It took but three minutes to deliver the sermon I want to tell you about. It was preached in no church or chapel, and it had "first, second, third," in it.
"Had it a text?" do you say.
Yes, it had. It was a three-minute sermon on a three-worded text, and it was given to a congregation numbering only ten. But the vast result of that one little sermon will be known only in eternity.
A small group of miners were standing near the entrance to a large coal pit. It was "pay day", and they were waiting to receive their wages. A well-built man, about six feet two inches tall, joined them. His pick was on his shoulder and his lamp in his hand. "Why, Fred," exclaimed one of the group, "we were just talking about you. They say you turned saint last week."
"Or is it angel?" said another; "if it is, you will soon have white wings, Fred, and must never again go down to blacken them in a coal mine."
"No, no, don't chaff him," said a third collier. "I tell you it's parson he'll be turning, and he'll be after preaching to us all."
"Good, let him begin at once!" So remarked the oldest man among them. "Come, Fred, here's your congregation before you. Can you make shift with this block of coal for a pulpit, and preach us a sermon?"
"Yes, yes," echoed a little chorus of voices. "There's five minutes before the pay window opens."
"Now, then, Fred, mount the pulpit. Preach us a three minutes sermon," said one; "I'll be clerk."
All this time, the collier addressed as "Fred" had not spoken. He stood listening with a good-natured smile to the lively banter of his mates. Then very quietly he stepped on the block of coal, amid exclamations of, "Ah! ah! a good joke indeed. Fancy Fred Sharpe, of all people, turning preacher!"
The bright light from a large iron brazier of burning coals lit up the features of the tall miner, showing the peaceful, happy look in his dark eyes. For a moment he bowed his head, and a silent cry went up to God for help. Then he said, quietly: "Well, mates, I—"
"No, no, a sermon," they cried; "you must begin with a text, your reverence."
There was a moment's pause. Again, after a swift upward glance, the miner said in a low, earnest tone: "My text shall be Christ's words to Saul of Tarsus: `I am Jesus' (Acts 9). During the last ten days those words have been constantly in my mind. You said, boys, that you wanted to know about my conversion, and I've been longing to tell you what God has done for me. You may well say Fred Sharpe is the last man you would expect to see on the Lord's side. Two weeks ago I was cursing and swearing, and saying I didn't believe there was a God. Now today by His grace I can say I know there is a God, and I know that He's my Father! I know there is a Savior, and that He has saved me! I know there is a Holy Spirit, and that He is willing to teach and enlighten me!"
By this time the little group of miners had gradually drawn nearer to the speaker, listening in amazement to their fellow workman, as he continued: "Boys, do you say, 'How did all this happen?' Well, I can scarcely tell you; but do you remember how Saul was changed into the Apostle Paul? Do you remember he suddenly heard a voice speaking from heaven? Well, mates, it was like that with me. I was journeying fast on the wrong road. I'd had warnings and kind words from my friends, but I wouldn't listen to them. But then God spoke to me!
"Maybe you heard that last Wednesday week I missed the last train from the town where I had been shopping. For a wonder I was quite sober. It was a pitch dark night, and I had to walk that nine miles back. You know how bad the road is, and a bad time I had of it to find my way. In the bitter wind and snow I thought I'd never get through.
"Suddenly there flashed into my mind a few words my mother once said to me. It was something about two roads—one to heaven, and one to hell. She said the one that led to God was lighted by His presence. Then all at once I thought: 'Fred, you are certainly not on that road. Your life can't bear God's light on it.'
"Then, boys, I shall never forget how I seemed to see before me all my sins. As I stumbled along in the dark, my whole past life seemed spread out before me, and I couldn't bear the sight. For hours I stumbled on. Once or twice I cried out—yes, and the words came from my very soul—`Lord, it's true, quite true. I am a lost sinner. But O, Lord, save me!'
"I don't know how time passed, but suddenly I seemed to be a little boy again, standing at my mother's knee. I could hear her saying, 'Jesus said, Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.'
"And I who had cursed His name and mocked at His people, heard Him saying to me: 'I am Jesus, whom thou persecutest.'
"All this time I was floundering around in the darkness, and didn't know where I was. I was lost, both physically and spiritually. Tears flowed down my cheeks, but with those words, 'I am Jesus whom thou persecutest,' light came into my soul. Ah, and I was rescued, too, as you know, and brought home."
Not one of Fred's "congregation" moved or spoke. The falling of the burning coals in the fire basket was the only sound heard as he continued most earnestly: "Now, boys, you know I am no preacher. I wish I were, if I could reach your hearts, and just compel you to come to this wonderful Savior. He's standing by your side, and He says, 'I am Jesus,' and Jesus means Savior. Oh, boys, you know what I've been. Yet He has saved me, as He did that persecutor Saul. I tell you, He longs to do the same for you. Oh, won't you let Him?"
The sermon was done. There was a solemn hush as the young miner ceased speaking. He buried his face in his hands, and cried to God to save his companions. Then quietly he slipped down from his coal block pulpit.
As he started to walk away one of the men went up to him, saying: "You said, 'Won't you let the Lord Jesus save you, as He has done me?' and I want to say before them all, 'I will,'—that is, if He will have the likes of me."
With a heart overflowing with thanks to God, Fred answered: "He has said, 'Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out,' and you've got His word to depend on."
It wasn't many months before Fred knew that, through God's blessing on his words that afternoon, three of his "congregation" were happily converted and were humbly serving and following Christ.
"God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Rom. 5: 8.