Christmas Quotes
A little boy and girl were singing their favorite Christmas carol in church the Sunday before Christmas. The boy concluded “Silent Night” with the words, “Sleep in heavenly beans.”
“No,” his sister corrected, “not beans, peas.”
[1]
The people of that time were being heavily taxed, and faced every prospect of a sharp increase to cover expanding military expenses. The threat of world domination by a cruel, ungodly, power-intoxicated band of men was ever just below the threshold of consciousness. Moral deterioration had corrupted the upper levels of society and was moving rapidly into the broad base of the populace. Intense nationalistic feeling was clashing openly with new and sinister forms of imperialism. Conformity was the spirit of the age. Government handouts were being used with increasing lavishness to keep the population from rising up and throwing out the leaders. Interest rates were spiraling upward in the midst of an inflated economy. External religious observances were considered a political asset, and abnormal emphasis was being placed upon sports and athletic competition. Racial tensions were at the breaking point. In such a time, and amid such a people, a child was born to a migrant couple who had just signed up for a fresh round of taxation, and who were soon to become political exiles. And the child who was born was called, among other things, Immanuel, God with us.[2]
“And there were in the same country children keeping watch over their stockings by the fireplace. And, Lo! Santa Claus came upon them; and they were sore afraid. And Santa said unto them: “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which be to all people who can afford them. For unto you will be given great feasts of turkey, dressing and cake; and many presents; and this shall be a sign unto you, ye shall find the presents, wrapped in bright paper, lying beneath a tree adorned with tinsel, colored balls and lights. And suddenly, there will be with you a multitude of relatives and friends, praising you and saying, ‘Thank you so much, it was just what I wanted.’ And it shall come to pass as the friends and relatives have gone away into their own homes, the parents shall say to one another, ‘Darn it! What a mess to clean up! I’m tired, let’s go to bed and pick it up tomorrow. Thank goodness, Christmas only comes once a year!’ And they go with haste to their cold bed and find their desired rest.”[3]
The Lord Jesus Christ whom we exalt at Christmas is not just a baby in a manger. He is not a character in a children’s story. He is far more.
The first time he came, he came veiled in the form of a child. The next time he comes, and we believe it will be soon, he will come unveiled, and it will be abundantly and immediately clear to all the world just who he really is.
The first time he came, a star marked his arrival. The next time he comes, the whole heavens will roll up like a scroll, and all the stars will fall out of the sky, and he himself will light it.
The first time he came, wise men and shepherds brought him gifts. The next time he comes, he will bring gifts, rewards for his own.
The first time he came, there was no room for him. The next time he comes, the whole world will not be able to contain His glory.
The first time he came, only a few attended his arrival—some shepherds and some wise men. The next time he comes, every eye shall see him.
The first time he came as a baby. Soon he will come as Sovereign King and Lord.
[4]
Imagine how a parent would feel if on Christmas Day when the gifts for their children were handed out, the children just took them, said “Thank you,” and laid them aside with no attempt to open the gifts, not even to find out what they were!
Imagine how the Lord must feel when he has given gifts to us that he intends for us to use, and yet we never take the trouble to find out what they are, never put them to work, and then excuse ourselves from serving the church by saying that we can’t do anything!
[5]
Orville and Wilbur Wright had tried repeatedly to fly a heavier-than-air craft. Finally one December day, off the sand dunes of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, they did what man had never done before. They actually flew! Elated, they wired their sister Katherine, “We have actually flown 120 feet. Will be home for Christmas.”
Hastily she ran down the street, shoved the telegram—the news scoop of the century—at the city editor of the local paper. He read it carefully and smiled, “Well, well! How nice the boys will be home for Christmas!”
[6]
One of my favorite stories is about a missionary teaching in Africa. Before Christmas, he had been telling his native students how Christians, as an expression of their joy, gave each other presents on Christ’s birthday.
On Christmas morning, one of the natives brought the missionary a seashell of lustrous beauty. When asked where he had discovered such an extraordinary shell, the native said he had walked many miles to a certain bay, the only spot where such shells could be found.
“I think it was wonderful of you to travel so far to get this lovely gift for me,” the teacher exclaimed.
His eyes brightening, the native replied, “Long walk, part of gift.”
