One Lord's Day morning two Christian men were out giving printed invitations to a Gospel meeting to be held that same evening. As they went along one street they came to a barber's shop. It was open, for on that morning very often his best trade was done. They went in and handed the barber an invitation.
Looking at it he quickly said: "No use to me. Here, take it back; I'm not coming.”
One of the men answered, "Why not? The meeting is not till evening, and you will be closed then. Why not come? The seats are free and there's a welcome for you.”
"That's true, I do close my shop before then," answered the barber; "but if I did come you would just tell me to close my shop and keep the Sabbath.”
"Nothing of the kind! You come tonight and you will not hear a word about shutting your shop. But you will hear the Gospel.”
Assured again that he would hear nothing about closing up, he said, "Well, I'll not promise, but I may come along." As they passed on, their prayers went up to God that He would incline him to be there.
When the meeting began, the barber was sitting among the others. Not a word was said about "shutting shop." Indeed, nothing was put before the sinner as needful to be done; but the fact was stressed that man is a sinner before God, guilty, condemned and that no effort on his part can suffice to cleanse that guilt away.
The barber had feared but one thing: "shutting shop." Now he saw his own heart in the presence of God a heart poisoned with sin and an enemy of God. No doing was required, for the very "doing" of a sinful man is an abomination to God. "Ye must be born again," the Lord Jesus had said. His own precious blood must be shed, Christ must die in our stead, or sin could never be forgiven.
That night the barber listened, entranced, to the story of God's love. He saw himself as the sinner that Christ died to save; he owned Him as Savior and Lord; and he left that hall "a saved man, rejoicing in Christ,” as he said to those who had invited him.
The following Lord's Day morning those two Christians were around with invitations again. As they came to the barber's shop they looked—it was his best, morning for business. What would he do? The answer was before them. The door was shut. Customers had come as usual and were startled to see, not the well-known pole, the usual sign, but a new and singular one. In large letters was posted the following text:
The wondrous love of God for poor, lost sinners had so filled the heart of the barber that his shop, his prosperity, all he had was not enough to lay at His, the blessed Savior's, nail-pierced feet.
Have you, too, my reader, seen the precious Savior "lifted up" upon that cruel cross—for you? Will you not believe it, receive it, and enter into the good of it while it is still the "day of salvation"?