I’ve been taught by a lot of people over the years. In school and university, in trainings, Bible studies, and more sermons than I can count. I know it all shaped me, slowly, bit by bit, and I do remember a few things, here and there—the real stand-out, mic-drop moments—but most of the specifics of what they said are gone now. What I remember most is not the teaching itself, but the people who taught me. I remember their faces, their lives, and the way they interacted with me and others. I remember if they cared about what they said, and if they cared about me. I remember their sincerity—or hypocrisy.
I was reading a book on using illustrations in preaching recently and I had to put it down and just sit and think for a while when the author pointed out that the most powerful illustration you’ll ever have is your own life. Your life has the power to undermine your message entirely, or back it up and drive it home—as when Paul and his companions shared “not only the gospel of God but our lives as well” (1 Thess. 2:8). Even God himself didn’t just stand back and tell us the truth from a distance—“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14). The most powerful way to teach the truth is to live it out. That will give your words a force that nothing else can provide. That’s what this poem is about:
The Illustration
You can choose a thousand words
and plug your mic to megaphones
and speak until your voice is gone—
your words won’t be remembered long
Perhaps a phrase or two will stick—
a story makes a concept click,
a passionate delivery,
a clever way to make them see
But if you want to drive it home
then start your message there—at home
and live the things you say are true
and drive the point down deep in you
Your words will fade like morning stars
but they’ll remember who you are
far longer than the things you say
so use your footsteps—show the way
and don’t just tell them information
be the illustration
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