Gloryteller

*
**
***
*****
*******
***********
*

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 obscure village, where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty, and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book.
He never held an office.
He never owned a home.
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 where He was born.
He never did one of the things that usually accompany greatness.
He had no credentials but Himself.
He had nothing to do with this world except the naked power of His divine manhood.
While still a young man, the tide of public opinion turned against Him.
His friends ran away.
One of them denied Him.
Another betrayed Him
He was turned over to His enemies.
He went through the mockery of a trial.
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves.
His executioners gambled for the only piece of property
He had on earth while He was dying—and that was his coat.
When he was dead, He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave
through the pity of a friend.
Twenty wide centuries have come and gone, and today He is the centerpiece of the human race and the leader of the column of progress.
I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched,
and all the navies that ever were built,
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 has this One Solitary Life.

Dr James Allan Francis in “The Real Jesus and Other Sermons”
© 1926 by the Judson Press of Philadelphia
~~~~~
As eloquent and powerful as this piece is,
I feel that even this is inadequate to explain
the full importance of our Immanuel’s life,
sacrificial death, and resurrection on this planet.
–Your Gloryteller

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*

*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
**

*
*
*

*****