Dumb stories we preachers tell

“Whatever was I thinking?”

I’ve said that. And I’ve sometimes thought it about other preachers whose sermon illustrations just got entered into the competition for dumbest story of the year.

A “dumb” story in this piece, refers to an account of something that distracts from God’s message, or sucks all the air out of the room so that no one hears anything for the next 15 minutes, or overpowers the sermon so the story is all anyone remembers for the next week, or is mind-bogglingly offensive. Or is just plumb stupid, did we say that?

Most of us preachers have been guilty of telling one or two of those over the years. Or a hundred.

Consider this a call for greater discernment in selecting stories and illustrations, parables and news items for our sermons.

1) A story that overpowers the sermon and smothers whatever point you were making is unworthy and needs to be tossed.

Have you heard the one about the dad who went fishing with his son and the boy’s friend?

If you have not heard this one, where have you been? (smiley-face goes here)  The other kid was not a Christian, so when the boat capsized and the father could save only one of the two, he grabbed the unsaved child and let his son drown since he knew his son was saved and would go to Heaven. (The sermon is supposed to illustrate something about witnessing, I suppose.)

That is a truly terrible story. And, I can just about guarantee you two things….

1) It did not happen.  This surely evolved from some pastor “making up a situation” for his sermon, and then, seeing the effect it had on people, using it again before other audiences. Other preachers picked it up and before long, it went viral.

2) No one heard another thing the preacher said that day.  They did the same thing you and I did the first time we heard it, sat there wondering what we would have done in a similar situation, growing angry that such a choice had to be made in the first place, and becoming irritated that the preacher would put that mental burden on us.

Do. Not. Use. That. Story. Ever.

2) A story you like too much and tell too often should be jettisoned.

Telling a story several times to the same congregation causes it to backfire and do precisely the opposite to what you intended.

At a family reunion, one of my cousins called home to see how things were going. Her daughter gave a report on church that day and the sermon in particular. When she got off the phone, Cousin Annette said, “The pastor told that story of the kid who fell in the well and all the community came together to save her. I know he must have told it a hundred times! He does it to put a guilt trip on all Christians for not working together to save the lost.”

With an impish look, she said, “I’ve heard that story so many times, I now root against the rescuers. Die, kid!”

Not exactly the response the pastor was looking for. But that’s what happens when the preacher overuses a story. It turns off his audience and works against the point he wants to make.

3) A tale that offends anyone with even an ounce of discretion is one your sermon can do without.

At a denominational gathering, the primary speaker, a pastor of a significant church, told a story about his adolescent daughter.  “She is a blonde,” he said, “and she is soooo dumb that….” and he went on from there.  Mercifully, I have forgotten the involved tale he told about his daughter. The entire time, I was squirming in my seat, unable to believe what I was hearing.

At the end, the preacher said, “I’m just kidding. None of that happened. That was just a joke.”

If one person laughed, I didn’t notice.  We were all mortified–for the daughter who was the butt of this story, for the preacher who had no better judgment than to tell it, and for ourselves for having to hear it.

What did he preach that day?  I seriously doubt if anyone remembers.

We all have committed bonehead mistakes in the pulpit.  I have, and if you stay in the ministry long enough, chances are you will also. Thankfully, God’s people are gracious and will forgive us.

Traveling across the state, I had found a church service on a radio station.  The guest preacher of that congregation evidently had not been told that his message was being beamed out over the air waves.  Evidently, he thought he was talking to a bunch of “good ol’ boys under a southern shade tree” because he told a racial story using all the slanderous terms for the other race. While I have mercifully forgotten the details of the story, I recall how embarrassing it was even to listen to it.

Then, in the middle of the story, there was a long pause.  For a moment I thought the station was having trouble.

What happened is that someone informed the preacher (slipped him a note?)  that his sermon was being heard throughout that part of the state.  It was almost humorous hearing him stammering, back-tracking, and apologizing.

He dropped the rest of that story and went on with his sermon. I guarantee you that’s one message he will never forget. I remember laughing, “Good! He got caught doing something he should not have been doing in the first place.”

The underlying problem, I assume, is that we preachers get so comfortable in the pulpit that we begin to think “this is my place” and “they’ve come to hear me.”  Both are major fallacies.  The pulpit is the Lord’s and the people are there to worship Him and hear from His word.

We should exercise the greatest of care to see that we honor the Lord with all we say, and that our stories enhance the message rather than detract from it in any way.

As one prone to mispeaking, I find myself praying Psalm 141:3 almost every day of my life: “Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; Keep watch over the door of my lips.”


8 thoughts on “Dumb stories we preachers tell

  1. Great info contained in this blog. On your first illustration, I thought you were going to cite the one about the draw bridge operator whose son was playing on the gears of the bridge when he noticed a train quickly approaching the crossing and he had to make a decision whether to close the bridge and kill his son or leave it open causing the passenger train to de-rail and potentially kill all riding the train. And of course he chooses to close the bridge causing the demise of the young man. Same type that sabotages the remainder of the message.
    Brings up an interesting question. Have you written anything on the use of humor in preaching? Humor well placed adds to but too much destroys a message. Worked under a pastor once that would deliver a serious, commitment-oriented message and just before the hymn of commitment he would invariably tell a joke thereby letting folk “off the hook” of making a commitment. He never understood he shot his on sermons in the foot. Sad to say the last 5 minutes destroyed all he had worked for in the previous 20 to 25 minutes. Interesting to hear your thoughts on humor in preaching. I’m not against it just against placement in a message.

    • Thanks, Gordon. I honestly thought I had written stuff on the use of humor in sermons, but when I googled “humor + McKeever,” the usual way I find anything on this website, it came up with a lot of stuff but nothing like that. So, maybe I can do that. Thanks for the suggestion.

  2. Good info. I would add check the facts when you are telling a story or sharing information. Many times I have found that facts and figures are way off or totally wrong or a story was totally fabricated. All of this advice is very good to those who flood facebook and other media with such stories.

  3. I always find the oft-used illustration comparing the (Jonathan) Edwards family legacy to that of some other family of n’er do wells quite distracting. It’s supposed to prove that if we teach our children well and in the care and admonition of the Lord, we will leave generations of godly children, grandchildren and so on. However, I know that at least one of Jonathan Edwards’ seemingly fine and upstanding descendants, a vice-president of the United States no less, was actually Aaron Burr, who was a man of dubious character, accused of womanizing, adultery, and treason and definitely guilty of murdering Alexander Hamilton in a duel. It sort of destroys the point of these tory for me ands leads me to think about how disappointed poor Jonathan Edwards would have been to see his grandson’s legacy.

    • Good point. And along the same lines, you have to wonder if anyone has ever checked out that story. I’m sure I’ve recited it somewhere along the way in years past, and some preacher surely mentioned it today. But while we love the point it makes, there is no way to know whether it’s true or not.

  4. I don’t see it that way at all! Excellent story and analogy of God the Father, and His sacrificing His only Son for us!
    I would love to have been the one to come up with such a clever story!

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