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 .
If you are ready to commit to the Lord
do it here and now !
After two years, I applied to Saint Joseph’s University. I had all intentions of becoming a undergraduate student that lived on campus and got involved in every way possible. When I was not approved for private loans without a cosigner, that dream quickly fizzled out. I made the decision to drive the 15-miles to campus each day. While I wanted to quit my job and put everything I had into my education, that just wouldn’t be a possibility. I could not and would not in good conscious leave my mom with a $ tuition bill each month. I continued to work 20-30 hours each week to help lessen my mother’s financial burden.
No such statement emerged from the Guardian. Chris Elliott, the readers’ editor, took eleven days to reply to my email. He referred to the death threat as a “joke” and defended some of the actions of the Guardian, though said they should not have used that picture or allowed the death threats to go undeleted. Eventually, he published an article in which the Guardian apologised to me for not deleting the beheading tweet sooner, and quoting Mr Evans as apologising "for any trouble this may have caused to anyone involved". This was approximately three weeks after the original comments had appeared.