The Divine Magnet that Draws
with Irresistible Force Hearts of Steel by Archibald Brown from
My Banner December 5, 1869 But I, when I am lifted up from
the earth, will draw all men to myself. John chapter 12 verse
32 whenever and wherever Christ is lifted up, and His power to
attract is made plain. The elect of God, drawn by a
power they have no ability or will to resist, take their places
beneath the cross. The uplifting of Christ crucified
is God's chosen means to draw to Himself His elect yet hidden
people. The cross is the divine magnet
that draws with irresistible force hearts of steel. So mighty
is its magnetic power that it attracts those on whom all other
means have failed. We had often been compelled to
take our stand before Mount Sinai. But, though its lightnings flashed
into our very eyes and its thunders crashed right overhead, our heart
remained as hard as rock. Yes, pride seemed more rampant
in that dread storm than ever. We felt we might be broken, but
we resolved we would never bend. There have been moments when
Hell argued with us, and all its sentences were written in
glowing flame. There were moments when eternal
damnation forced itself upon our thoughts and made us dread
the death that never dies. But though our knees shook with
fright, our flinty hearts remained unmelted. Sinai and Hell both
failed. So did Heaven. For though we
read of its glories, and heard tell of its joys, and sometimes
had a languid desire at last to find our way there, we still
remained unattracted, and revelled in the vain world. when a bleeding
Saviour hanging on a tree met our sight, there not only were
our eyes riveted, but an unseen hand touched every heart-string. We looked and looked and looked
again, and felt that as we looked we were being drawn with silken
cords nearer, yet nearer still, until we found ourselves as penitents
at His blessed feet. Beautifully has John Newton described
this sweet experience as his own. In evil long I took delight,
unawed by shame or fear, until a new object struck my sight
and stopped my wild career. I saw one hanging on a tree in
agonies and blood. He fixed his languid eyes on
me as near his cross I stood. Sure, never till my dying breath
can I forget that look. It seemed to charge me with his
death, though not a word he spoke. A second look he gave, which
said, I freely all forgive. This blood is for your ransom
paid. I die that you may live. you