—Gerald H. Bath
[7]
One Christmas we had a tree which we trimmed on Christmas eve. The whole lighting effect was to be accomplished with red bulbs, and, when our work was finally done, we turned out all the other lights in the room so that the bulbs on the tree should give out the only illumination.
We saw a startling thing! Near the base of the tree was a poinsettia plant, having some red flowers and some white ones. When the other lights were turned out and the red lights turned on, it was absolutely impossible to determine which of the poinsettia flowers had red petals and which had white—they were all white in the red light.
What a perfect illustration that was of what happens to our sins when they are washed in the blood of Christ! They may be as scarlet, but when the red of Christ’s shed blood is applied they become as white as snow.
—E. Schuyler English
[8]
Old Mr. and Mrs. Cooper invited the writer to their home for Christmas dinner at Winona Lake, Indiana. Underneath their Christmas tree—and prominently displayed—was a red cardboard with some clippings of the three wise men and “Merry Christmas” pasted on it. I was told that the worn cardboard was 45 years old and had been placed under the tree every CHRISTMAS. The story:
The Cooper’s only son had made that Christmas card in school for his Daddy. And on his way home, some bad boys were going to tear it up. Although not used to fighting, he took off his coat and fought them off for this gift to his Dad. The Coopers never knew until a neighbor who saw it told them.
And so, in deep appreciation as only parents can know, that worn-out card (with scotch tapes on various places) had been set in front of all other presents for nearly half-a-century underneath their Christmas tree.
[9]
It Cost …
• It cost Mary and Joseph the comforts of home during a long period of exile in Egypt to protect the little babe.
• It cost mothers, in and around Bethlehem, the massacre of their babies by the cruel order of Herod.
• It cost the shepherds the complacency of their shepherd’s life, with the call to the manger and to tell the good news.
• It cost the wise men a long journey and expensive gifts and changed lives.
• It cost the early Apostles and the early church persecution and sometimes death.
• It cost missionaries of Christ untold suffering and privation to spread the Good News.
• It cost Christian martyrs in all ages their lives for Christ’s sake.
• More than all this, it cost God the Father His own Son—He sent Him to the earth to save men.
• It cost Jesus a life of sacrifice and service, a death cruel and unmatched in history.
[10]
Mystery of Christ’s Humanity
The mystery of the humanity of Christ, that He sunk Himself into our flesh, is beyond all human understanding. - Martin Luther,
[11]
Long ago, there ruled in Persia a wise and good king. He loved his people. He wanted to know how they lived. He wanted to know about their hardships. Often he dressed in the clothes of a working man or a beggar, and went to the homes of the poor. No one whom he visited thought that he was their ruler. One time he visited a very poor man who lived in a cellar. He ate the coarse food the poor man ate. He spoke cheerful, kind words to him. Then he left. Later he visited the poor man again and disclosed his identity by saying, “I am your king!” The king thought the man would surely ask for some gift or favor, but he didn’t. Instead he said, “You left your palace and your glory to visit me in this dark, dreary place. You ate the course food I ate. You brought gladness to my heart! To others you have given your rich gifts. To me you have given yourself!”
The King of glory, the Lord Jesus Christ, gave himself to you and me. The Bible calls Him, “the unspeakable gift!”
[12]
Fear Not
In the Christmas narratives, there are several “fear not’s.”
1. The “fear not” of salvation: “And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings...which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10, 11).
2. The “fear not” of the humanly impossible: “Fear not, Mary, … the Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: …For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:30, 35, 37).
3. The “fear not” of unanswered prayer: “Fear not, Zacharias: for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John” (Luke 1:13).
4. The “fear not” of immediate obedience: “Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife. … Then Joseph … did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him” (Matthew 1:20, 24 NPS)
Source unknown
[13]
Celebrating the Birth
Two women who were having lunch in an elegant hotel were approached by a mutual friend who asked the occasion for the meal.
One lady replied, “We are celebrating the birth of my baby boy.”
“But where is he?” inquired the friend.
“Oh,” said the mother, “you didn’t think I’d bring him, did you?”
What a picture of the way the world treats Jesus at Christmas.
Source unknown
[14]
Praise God
Praise God for Christmas.
Praise Him for the incarnation, for the word made flesh.
I will not sing of shepherds watching flocks on frosty nights,
or angel choristers.
