener experience and apprehend the truth in a tangible way.”
Do check your sources
It was Sunday morning. I had practiced the sermon until I had it down pat. It was a stirring message from Psalm 23 about God as our loving shepherd. I planned to end with a powerful story I’d heard from another preacher—about how shepherds handle sheep that wander too much.
According to the story, the shepherd breaks the lamb’s leg. Then, while the break heals, he carries the lamb on his shoulders. The lamb grows accustomed to the shepherd’s presence, his warmth, and the sound of his voice. And once the leg is healed, the lamb never strays again.
Great illustration, right?
With twenty minutes until go time, something didn’t sit right. I did a quick Google search and was met with: “ARE YOU NUTS?? DON’T BREAK A SHEEP’S LEG!!!”
Panic! I spent the worship time rewriting the sermon.
There are way too many “too good to be true” preacher stories floating around out there. And with the tools we have today, there’s really no excuse for passing off an urban legend as a sermon illustration.
And here’s the kicker (uh . . . sorry, little lamb): if you don’t fact-check your story, you can bet someone in your congregation will.
Do illustrate the easy stuff.
Some doctrines are just hard to picture. The Trinity is like . . . uh . . . water? Reconciliation? It’s like balancing a checkbook—if anyone still remembers what that means.
Trying to find the perfect illustration for a big theological idea can lead to frustration—and worse, oversimplification or heresy. So why not stop sweating it?
One of my favorite preaching books, Saving Eutychus by Gary Millar and Phil Campbell, offers a surprising but wise tip: illustrate the simple parts of your sermon, not the most complex ones.
They write, “When the pressure is off, illustrating becomes incredibly easy. The simple images and ideas in your passage will trigger all the stories and associations you need; you’ll be swamped with possibilities, and you can use them when you need them.”
Their point is this: your listeners are often more capable of processing complex ideas than you think—especially if they’re already grounded in Scripture. But what helps them stay connected is seeing themselves in the text. So, illustrate where the human contact is.
Focus on What’s Clear First
Next time you’re stuck trying to illustrate a deep doctrine, zoom out. Where’s the everyday connection? Start there.
When you highlight the obvious, relatable parts of the passage, you give your audience a break. That mental breathing room helps them stay alert for the heavier truths that follow.
Don't always be the hero.
It’s a real temptation. You’re already the one standing up front, with everyone’s attention—why not strike a Superman pose and tell them how you fought off a grizzly bear with your bare hands and a Ryrie Study Bible?
Here’s the problem: they don’t need you to be the hero. They need you to be real.
Your listeners connect more deeply when you share moments of failure, not just triumph. You don’t have to be the perfect spouse, parent, or pastor. (Side note: your family doesn’t need to be perfect either.)
People Trust Vulnerability.
Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can say is, “I blew it.” And if that failure serves the message—or lets Scripture or a biblical character carry the moral weight—all the better.
Haddon W. Robinson wrote that the most effective illustrations “are those where your personal experience overlaps your listener’s personal experience.” In other words, your people don’t need a superhero in the pulpit—they need a fellow struggler.
And let’s be honest: they can smell a humble-brag from a mile away.
That said, you’re not called to be the hapless loser, either.
A steady stream of self-deprecating disasters can erode trust. Preach as someone who’s in it with them—who’s still learning, still growing, and still following Jesus. Show them what that looks like.
Do get specific.
I heard this point made beautifully in an interview Simon Sinek did with Phil Rosenthal, the creator of Everybody Loves Raymond. The show wasn’t built on generic characters—it featured a very specific family: an older brother who’s a police officer and lives with their parents? Not exactly universal, right?
And yet millions found the show relatable.
Why? As Phil put it, “The more specific you get, in writing and in everything in life, the more universal it becomes, the more people you hit. Because we all deal in specificity. So even if there’s a crazy thing about you that I don’t relate to, I’m gonna relate to it because I do a crazy thing too.”
