He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in still another village, where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty years old. Then for three years He was a poor itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held public office. He never had a family nor owned a house. He never went to college. He never traveled more than 200 miles from the place where He was born. Jesus did none of the things one usually associates with greatness. He had no credentials but Himself. He was only thirty-three when public opinion turned against Him. His friends deserted Him. He was turned over to His enemies and went through a mock trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. When He was dying, His executioners gambled for His clothing, the only property He had on earth. When He was dead, He was laid in a borrowed tomb because of the pity of a friend. Two thousand years have passed, and today He is still the central figure of the human race. He still will not be relegated to a particular niche of our experience nor will He compromise His principals for the sake of political correctness. All the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man on earth as much as that one solitary Life
Posted on: Sat, 13 Jul 2013 10:08:38 +0000
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