I will not sing of a stable bare in Bethlehem,
or lowing oxen,
wise men trailing star with gold,
frankincense, and myrrh.
Tonight I will sing praise to the Father
who stood on heaven’s threshold
and said farewell to his Son
as he stepped across the stars
to Bethlehem and Jerusalem.
And I will sing praise to the infinite, eternal Son,
who became most finite, a baby
who would one day be executed for my crime.
Praise him in the heavens,
Praise him in the stable,
Praise him in my heart.
Joseph Bayly
[15]
Content with Stable
Christ was content with a stable when he was born so that we could have a mansion when we die.
Source unknown
[16]
Pastor Clifford S. Stewart of Louisville, Kentucky, sent his parents a microwave oven one Christmas. Here’s how he recalls the experience:
“They were excited that now they, too, could be a part of the instant generation. When Dad unpacked the microwave and plugged it in, literally within seconds, the microwave transformed two smiles into frown! Even after reading the directions, they couldn’t make it work. Two days later, my mother was playing bridge with a friend and confessed her inability to get that microwave oven even to boil water. ‘To get this darn thing to work,’ she exclaimed, ‘I really don’t need better directions; I just needed my son to come along with the gift!’”
When God gave the gift of salvation, he didn’t send a booklet of complicated instructions for us to figure out; he sent his Son.
Source unknown
[17]
Gifts Without Cost
Some gifts you can give this Christmas are beyond monetary value:
• Mend a quarrel, dismiss suspicion, tell someone, “I love you.”
• Give something away—anonymously.
• Forgive someone who has treated you wrong.
• Turn away wrath with a soft answer.
• Visit someone in a nursing home.
• Apologize if you were wrong.
• Be especially kind to someone with whom you work.
• Give as God gave to you in Christ, without obligation, or announcement, or reservation, or hypocrisy.
C. Swindoll, Growing Strong, pp. 400-1
[18]
Theodosius Harnack, Luther scholar of note, said that for Luther the imperative was to have "God deep in the flesh." Christmas celebrates just that: God deep in the flesh. So great was God's longing for his creatures' redemption, says Luther, that God's preference for human nature over angelic nature might even have provoked the angels to jealousy!
But Psalm 8 nudges that issue: what are human beings that you are mindful of them? They have been made a bit lower than angels but crowned with glory and honor. A preference for humans: in that lies the Christmas gospel. ...
There is God in the flesh, thriving in a placenta, protected by a water bag, bouncing on a donkey ride to Bethlehem where his folks had to meet the local IRS. No different than any other baby at the time. While God preferred human nature to the angelic, God asked no human favors and got none. When inns are full they are full. Sleep where one can. God deep in the flesh became God deep in the straw. Mary, the mother of the Creator, sustained the one who sustained all the living.
-- C. John Weborg in The Covenant Companion (Dec. 1994). Christianity Today, Vol. 39, no. 14.
See: Jn 1:14; 3:16; 13:1; Gal 4:4; Php 2:7.
"Behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, 'Arise and take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt' "(Matt. 2:13a, KJV).
Jesus was a Palestinian refugee. As a matter of fact, Jesus was an Asian-born baby who became an African refugee. The Christmas story is about an Asian-born baby who becomes an international migrant.
Half of the babies born in the world are born in Asia, and Jesus was one of them. Half of the 18 million migrants in the world are Africans, and Jesus touched the African migrant experience. Twenty percent of the babies in developing nations died the first year from water-borne diseases; whole villages of babies died before Jesus had an opportunity to die for them on the cross.
Jesus was born in a borrowed barn and buried in a borrowed grave and was homeless most of his life. The authentic Gospel has enormous power for the whole world when we tell it the way it really is.
-- Raymond Bakke, Christian Reader, Vol. 32, no. 6.
See: Mt 2:14; 8:20; Lk 2:7.
One Sunday evening, I overheard my five-year-old daughter, Julie, practicing "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," a song she'd been rehearsing that morning in church for next week's Christmas program. It was all I could do to suppress my laughter when, in place of "with angelic host proclaim," Julie sang, "with the jelly toast proclaim."
n Marilyn Clark
W. H. Auden has written a beautiful poem in which he speaks about the tension of the time being, which, he says, is the most trying time of all: Now we must dismantle the tree, putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes and carrying them up into the attic. The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burned. The children must return to school. There are enough leftovers to be warmed up for the rest of the week, not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot and stayed up so late. We attempted again this year to love all our relatives, and in general grossly overestimated our powers.
