The Life Sublime
A boy of twelve in old Jerusalem one day realised that he had reached the age when he must think for himself and make decisions. Without false ideas of independence he went back to his home and workshop and did the things his parents thought best, but he began that day to live his own life and to make plans for helping the world. He was not ambitious to be rich or famous, he would not fight, and he hated meanness, cruelty, injustice and hypocrisy. When he grew to manhood he healed sick people, comforted the sorrowful, pitied those who did wrong, divided his food with the hungry, strengthened the weak and made friends with children.
He loved the sea and boats, the hills and fields, flowers and birds. He was brave in danger, patient when persecuted, heroic in temptation, pure in heart, and so loving and unselfish that millions of people who never saw him love him and would lay down their lives for him. He did not preach long sermons—he never wrote a book. You could easily commit to memory all his recorded words. He died poor and almost friendless, and yet we celebrate his birthday throughout the world; we date our letters from the year of hfe birth; we offer in Congress and Parliaments prayers in his name. The history of his life is printed in four hundred languages. Kings and emperors, presidents and judges, statesmen and scholars, peasants and slaves, declare this to be the greatest and best of all books. Thousands of magnificent buildings have been erected to him—abbeys, cathedrals and churches. Our greatest colleges were dedicated to this poor boy who never went to college, never left his own little country, and died when he was only thirty-three years old. From his life and death painters, poets, orators and musicians have gained their highest inspiration. From this wonderful, perfect boyhood and the work he began, girls and boys of every land may learn kindness, courage, obedience and devotion to duty.
Alternate Reading: Revelation 22: 6-16.