Golden Moments Report: Famous Failures

Sermon by John Maxwell

Golden Moment #1: The Bible's Hall of Failures

"If you want to look at a list of the longest mess ups, you don't need to look in a mirror. Look in the Bible. Because when you look in the Bible, you're going to see that there's a woman from Samaria who has tried five husbands. And you're going to see that Gideon who literally put an idol on the very place that God called him to do a great work. And Sarah who has had a lifetime with God doing miracles in her life. And yet when he tells her about another miracle, she just laughs at him. And oh, we got David the adulterer and Eve the apple picker. And Zacchaeus the crooked tax man. You see, before you tally up all your failures, losses, misses, and sins, count theirs. And before you throw the towel in on yourself, look at the list of the people in the Bible who failed."

Why this moment works: Maxwell deploys a rapid-fire biblical catalog that accomplishes something rhetorically brilliant — he makes failure feel like the most normal thing in scripture. The nicknames ("Eve the apple picker," "David the adulterer") are playful without being disrespectful, landing with warmth rather than irreverence. The pivot line — "before you tally up all your failures, count theirs" — reframes the entire biblical narrative in one sentence.

Rhetorically effective: This is a masterclass in reframing. Most people approach the Bible as a book of heroes. Maxwell flips that frame entirely, positioning scripture as the world's most honest failure memoir. This isn't theological recklessness — it's pastoral genius. By naming real people with real failures, he removes the shame that keeps people from honest self-examination.

Why congregants will share it: "Eve the apple picker" and "David the adulterer" are the kind of shorthand phrases people repeat at lunch after church. But more importantly, the core idea — look at their list before you condemn yours — is a thought that will resurface every time someone picks up their Bible this week.

Golden Moment #2: Twelve Words That Change Everything

"If Jonah could come in today and just share with us what he learned about failure and what God taught him about failure, he would say to us, 'God will give you a second chance. He'll give you a second chance.' And I know that because there are 12 amazing words in the Bible that says, 'Then the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time.' A second time. He blew the first time. God said, 'Jonah, I'm going to come back and give you another chance.' You see, Jonah just made a bunch of bad decisions. God said go to Nineveh, and Jonah headed 2,000 miles the other way. I would call that disobedience. God said go by land. Jonah decided to go by sea. God said go east. Jonah sailed west."

Why this moment works: Counting the words — "12 amazing words" — is a simple but powerful technique that forces the congregation to slow down and feel the weight of a single phrase. By naming the exact word count, Maxwell signals that every syllable of that verse matters. The rapid-fire list of Jonah's reversals that follows has a comedic rhythm that lands the point without belaboring it.

Theologically sound: The exegetical instinct here is excellent. Maxwell doesn't just tell people God gives second chances — he shows it from the text, anchoring a pastoral truth in a specific, locatable verse. This is the difference between a motivational speech and a sermon. The grace of God isn't asserted; it's demonstrated from scripture.

Why congregants will share it: "The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time" — once Maxwell frames it this way, people will never read that verse the same way again. The phrase "12 amazing words" gives listeners a handle to carry the insight with them and pass it along.

Golden Moment #3: The Grace Points Story

"It's going to take a thousand points for you to get in. So he said, 'What have you done?' And the guy said, 'Well, I went to church every Sunday.' 'That's 25 points.' 'I tithe. I gave 10% of my income.' 'That's 25 points.' 'I taught a Bible study.' 'That's 25 points.' Now the guy's starting to get desperate. He's got 900 points. He's a long way from a thousand points. He said, 'Oh my gosh, what else can I say? The only way I'm ever going to get into heaven is by the grace of God.' And Peter says, 'That's 900 points. Come on in.'"

Why this moment works: This is a well-worn illustration, but Maxwell's delivery gives it fresh energy through pacing and comedic timing. The escalating desperation of the man at the gate mirrors the real anxiety people feel about their spiritual standing. The punchline lands because it doesn't just make you laugh — it makes you feel the actual relief of grace.

Theologically sound: The illustration does serious theological work. It dismantles works-righteousness not through argument but through story, and the math makes the point viscerally: no accumulation of good deeds closes the gap. Grace isn't a supplement to human effort — it's the entire answer. This is Reformation theology delivered through comedy.

Why congregants will share it: This story is immediately repeatable. People will tell it at dinner tables, in small groups, and to skeptical friends. More importantly, it makes the doctrine of grace feel like relief rather than a theological position — and that emotional landing is what makes illustrations travel.

Golden Moment #4: Peter's Three Failures Before the Failure

"I think he failed because he placed himself spiritually above the other disciples. 'Even if everyone else deserts you, I will never desert you.' May I just say that's a dangerous place for any of us to be. I think the second reason he failed is I think he thought he knew himself better than Jesus did. And I think the third reason he failed was he felt that he was stronger than he really was. There have been so many times when I just thought I had it and I didn't. It's a very humbling thing to just kind of feel like you can pull it off and you don't pull it off. That you'll say yes and instead you say no. Jesus said in the garden to Peter, 'Your spirit is willing, but your body is weak.'"

