I recently read a wonderful description of our Lord and Savior that I couldn't help but want to share. What a great reminder of who's in charge of all the world's events. In the midst of daily bad news, never forget who our true Savior is. Read and be encouraged.
And what a life! Christians often use a negative, chilly word to describe Christ’s life: it was sinless. That tells us what he was not: he was not selfish, cruel, abusive, twisted, petty or proud. Now, when opened out like that, we can see that to be “sinless” is beautiful, dynamic and attractive. The trouble is, we often leave the word closed, and then it reinforces all our stereotypes of what “holy people” are like: bloodless, bland, dreamy, delicate and so spiritual it looks painful.
But what was he like? Anything but boring and anemic! Here was a man with towering charisma, running over with life. Health and healing, loaves and fishes, all abounded in his presence. So compelling did people find him that crowds thronged round him. Men, women, children, sick and mad, rich and poor: they found him so magnetic some wanted just to touch his clothes. Kinder than summer, he befriended the rejects and gave hope to the hopeless. The dirty and despised found they mattered to him. His closest friends found that, as the Son of Man came eating and drinking, being with him was like being with a bridegroom at a wedding.
Robert Law wrote:
The blessings of the Divine Kingdom He was bringing to men He could compare to nothing so much as to the festive joys of marriage (Mark 2:19). Himself and His disciples were like a wedding-party. He was the bridegroom whose joy overflows into the hearts of his friends, and turns fasting into feasting. Even at the last, on the verge of Gethsemane and in sight of Calvary, He speaks not of His sorrows, but still of His joy. He is the Lord of joy, and His crowning desire for His servants is that they may enter into the joy of their Lord and have it fulfilled in them. Yet Jesus is the Man of Sorrows: and it is because He is the Man of Sorrows that His joy is so precious a legacy, so strong an anchor to our souls.
Yes, he was a man who felt a world of pain, yet who abounded with joy.
Generous and genial, firm and resolute, he was always surprising. Loving but not soppy, his insight unsettled people and his kindness won them. Indeed, he was a man of extraordinary—and extraordinarily appealing—contrasts. You simply couldn’t make him up, for you'd make him only one or the other. He was red-blooded and human, but not rough. Pure, but never dull. Serious with sunbeams of wit. Sharper than cut glass, he out-argued all comers, but never for the sake of the win. He knew no failings in himself, yet was transparently humble. He made the grandest claims for himself, yet without a whiff of pomposity. He ransacked the temple, spoke of hellfire, called Herod a fox, the Pharisees pimped-up corpses, and yet never do you doubt his love as you read his lite.
With a huge heart, he hated evil and felt for the needy. He loved God and he loved people. You look at him and you have to say, “Here is a man truly alive, unwithered in any way, far more vital and vigorous, far more full and complete, far more human than any other.”