One Solitary Life

The crucifixion - Philippe de Champaigne

He was born in on obscure village. He was the only child of a simple Jewish family. He had an unforgettable childhood. Pampered by a doting grandmother and an affable grandfather who were always with his parents. He worked in his father’s carpentry shop. He astounded his parents when they saw their twelve-year-old son discoursing with the intellects during their visit to the temple in Jerusalem.

He angered the elite the scribes and the Pharisees when he spoke on hypocrisy, humility, forgiveness, faith and the utter impossibility of entering heaven for those living in a cauldron of ill-gotten wealth.

His disciples were simple village fold. Many toiled in the sea of galilee in finding their daily bread. His miracles awed the multiple. He made faith and love as two words that made man to be happy. He said that the greatest gift one could give to his friend was his life.

He was thirty-three when the tide of public opinion turned against him. Through a mockery of a trial he was crucified between two thieves. His executioners gambled for the only wealth 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 and nineteen years have come and he is one of central figures in the human race.

All the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat have not affected the life of man, as much as that one solitary life – Jesus of Nazareth.

His teaching wafted round mother Earth and gave her most consummate of beings the gift of love, hope, faith and charity.



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