Here was a man, a man who was born in a small village, the son of a peasant woman; he grew up in another small village. Until he reached the age of thirty he worked as a carpenter, then for three years he was a travelling minister. But he never travelled more than two hundred miles from where he was born, and where he did go, he usually walked.
He never held political office, he never wrote a book, he never bought a home, he never had a family, he never went to college, and he never set foot inside a big city, yet...here was a man.
Here was a man, though he never did one of the things that you usually associate with greatness, he had no credentials but himself; he had nothing to do with this world except through the divine purpose that brought him to this world.
While he was still a young man the tide of popular opinion turned against him; most of his friends ran away. One of them denied him, one of them betrayed him, and turned him over to his enemies. Then he went throught the mockery of a trial, and was nailed to a Roman cross between two thieves. And even while he was dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing, the only property he had on earth. When he was dead, he was taken down from the cross and laid in a borrowed grave provided by a compassionate friend.
More than nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today he's the centerpiece of the human race, Our leader in the column to human destiny. And I think I'm well within the mark when I say that all of the armies that ever marched, all of the navies that ever sailed, all of the legislative bodies that ever sat, and all of the kings that ever reigned, all of them put together, have not affected the life of man on this earth so powerfully as that one solitary life...here was a man.