To many, Jesus Christ is only a grand subject for a painting, a heroic theme for a pen, a beautiful form for a statue, and a thought for a song; but to those who have heard His voice, who have felt His pardon, who have received His benediction, He is music, warmth, light, joy, hope and salvation, a Friend who never forsakes, who lifts us when others try to push us down. We cannot wear Him out; we pile on Him all our griefs and troubles. He is always ready to lift us; He addresses us with the same love; He beams upon us with the same smile; He pities us with the same compassion.
There is no name like His. It is more inspiring than Caesar’s, more musical than Beethoven’s, more patient than Lincoln’s. The name of Jesus throbs with all life, weeps with all pathos, groans with all pains, stoops with all love. Its breath is laden with perfume.
Who like Jesus can pity a homeless orphan? Who like Jesus can welcome a prodigal back home? Who like Jesus can make a drunkard sober? Who like Jesus can illuminate a cemetery plowed with graves? Who like Jesus can make a queen unto God out of a lost woman of the street? Who like Jesus can catch the tears of human sorrow in His bowl?
There is no metaphor with which to truly express Jesus. He is not like the bursting forth of an orchestra; that is too loud and it may be out of tune. He is not like the sea when lashed into a rage by a storm; that is too boisterous. He is not like a mountain wreathed in lightning, canopied with snow; that is too solitary and remote.
He is the Lily of the Valley, the Rose of Sharon, a gale of spices from heaven.(Author Unknown)