But for the time being, here we are back in the moderate Aristotelian City, where Euclid's geometry and Newton's mechanics could account for our experience, and the kitchen table exists because I scrub it. It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets are much narrower than we remembered. We had forgotten that the office was as depressing as this.
n Vic Pentz, "A Twinge of Nostalgia," Preaching Today, Tape No. 88.
I had an Uncle Van who was given to many rash statements, and one of the little things he said was, "There ain't nothing as over as Christmas." What he meant was that when all the poinsettias are removed and all the candles are put up and the tree is taken down, there is a kind of emptiness, because our feelings are accentuated. But Christmas should never be over. Things long forgotten, stirred in us once more, out to be kindled and kept.
n W. Frank Harrington,
At the 7:00 service, a little girl came out an pulled on my robe, and I said, "What can I do?" She said, "It's for you, Dr. Harrington." I said, "What?" and she had a little note. I opened it up, and it said, "I love you." Well, it made my Christmas Eve. "It's for you"--very personal. While the love of Christ is for the world, it's also for you and for me.
n W. Frank Harrington
In 1994, Alex Dovales was drifting toward Miami on a rickety boat with twenty-seven other Cubans. Two years later, Dovales saw fourteen exhausted, penniless Cuban rafters wash ashore on Key Largo and "felt like I had just arrived here myself."
The 25-year-old dishwasher, who clears $197 per week, walked home and gathered all the presents from under his Christmas tree. He gave the shirts and other clothing to the new arrivals.
"They were wet and cold," explained Henry Paez, Dovales's roommate. "Alex took off his shirt and gave it to them."
n Dubuque Telegraph/Herald
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd,
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a Wise Man,
I would do my part,--
Yet what can I give Him?
Give my heart.
n Christina Rosetti
One may think of a diver first reducing himself to nakedness, then glancing in mid-air, then gone with a splash, vanished, rushing down through green and warm water into black and cold water, down through the increasing pressure into the deathlike region of ooze and slime and old decay, and then back up again, back to color and light, his lungs almost bursting until suddenly he breaks the surface again, holding in his hand the dripping, precious thing he went down to recover. That dripping, precious thing is you and I, and Advent is when we celebrate his coming down to us.
n C. S. Lewis
Joseph, have you heard what Mary said occurred?
Yes, it may be so. Is it likely? No.
Mary may be pure, but Joseph, are you sure?
How is one to tell? Suppose, for instance, well,
Maybe, maybe not. But Joseph, you know what
Your world will say about you anyway.
n W. H. Auden
Did you ever read Bret Harte's story The Luck of Roaring Camp? Roaring Camp was supposed to be, according tot he story, the meanest, toughest mining town in all of the West. More murders, more thefts--it was a terrible place inhabited entirely by men, and one woman who tried to serve them all. Her name was Cherokee Sal. She died while giving birth to a baby.
Well, the men took the baby, and they put her in a box with some old rags under her. When they looked at her, they decided that didn't look right, so they sent one of the men eighty miles to buy a rosewood cradle. He brought it back, and they put the rags and the baby in the rosewood cradle. And the rags didn't look right there. So they sent another of their number to Sacramento, and he came back with some beautiful silk and lace blankets. And they put the baby, wrapped around with those blankets, in the rosewood cradle.
It looked fine until someone happened to notice that the floor was so filthy. So these hardened, tough men got down on their hands and knees, and with their hardened and horny hands they scrubbed that floor until it was very clean. Of course, what that did was to make the walls and the ceiling and the dirty windows without curtains look absolutely terrible. So they washed down the walls and the ceiling, and they put curtains at the windows. And now things were beginning to look as they thought they should look. But of course, they had to give up a lot of their fighting, because the baby slept a lot, and babies can't sleep during a brawl.
So the whole temperature of Roaring Camp seemed to go down. They used to take her out and set her by the entrance to the mine in her rosewood cradle so they could see her when they came up. Then somebody noticed what a dirty place that was, so they planted flowers, and they made a very nice garden there. It looked quite beautiful. And they would bring her, oh, shiny little stones and things that they would find in the mine. But when they would put their hands down next to hers, their hands looked so dirty. Pretty soon the general store was all sold out of soap and shaving gear and perfume and those kinds ... the baby changed everything.
