ONE SOLITARY LIFE
He was born in an obscure
village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village,
where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty. Then for three years He
was an itinerant preacher.
He never had a family or owned a home. He never
set foot inside a big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place
He was born. He never wrote a book, or held an office. He did none of the things
that usually accompany greatness.
While He was still a young man, the tide of
popular opinion turned against Him. His friends deserted Him. He was turned over
to His enemies, and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a
cross between two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for the
only piece of property He had --- His coat.
When He was dead, He was taken down and laid in a
borrowed grave.
Nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today
He is the central figure for much of the human race. All the armies that ever
marched, and all the navies that ever sailed, and all the parliaments that ever
sat, and all the kings that ever reigned, put together, have not affected the
life of man upon this earth as powerfully as this
"One Solitary Life."
This essay was adapted from a sermon by Dr James Allan Francis in “The Real Jesus and OtherSermons” ©1926 by the Judson Press. Graham Pockett
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