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One Solitary Life
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 carpenter shop until He was thirty. 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 college. He never put His foot
inside a big city. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place He
was born. He never did one of the things that usually accompany
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. He was turned over to His
enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed upon a
cross between two thieves. While He was dying His executioners gambled
for the only piece of property He had on earth – His coat. When He was
dead, He was laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend.
Nineteen long centuries have come and gone, and today He is a
centerpiece of the human race and leader of the column of progress.
I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever
marched, all the navies that were ever built; 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 has that one
solitary life.
This essay was adapted from a sermon by Dr James Allan Francis in
“The Real Jesus and Other Sermons” © 1926 by the Judson Press of
Philadelphia (pp 123-124 titled “Arise Sir Knight!”). If you are
interested, you can read the original version .
