Almost two thousand years ago there was a Man
born contrary to the laws of
life. This Man lived in poverty and was reared
in obscurity. He did not travel extensively. Only once did He cross the boundary
of the country in which He lived; that was during His childhood exile.
He
possessed neither wealth nor influence. His relatives were inconspicuous and He
had neither training nor formal education. In infancy, He startled a king; in
childhood, He puzzled doctors; in manhood, He ruled the course of nature, walked
upon the billows as if pavement, and hushed the sea to sleep.
He healed
the multitudes without medicine and made no charge for His service.
He
never wrote a book, and yet all the libraries of the country could not hold the
books that have been written about Him.
He never wrote a song and yet He
has furnished the theme for more than all the songwriters combined. He never
founded a college, but all the schools put together cannot boast of having as
many students. He never practiced medicine, and yet He has healed more broken
hearts than all the doctors far and near.
Every seventh day the wheels of
commerce cease their turning and multitudes wend their way to worshiping
assemblies to pay homage and respect to Him.
The names of the past proud
statesman of Greece and Rome have come and gone. The names of past scientists,
philosophers, and theologians have come and gone; but the name of this Man
abounds more and more. Though time has spread two thousand years between the
people of this generation and the scene of His crucifixion, yet He still
lives.
Herod could not destroy Him, and the grave could not hold Him.
He stands in Heavenly Glory, proclaimed of God, as the living, personal
Christ, our Lord and Savior.