One Solitary Life

And being that on this day still finds itself Sunday, that day of the sun, I guess this following post that found itself posted on this blog some time a while ago may be an appropriate post to post on this blog on this blogging day.

Jesus Christ. What can I say about the following passage about Jesus. Again, it is one of those emails that was passed along from a friend who passed it along to another friend, who passed it along to another friend and so on and so on and so on. And I find it interesting. Maybe now could be a good time to repost it as it is the Christmas holiday season approaching and Jesus is the reason for the season

(regarding Jesus)

He was born in an obscure village, the child of a
peasant woman.
He grew up in still another village, where he worked
in a carpenter's shop until he was thirty. Then for
three years he was an itinerant preacher.
He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He
never had a family or owned a house. He did not go to
college. He never visited a big city. He never
traveled two hundred miles from the place where he was
born. He did none of the things one usually associates
with greatness.
He had no credentials but himself.
He was only thirty-three when the tide of public
opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. 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 his clothing, the only property he had on
earth. When he was dead, he was laid in a borrowed
grave through the pity of a friend.
Nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today he
remains the central figure of the human race, and the
leader of mankind's progress. All the armies that ever
marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all
parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever
reigned, put together, have not affected the life of
man on this planet so much as that one solitary life

Happy Holy Days