On the basis of that Cross, God now deals with man-through the persuasion of Christ's death, never that of mere coercion.  But if man can still stand at the foot of the Cross without making an ash-heap of his pride--if he will still give place to the devil by refusing to die with his Lord, well, God has no recourse; hope is dead.  For all such, the "rod of iron" is Heaven's only rule.  Every knee to Christ must bow.  His enemies will yet lick the dust.

In the meantime, Christ takes captives at the Cross.  Calvary eclipses all the power of all the thrones of the world.  What earthly power can dethrone self and unseat a man from the throne of every earthly ambition?  Christ is King of kings-from the Cross.  An earthly monarch has been known to kill his subject by a look.  Christ slaughters man, not by force or terror, but by Himself being slain.  He slays man to his pride and every other selfish consideration.  Never could "king lay hold of the heart of a subject as the cross lays hold of the life of a saint.  And this in the face of a judgment so adverse to the soul's selfish interests that it spells death" (Huegel).  All other loves, whether of home, or kindred, of country, or of life itself, may prove but spells that lose their charm, persuasives that lose their power; but in the Cross is that immortal root of a love that is stronger than death.

It is said that when the physicians were probing among the shattered ribs for the fatal bullet, the loyal French soldier said: "A little deeper and you will find the Emperor." In the heart of his being, he loved his king.  There are conditions, and circumstances, possibly a whole crown of thorns, that probe us deeply these days; but the design of the Cross is to make us "more than conquerors" in all these things.  Calvary recreates kings--kings in Christ--kings amidst all conditions.  Stephen the martyr, ringed in by wolves, reigned a king; every stone on that upturned brow fell upon the King.  Saul, the killer, got his first glimpse of the Crucified mirrored in this man with the angel face.  "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" When the things of "tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword," probe into our shattered lives a little deeper than ever before, do they find the King--self unseated, Christ enthroned?  Has the Cross so conquered my inner life that Christ is King over all my circumstances?

God has made us kings through the Crucified, but there can be no kingship while we ourselves arc still in chains.  "He is not escaped who drags his chain," says an old French proverb.  When the physician was probing into the physical weakness of "Praying Hyde" of India he found that this prayer warrior--a veritable king in the secret place of the Most High--had prayed his heart out of position.  An old Calcutta friend says (in the official life of Praying Hyde): "We have heard of martyrs who were kept in prison, and in the end were put to death.  But have we ever heard of one, who was so given up to the ministry of prayer that the strain of a daily burden brought him into a premature grave?" "No, friend," answers another brother in India, "not a premature grave; it was the grave of Jesus Christ.  John Hyde laid down his life calmly and deliberately for the Church of God in India." Who follows in his train, a kingly crown to gain?