My dad emailed me today, asking me to find a particular poem for him, which he had once used in a talk he gave. I used the key words that he had given me:
Jesus, Carpenter, 200 miles, poem
Google gave me 91,700 hits.
As I continued my search, the whole place around me seemed to shift at the impact of a life lived almost 2000 years ago, according to historians; a life I still believe continues, in every sense of the word.
In most of the world, each day's date refers to that time. Millions of lives are changed because of what happened. People die because of it, people go on living because of it, I believe miracles happen in his name, books are written, songs are sung, debates are held, hope is given; in this very room where I sit, the foundations of this building were set, the mortar and plaster and airconditioning ducts were installed, the carpet was laid, my desk and computer were put in place for me to do what I do, all because someone was inspired by a man who, almost 2000 years ago, in a region halfway around the world, took three years of his earthly life to embrace and magnify the mystery of God's person. Oh, I have my beliefs about who he was, whether you may agree with them or not, and why he did what he did. But the place where I find myself today is one of reflection on his impact.
That's not just human. It can't be.