Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1907-12-20
The Worlds Most Heroic
Figure.
By Rsb. MeweH D9otsht HilHs.

| ONE biographies of heroes
| c are long, and yet they leave
| - the central figure vague
:: :: :: and shadowy form. The me-
| S morabilia of Jesus are short,
-01 and yet we know him as we
| know familiar friend of yesterday.
From his features not one line is lack
| ing. His flower like childhood, the
| purity of his youth, the majesty and
| beauty of his increasing manhood, the
| atmosphere of character that he car
| ried-all, all are fully known. Stand
| ing on the hilltop, we look down upon
a populous valley holding in its lap
| shining towns and cities, and from the
mount we look down across the career
of Jesus, bright with parallels, spark
ling with deeds of mercy, glorious with
wonder words and works. Once none
| so little but that Jesus was less in
| honor; now, none so exalted as singer,
| scientist, reformer artist, poet, but
| that he seeks to borrow new fame by
| linking his name with one whose star
has climbed zenithward into solitary
pre-eminence.
In the republic every citizen is one
eighty-millionth of king. In the civ
ilization of to-day every leader who
has conquered the love of the genera
tion he has served is one fraction of
the Christ life, and has borrowed his
inspiration and ideal from the carpen-
ter's Son. More wonderful than all
else is his unfolding perfection. In
general perfection means the purga-
tion of imperfections. Slowly some
Thorwaldsen rubs off a speck of mar
BILE dust here and sandpapers the mi
mute roughness there. Slowly, with
here stroke and there stroke, the
artist carries his canvas toward ideal
beauty. With infinite erasures and In
terlineations the poet polishes his per-
feet verse. Success is the residuum
left aftor thousand artistic failures.
With God it is otherwise. All his
sweetbriar has to do is to unroll. So
it was with Jesus. He unfolded each
faculty as rose it's petals. Lo, there
was nothing to be added, and nothing
to be taken away. And yet he grew
in wisdom. By experience, by work,
by travel, and conversation he gath
cred knowledge about the fields, the
woods, the sea. the sky, about men,
tools and events. Also. what we never
would have dared to say the word of
God says. His memorabilia declare
he ''grew in favor with God" Gods
confidence and love were increasing
events, marching steadily toward the
day when the voice was heard whis-
pering, Thou art my Beloved Son, in
whom l am we'll pleased" And this
message falling on the inner ear was
the bliss of his solitude and the re-
ward of his work.
II we can trust our analysis of the
Magnificat of Mary, his mother was
the most gifted intellect of her time.
No spring rises higher than its source,
and Mary the singer explains the
sweetness of the song. In that far off
era the Sabbath with its hours whit
ened by prayer and perfumed with
aspiration, lent richness to his mind
and heart.
Often it is said that his handicraft
was against Jesus. Not so. His needs
were few. His work was In the open
air. Bending over the plow, Cincin-
natus meditated his laws. Tending
his flocks, David wrought out his
songs Moving slowly along the fur
row Burns found his music. In all
ages the crook and the plow have
united work and health to reflection
and genius,