BARBER SHOP PREACHING
Dear
Leader Chosen of God,
Yeah, you're right; this is another installment from my visits to the Great
America Barber Shop. I stopped by today because we have company coming
tonight and Norma said, "You need a haircut."
There are two chairs in the shop. I take whichever opens up
first. This time it was John the owner. His son, who is new to the
profession, was my barber the last time. It was his first time to work on
me. He did a good job, but he does not know me, AND dad was not there.
Because of that and the fact that he is young, single and looking, the
conversation was more about the pretty girls and ladies who walked by the shop
than anything else. My attempts to steer the conversation away from that
vital subject met with ignoble defeat.
The shop was filling up as I climbed into John's chair. "Hey, Pastor Jack, how have you been doing?"
"Fine," I answered; "but, as you can see, I need this haircut bad."
As he took my glasses I asked, "John, didn't you tell me some time ago that
your pastor asked you to teach some kind of class on substance abuse?"
"You're right," he answered, obviously pleased that I remembered.
"It's called HURTS, HANGUPS, AND HABITS."
Before I go on let me describe the setting. I was in the barber chair
which faced the men who were waiting their turn. The barber is behind
me. In order for me to carry on a conversation with him I have to speak
up.
Being a preacher by trade I got the distinct impression that my congregation
was sitting in front of me. They were talking about the Super Bowl but
they were not going anywhere. God seemed to be whispering in my ear, so I
said, "Why not Lord".
John and I began to talk. "You know Pastor Jack, I haven't been
involved with this church stuff very long."
"No kidding," I answered. "When did you come to Christ?"
"Not
until I was 38."
"Wow; you did a heap of living before that took place. How did it
happen?"
At that point the Super Bowl conversation began to fade. "Father, I think you are doing something here," I
prayed.
For the next few moments John told me his story. He had kids.
The school system was not good. He and his wife heard about a religious
school. They did not do too much checking but signed the kids up.
It sure couldn't hurt; after all it was a church. Maybe they ought to
attend a couple of times, just to be sure. The people were a little
lively (on the Pentecostal side,) but they were nice. The second Sunday a
missionary spoke. He wanted money. That's all these churches do;
try to get your money. I was ticked. I asked for a meeting with the
Pastor. I brought my list with me. I had it written down. You
know that Pastor patiently answered every one of my questions. We were
there at least an hour.
By now it seemed that the only sounds in The Great American Barber Shop were
John's and mine. The spotlight was on. I could visualize heads bent
our way. As the scissors went clickity-click all ears were on our
conversation.
Suddenly I felt a little uncomfortable. "HOLY SMOKE! Everybody
is listening. MaybeI have gone far enough with this." Now, where do
you suppose that thought came from? Two places: my own ego and the
supernatural powers of darkness. But make no mistake - that emotion was real and powerful. Though
it did not last long, it almost shut me down. I
want you reading this to understand that because that happens to most of you
too
Two
seconds later I asked, "What happened next?"
He chuckled and went on. "The Pastor said, ‘I've answered your
questions John. Now may I ask you one?"
"What
was his question?"
"He
asked me if I was ready to go to heaven?"
"WOW!"
I exclaimed.
He quit cutting my hair, walked around to the front of the chair. Waving
his scissors in the air as he looked me straight in the eye, he said, "Then - right there in his office - before I left - HE LED
ME TO THE LORD!"
I'm
telling you I was ready to give the invitation!
That as far as things got this morning - but the Gospel was given; the seed
was sown.
In
His love, Pastor Jack
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