In 1880, D. L. Moody came to St. Louis, Missouri to conduct evangelistic meetings, the local newspaper, the Globe-Democrat, announced that it was going to print every word he said. Moody made up his mind that he “would weave in a lot of Scripture for the Globe-Democrat to print, and that might count if my own poor words should fail.”
Valentine Burke was a burglar who had spent twenty years of his life in prison. Burke at that time was in the St. Louis jail awaiting trial. Solitary confinement was wearing on him. Somebody threw a newspaper into his cell one morning, and the first thing that caught his eye was a headline: “How the Jailer of Philippi got Caught.” He sat down with a chuckle to read the story of the jailer’s plight. “Philippi!“ he said knowingly, “that’s up in Illinois. I’ve been there.”
It was Moody’s sermon of the night before. “What rot is this?” exclaimed Burke. “Paul and Silas—‘What must I do to be saved?’ Has the Globe-Democrat got to print such stuff?” He looked at the date. Yes, it was Friday morning’s paper. Burke threw it down with an oath, and walked around his cell liked a caged lion.
Eventually he read the sermon through. His heart grew restless. Again and again he picked up the paper and read its strange story. “What does it mean?” he asked himself. “What is it to be saved, anyway? If there is such a God as that preacher is telling about, I believe I’ll find it out, if it kills me.” Near midnight, after hours of bitter remorse over his wasted life, he prayed, the first time since he was a child at his mother’s knee. Burke learned that there is a God who is able and willing to blot out the darkest record at a single stroke.
In a few weeks Burke came to trial; but was released on a technicality. Friendless, and with a criminal record, he had a hard time for months. But, as brave as a Christian as he had been as a burglar, Burke struggled on. He went to New York, hoping to find honest work. He didn’t succeed, and after six months came back to St. Louis. One day there came a message that he was wanted at the courthouse.
“Some old case they’ve got against me,” he said; “but if I’m guilty I’ll tell them.” Sheriff Mason greeted him kindly. “Where have you been, Burke?” He told him he had been in New York trying to find a decent job.
“Burke,” said the sheriff, “I’ve had you shadowed every day you were in New York. I suspected that your religion was a fraud; but I know you’ve lived an honest life, and I’ve sent for you to offer you a deputyship.”
Later Moody met with Burke in a room in the courthouse where the one-time thief was serving as trusted guard over a bag of diamonds.
“Mr. Moody,” he said, “see what the grace of God can do for a burglar. Look at this!”
On another occasion, Sherriff Mason gave Burke his old “rogue’s gallery” photo. Valentine Burke inscribed the following words on the back: “He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth the needy out of the dunghill; that He may set him with princes, even with the princes of His people” (Ps. 113:7-8).