Why this moment works: Maxwell moves from narrative to diagnosis here with real pastoral precision. Rather than simply retelling Peter's denial, he excavates the interior conditions that made it possible — spiritual superiority, self-knowledge overconfidence, and overestimated strength. These three aren't just Peter's problems; they're a diagnostic for any leader's blind spots.

Pastorally wise: The self-implication — "there have been so many times when I just thought I had it and I didn't" — is what separates this from mere biblical commentary. Maxwell isn't lecturing about Peter's failure; he's confessing his own. That vulnerability gives the congregation permission to do the same internal work without shame.

Why congregants will share it: Leaders especially will carry these three categories out of the room. "Spiritual superiority," "knowing yourself better than Jesus does," and "overestimating your strength" are the kind of diagnostic categories that show up in journaling, in mentoring conversations, and in moments of personal reckoning.

Golden Moment #5: Jesus Came Down to Fileo

"The third time Jesus looks at him. He says, 'Okay, Pete, let me ask you one more time. Do you, Fileo, love me?' Jesus came down to where Peter was. He looked at Peter with his incredible unconditional divine love and said, 'Okay, I got it right now. It's a standard too high for you. It's okay. It's okay. It's just like he comes to our house, our door of our house to knock and ask if he can come in. He says, I'll come to where you are. I'll find you. I'll go down to Fileo.' And as soon as he said that, Peter hugged him. And all of a sudden Peter — he's connected back with him. And by the way, if Peter can come back from failure and Jesus asked him to come back, I just want you to know that we can come back too."

Why this moment works: This is the theological and emotional apex of the sermon. The Greek word study on agape versus fileo could easily become dry academic content, but Maxwell uses it to reveal something stunning about the character of Jesus — that he condescends not with disappointment but with love. "I'll go down to Fileo" is one of the most tender portraits of divine grace in the entire message.

Theologically sound: The insight that Jesus meets Peter at Peter's actual capacity rather than demanding Peter rise to a standard he's just proven he can't meet is profound. This is incarnational theology applied pastorally — the God who took on flesh also takes on the emotional vocabulary of a broken disciple. Maxwell doesn't just teach this; he makes you feel it.

Why congregants will share it: "He came down to Fileo" will become a phrase people carry. For anyone who feels their faith isn't strong enough, their love not pure enough, their devotion not consistent enough — the idea that Jesus meets you at your actual level rather than your aspirational level is genuinely life-changing. This is the moment people will quote when describing this sermon.

Golden Moment #6: The Billionaire's Answer

"I looked at him and I said, 'Let me ask you a question. As you look at your failures, which one of them would you like to go back and do over?' And his answer was the catalyst for the book. His answer surprised me. He said, 'None of them.' I said, 'You're kidding me. If you could go back and erase some of those failures, you're not going back?' He said, 'No. Because if I erase my failures, I erase the lessons I learned. And trust me, John, the lessons I learned have so much more value than the failures I had.' And secondly, 'I erase the failures, I would lose my character because I developed my character in the valley, climbing out of the ditch. I learned resiliency and adversity.' So he said, 'I'm not erasing any of those failures. I'll live with the lessons. I'll live with the character.'"

Why this moment works: Maxwell saves his most surprising insight for the close, and it lands with real force. The billionaire's answer — "none of them" — is counterintuitive enough to create genuine cognitive disruption. The two reasons he gives (lessons and character) are memorable, distinct, and mutually reinforcing. This is a closing illustration that earns its place at the end.

Rhetorically effective: The structure here is elegant: a question, an unexpected answer, a pause of disbelief, and then two clean reasons. Maxwell resists the urge to over-explain. He lets the billionaire's words carry the weight. And the final line — "I'll live with the lessons. I'll live with the character." — has the rhythm and economy of a phrase that gets written down.

Why congregants will share it: This story reframes the entire relationship between failure and identity. People who have been ashamed of their failures will leave asking whether those failures might actually be assets they've been trying to erase. The question "which failure would you want to go back and undo?" is one people will ask themselves — and others — long after the service ends.

A Final Word to the Pastor

The greatest overall strength of this sermon is Maxwell's ability to make biblical characters feel like contemporaries — people whose failures are not ancient cautionary tales but mirrors held up to the present moment. Jonah and Peter don't feel like figures from another era; they feel like people in the room. That capacity to collapse the distance between scripture and lived experience is a rare and powerful preaching gift.

The thread that ties all six golden moments together is permission — permission to fail, permission to be honest about failure, permission to receive grace without earning it, and permission to believe that failure isn't the final word. Every moment in this sermon, from the biblical catalog to the billionaire's answer, is ultimately giving the congregation the same gift: the freedom to stop performing and start receiving.

The instinct to lean into personal vulnerability — "there have been so many times when I just thought I had it and I didn't" — is the thing that keeps this sermon from feeling like a lecture and makes it feel like a conversation. That willingness to self-implicate, to be a fellow failure rather than a failure expert, is what gives the teaching its authority. Lean into that instinct. It's not a weakness in the pulpit; it's what makes people trust the message.

This is preaching that does what the best sermons always do: it leaves people feeling more human and more hopeful at the same time. That is no small thing.