Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another village. He worked in a carpenters shop until He was thirty, and then for three years he was an itinerant preacher. He never owned a home. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family. He never went to a college. He never put his foot in a big city.He never travelled two hundred mile from the place where he was born.He never did one of the things that usually accompanied greatness. He had no credentials but himself... While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. One of them denied Him and one also betrayed him. He was turned over to His enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed up on a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, His executors gambled for the only piece of property He had on earth--His coat. When he was dead he was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. Twenty long centuries have come and gone,and today He is the centrepiece of the human race and the leader of column of progress. I am far within the mark when i say that all the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever were built; all the parliamentarians that ever sat and all presidents and kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as has that one solitary life who is he?
Posted on: Mon, 09 Sep 2013 17:08:55 +0000
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