Harry Lad Is Born Again
Harry Ironside
Harry Ironside was a remarkable boy!
At three he memorized his first scripture verse — one he did not learn the real meaning of for many years — "For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost" (Luke 19:10).
During his eighth year he read the Bible all the way through, reading three chapters on weekdays and five on Sundays. The next year he read the Bible through twice, and by the time he was fourteen he had caught up with himself by having read it through a total of fourteen times.
When his widowed mother moved from Toronto to Los Angeles, eleven-year-old Harry discovered there was no Sunday school in the neighborhood where they lived. But this was a challenge instead of a problem for him.
He gathered together the children in the neighborhood. After outlining his plans, he sent the boys out to collect all the cloth sacks and burlap bags they could find. Then he organized the girls into a sewing club. In a matter of days the youngsters had erected a burlap tent that would easily cover a hundred people. During the first year the average attendance was sixty. Harry was the teacher.
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Sometimes a few adults would come to the burlap tent Sunday school. After listening to Harry, they would come up, pat him on the head, and say, "God bless you, little preacher." Nothing pleased Harry more.
When Harry was twelve, Mr. Moody came to town. Harry was late for the first night of the 1888 Los Angeles Crusade. He found every seat taken in Hazzard's Pavilion so he walked up to the second gallery and found room in a trough-like girder that joined the gallery to the roof.
High up in his perch, Harry listened to the bearded evangelist preach. And while he listened he prayed, "Lord, help me some day to preach to crowds like these." He did not even dream then that forty-two years later he would be pastor of the church which Moody founded.
After Moody left, Harry continued his Sunday school work. One day when he was fourteen he came home from school to find a visitor waiting.
"Harry, you remember Mr. Munro, the evangelist," his mother said. "He visited us in Toronto."
Indeed, Harry did remember. Donald Munro, a tall man with a long brown beard, had stayed in the Ironside home on numerous occasions. And every time he had asked Harry at least once, "Lad, are you born again?" Harry's stock reply was that he memorized Scripture, gave out tracts, and went to Sunday school.
And Mr. Munro's retort was always, "Oh, laddie, you can do all that and still spend eternity in hell."
Now after a four-year absence, his old tormenter had caught up with him again. And, as Harry expected, his question was the same as before.
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"My, my, how you've grown, Harry, lad," the bearded preacher chortled. "Now tell me, are you born again yet, laddie?"
Harry blushed and stared down at the floor. Then his uncle Allan, who was present, interrupted, and Harry thought he was rescued.
"Didn't you know, sir? Harry preaches now. Has his own Sunday school."
But the bearded visitor only expressed amazement, "You mean you're preaching and not yet born again! Get your Bible, lad. We've some things to talk about."
Harry reluctantly dragged himself upstairs. A few moments later he shuffled back down.
"Now, lad, read Romans 3:19," Mr. Munro instructed.
Harry read the verse. "Now we know that what things soever the law saith, it saith to them who are under the law: that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God."
"Now, lad," the visitor commented. "When God makes a preacher, He stops his mouth first and shows him his lost condition. Then God leads him to put His trust in the Lord Jesus and He is born again. Don't you think you've been putting the cart before the horse?"
"Maybe so," Harry answered weakly in a not-too-positive tone.
A few weeks later, Harry became more convinced that he was going at things backward. He gave up his Sunday school, telling himself that if he was not a true Christian, he had no right to speak for God. Then the thought came, Since you're not a Christian, why not enjoy all the things you've stayed away from before?
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So Harry went out to have a good time in the world. But every time he did, he came home with a burning conscience. About six months later, Harry was attending a merry party of young people. Suddenly a verse of Scripture he had learned came to his mind: "Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you. Because I have called and ye refused; . . . I will mock when your fear comes . . . as desolation, and your destruction comes as a whirlwind . . . Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me" (Proverbs 1:23-24; 26-28).
As never before, fourteen-year-old Harry felt the pangs of his guilt before God. He saw what he had been doing. As soon as he could manage an exit, he hurried home to the privacy of his room.
He arrived after midnight and turned immediately to his Bible. First he turned to Romans 3, a chapter Mr. Munro had asked him to read. Then he turned back to John 3 and read about the new birth. He knew this chapter by memory, but this time the words stuck to his heart. His fingers moved over John 3:16 and "whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life," and verse 18, "Whoever believes on him is not condemned."
Then he declared aloud, "I believe, Lord. This verse says I'm not condemned if I believe."
But he felt no different. He read the verses over again. This time he said as resolutely as he knew how, "Lord, I rest on your promise. I do now take Christ as my Saviour, and because your Word says so, I know I have eternal life."
At long last, Harry Ironside had been born again.
The years ahead were fruitful ones for Harry Ironside. He became known around the world for his skill in Bible exposition. For many years he was pastor of the great Moody Memorial Church in Chicago. He wrote over twenty popular commentaries on books of the Bible, and authored dozens of other booklets and gospel tracts. But in all of his sermons and writings he never grew tired of telling how Harry-lad had been born again.