Sinek responded, “We try to make things general to have mass appeal, but it fails because people can find no relevance for themselves. What is general is the feelings that go along with the stories. Get specific and let them feel what you felt.”
That’s fantastic advice for preachers.
It might feel counterintuitive, but specificity unlocks universality. The more clearly you describe a scene, the more real it becomes—not because people have lived your story, but because they’ve felt something like it in theirs.
So, get specific. Paint your illustrations with concrete nouns, vivid verbs, and sensory details your listeners can hold onto.
Do use a variety of sources.
One complaint I’ve never gotten about my preaching is, “Bret talks about sports too much.” I’ve heard sermons where nearly every illustration came from the same team, the same coach, and the same game—great for the sports fans—not so much for everyone else.
(If only I could get away with using Star Trek illustrations every week!)
The point is: vary your sources. Personal stories are great, but if that’s all you use, it starts to sound like a monologue. Biblical narratives are powerful but don’t assume every listener knows who Mephibosheth was. Stretch your range.
Speak Every Listener’s Language
Look for illustrations in church history, current events, pop culture, nature, literature, and yes—even sports.
And go easy on your greatest hits. That one story might have crushed it the first time, but if your listeners start finishing it in their heads, you’ve lost them. Save your favorites for when they’ll have the most impact.
Don't stretch the analogy past its limits.
Every metaphor leaks. That’s not a failure—it’s just the nature of analogies. They’re tools, not doctrines.
The danger comes when you push too far. You start by comparing grace to a courtroom pardon . . . and next thing you know, you’re assigning roles to the bailiff and trying to explain the Holy Spirit as a court stenographer.
If your illustration needs a second or third layer to “make it work,” it’s probably time to stop. Let the analogy make a single point, then move on.
Know when to land the plane. Otherwise, your illustration can unravel the very truth it was meant to illuminate.
Do keep it brief and purposeful.
Here’s something every preacher learns quickly: the illustration is rarely just the story. You need background info, definitions, and maybe even a little historical context just to make it land. And sometimes—after all that—it still doesn’t connect.
So, be brutal with yourself about the setup. If it takes more than a minute to explain, it’s probably too much. Either trim it down or cut it altogether.
Brevity comes naturally when your illustration is focused and purposeful. No matter how good the story is, you’re not telling it for its own sake. You’re telling it to serve the message. If it doesn’t move the sermon forward, it’s a distraction—no matter how well it’s told.
Do check cultural sensitivity.
My daughter once put me in my place after a sermon.
I’d shared a difficult story about a young woman I’d met at Starbucks. She’d told me why she would never return to church, and I used that story in my sermon. I didn’t mention her name, and no one in my congregation would have known her.
After the sermon, I asked my daughter what she thought. Her response: “Did she give you permission to share her story?”
That story didn’t belong to me—and I felt like a heel for thinking I had the right to use it.
Busted.
Culture has changed. Comments about people groups, trauma stories, and examples that once seemed like prime material for sermon illustrations are now, rightly, off limits—or at least deserve far greater care.
Always ask yourself, “Could this illustration wound rather than help?” And if you’re unsure, run it by trusted people before you share it from the pulpit.
Some stories aren’t yours to tell.
Go Tell a Better Story!
Craddock’s advice on sermon illustrations is worth heeding: “Illustrations, although they are rather simple, are not to be small and silly. Like all material in the sermon, they are to be worthy of their calling.”
This isn’t just about finding a cute story to hold your audience’s attention. It’s about choosing the right tool to reach the hearts and minds of the people God has placed in your care.
The right illustration can bring Scripture to life and anchor it in your listeners’ memories. But an illustration used carelessly can waste your hearers’ time—or worse, distract from God’s Word.
I’d Love to Hear from You!
So that’s my list. Now I’d love to hear yours. What would you add? Drop a comment below and share what you’ve learned about illustrating in sermons. Bonus points for embarrassing stories!
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