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 3 years, he was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book
He never held an office
He never went to college
He never visited a big city
He never travelled more than two hundred miles
From the place where he was born
He did none of the things
Usually associated with 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
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 on earth
~ his clothing.
When he was dead
He was laid in a borrowed grave
Through the pity of a friend
Twenty centuries have come and gone
And today Jesus is
The central figure of the human race
And the leader of mankind’s progress.
All the armies that have ever marched
All the navies that have ever sailed
All the parliaments that have ever sat
All the kings that ever reigned put together
Have not affected the life of mankind on earth
As powerfully as that
One solitary life.
Rev. James A. Francis @ 1926