That's the way it is for those of good will. That's the way it is for those who please God. The baby enters into their lives, and he slips into every crevice of their experience, until they say "Hark! Listen, the herald angels sing! God is for us. And Christmas is forever."
n Bruce W. Thielemann
The Christmas scene that Anthony arranged under the altar [was] probably the most meaningful "crib" I have ever seen. Three small wood-carved figures made in India: a poor woman, a poor man, and a small child between them. The carving is simple, nearly primitive. No eyes, no ears, no mouths, just the contours of the faces. The figures are smaller than a human hand--nearly too small to attract attention at all.
But then--a beam of light shines on the three figures and projects large shadows on the wall of the sanctuary. That says it all. The light thrown on the smallness of Mary, Joseph, and the Child projects them as large, hopeful shadows against the walls of our life and our world. While looking at the intimate scene we already see the first outlines of the majesty and glory they represent. ... Without the radiant beam of light shining into the darkness there is little to be seen. ... But everything changes with the light.
n Henri J. M. Nouwen
The spirit of Christmas needs to be superseded by the Spirit of Christ. The spirit of Christmas is annual; the Spirit of Christ is eternal. The spirit of Christmas is sentimental; the Spirit of Christ is supernatural. The spirit of Christmas is a human product; the Spirit of Christ is a divine person. That makes all the difference in the world.
n Stuart Briscoe
The mystery of the humanity of Christ, that He sunk Himself into our flesh, is beyond all human understanding.
n Martin Luther
"It seems, then," said Tirian, ... "that the Stable seen from within and the Stable seen from without are two different places." "Yes," said Lord Digory. "Its inside is bigger than its outside." 'Yes," said Queen Lucy. "In our world too, a Stable once had something inside it that was bigger than our whole world."
n C.S. Lewis
An ordinary night with ordinary sheep and ordinary shepherds. And were it not for a God who loves to hook an "extra" on the front of the ordinary, the night would have gone unnoticed. The sheep would have been forgotten, and the shepherds would have slept the night away.
But God dances amidst the common. And that night he did a waltz.
The black sky exploded with brightness. ... Sheep that had been silent became a chorus of curiosity. One minute the shepherd was dead asleep, the next he was rubbing his eyes and staring into the face of an alien.
The night was ordinary no more.
The angel came in the night because that is when lights are best seen and that is when they are most needed. God comes into the common for the same reason.
n Max Lucad
In this poem written some 15 centuries ago, Augustine tried to capture the mystery of the Incarnation:
Maker of the sun,
He is made under the sun.
In the Father he remains,
From his mother he goes forth.
Creator of heaven and earth,
He was born on earth under heaven.
Unspeakably wise,
He is wisely speechless.
Filling the world,
He lies in a manger.
Ruler of the stars,
He nurses at his mother's bosom.
He is both great in the nature of God,
and small in the form of a servant.
n Leadership
I read about a little boy who was in his first Christmas pageant. He was 5. He was one of the shepherds--you know, they wear their bathrobes and their sandals and carry cardboard crooks--not a lead shepherd, just a common shepherd standing in the back. But when it came time for the Nativity, he crowded around to the front so that he could see. Then, having seen, he stepped to the footlights and, looking out, cried out to his parents, "Mommy! Daddy! Mary had her baby, and it's a boy!" It was a boy.
n Bruce Thielemann
I came across a collection of letters that children wrote to Santa Claus. Some of them were pretty good. One said, "Dear Santa, you did not bring me anything good last year. You did not bring me anything good the year before that. This is your last chance. Signed, Alfred."
My favorite went like this: "Dear Santa, there are three little boys who live at our house. There is Jeffrey; he is 2. There is David; he is 4. And there is Norman; he is 7. Jeffrey is good some of the time. David is good some of the time. But Norman is good all of the time. I am Norman." But we aren't Normans. We're shepherds.
n Bruce Thielemann
My 5-year-old daughter was helping set the table one Sunday near Christmas. She stopped for a moment and announced, "Jesus was a Swede."
