Good Friday

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 traveling minister
But he never traveled 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
Never bought a home
Never had a family
He never went to college and he never set foot inside a big city
Yes, here was a man
Though he never did one of the things usually associated with greatness
He had no credentials but himself
He had nothing to do with this world
Except through the devine 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 through the mockery of a trial
And was nailed to a cross between two thieves
And even while he was dying his executioners gambled
For the only piece of property that he had in this world
And that was his robe
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 a centerpiece of the human race
Our leader in the column to human destiny
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 the seas
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

-Johnny Cash-