It is fitting that my Lord should have spent His night upon a summit..
Roofs would have smothered Him.
Let me hear no more of my weakling Lord, sniveling in His sleeve when men's plan went against Him, cringing in stature and complaining of desertions.
My Lord was a God!
Let me always see Him as Gentleman Unafraid, constructing great issues, encompassing far marches, seeking no man's tribute, begging no man's hand, either for or against Him.
He had His work to do, and did it. He knew that other men had their labors also, that all men were not messiahs--the earth-scheme could not have it. He brought a chalice unto the world, and within it set a goblet. He made mankind to drink. But the hand that held it out showed them no fingers gilded with glass jewels.
He trod sturdily, evenly. Naught could upset Him. He met the lion and the wren, and gave them both His blessing..
His shoulders were broad..
He could laugh at pleasantry.
He looked upon the world and said, "I must live my life that if all men were like unto Me, the earth would hold no Problem."
Even death could not blanch Him.
They tell me that stormy seas obeyed Him. Is there a marvel in that?...He commanded His own spirit and the weathers bowed in reverence. He opened the floodgates of His wrath upon Mammon, but His strength was confined to upsetting of tables.
He took a child upon His knee and blessed it--perhaps He admired the rag about its finger--yet He talked to the harlot in terms of her charges.