More than a little surprised, I corrected her, "Oh, no, dear, Jesus was Jewish. I'll read it to you from the Bible after lunch.
Pensively, she laid out the silverware. Then her face brightened. "Mommy, I can prove it to you! We sang about it in Sunday school this morning." Triumphantly she sang, "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus lay down his Swede head."
n Ethelyn Pearson
I did not realize just how closely my 18-month-old toddler had been listening to Christmas carols until she picked the peas off her plate, threw then on the floor, and said with an excited smile, "Peas on Earth."
n Margaret Nix Windley
Easter suffers from acute holiday envy. Its egg hunts and rabbit have never had the commercial appeal of Santa's bounty and eight tiny reindeer. Let's face it, cattle lowing and a baby who doesn't cry is money in the bank compared to a homeless thirty-year-old dangling from a cross. Even labor pains are more attractive than an empty tomb.
n Joey Earl Horstmann
It would be easy ... to criticize ... the waste, the trash, the sad attempt to buy affection in a splash of wild extravagance. Yet, for all of that, this is a genuine time of family fun; a day when games are played together, books are read and puzzles puzzled, a meal is eaten family-style, smiles and kisses are in plentiful supply; a day when memories are brought forth, dusted off, and handed round. ...
May I find in moments such as these an echo of those "tidings of great joy"? I wonder, would the Christ-child, if he sat beneath our sparkling tree, condemn as crass and empty all he saw? Or might he laugh and cheer and clap his sticky hands with glee to see his miracle take place again and life become abundant shared in love?
n J. Barrie Shepherd
We have an observatory in California called Mount Palomar, where there's a great telescope that can look out into space and pick out light so far away that it takes one hour of focusing upon that light for it to make even the faintest impression upon a photographic plate--tremendous capacities for focus in that telescope. But that is nothing compared to the way in which God focused himself in that baby.
n Bruce Thielemann
Adam, a bright-eyed 3-year-old, had been told of his German heritage. After church in early December, I asked him if he had a part in the Sunday school Christmas pageant.
"Yes," he replied, his eyes filling with joy. "I am going to be a German shepherd!"
n Eileen R. Halstead
----
[1]Green, M. P. (1989). Illustrations for Bilical Preaching : Over 1500 sermon illustrations arranged by topic and indexed exhaustively (Revised edition of: The expositor's illustration file.). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House.
[2]Green, M. P. (1989). Illustrations for Bilical Preaching : Over 1500 sermon illustrations arranged by topic and indexed exhaustively (Revised edition of: The expositor's illustration file.). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House.
[3]Green, M. P. (1989). Illustrations for Bilical Preaching : Over 1500 sermon illustrations arranged by topic and indexed exhaustively (Revised edition of: The expositor's illustration file.). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House.
[4]Green, M. P. (1989). Illustrations for Bilical Preaching : Over 1500 sermon illustrations arranged by topic and indexed exhaustively (Revised edition of: The expositor's illustration file.). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House.
[5]Green, M. P. (1989). Illustrations for Bilical Preaching : Over 1500 sermon illustrations arranged by topic and indexed exhaustively (Revised edition of: The expositor's illustration file.). Grand Rapids: Baker Book House.
[6]Tan, P. L. (1996, c1979). Encyclopedia of 7700 illustrations : [a treasury of illustrations, anecdotes, facts and quotations for pastors, teachers and Christian workers]. Garland TX: Bible Communications.
[7]Tan, P. L. (1996, c1979). Encyclopedia of 7700 illustrations : [a treasury of illustrations, anecdotes, facts and quotations for pastors, teachers and Christian workers]. Garland TX: Bible Communications.
[8]Tan, P. L. (1996, c1979). Encyclopedia of 7700 illustrations : [a treasury of illustrations, anecdotes, facts and quotations for pastors, teachers and Christian workers]. Garland TX: Bible Communications.
[9]Tan, P. L. (1996, c1979). Encyclopedia of 7700 illustrations : [a treasury of illustrations, anecdotes, facts and quotations for pastors, teachers and Christian workers]. Garland TX: Bible Communications.
[10]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[11]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[12]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[13]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[14]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[15]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[16]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[17]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.
[18]10,000 sermon illustrations. 2000 (electronic ed.). Dallas: Biblical Studies Press.