A Tribute To Jesus Christ The Messiah By Billy Sunday
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By Billy Sunday (1862-1935)

To many Jesus Christ is only a great subject for a painting,
A heroic theme for a poem,
A beautiful form for a statue,
And a thought for a song,
But to those who have heard His voice,
Who have felt His pardon,
Who have received His benediction,
He is music, light, warmth, joy, hope and salvation.

A Friend Who never forsakes,
Lifting you up when others try to put you down.
We cannot wear Him out;
We pile on Him all our grief and troubles.
He is always ready to help us.
He addresses us with the same love.
He beams down upon us with the same smile.
He pities us with the same compassion.

There is no name like His.
It is more imperial than Caesar’s.
It is more musical than Beethoven’s.
It is more conquering than Napoleon’s.
It is more eloquent than Demosthenes.
It is more inspiring than Washington’s.
It is more patient than Lincoln’s.

The name of Jesus throbs with all life.
It weeps with all pathos.
It groans with all pain.
It stoops with all love.
It breathes laden with perfume.

Who like Jesus can mend a broken heart?
Who like Jesus to pity a homeless orphan?
Who like Jesus to welcome a prodigal back home?
Who like Jesus to make a drunkard sober?
Who like Jesus to illuminate a cemetery plowed with graves?
Who like Jesus to make a queen unto God
Out of the lost woman of the street?
Who like Jesus to catch the tears of human sorrow in His bowl?
Who like Jesus can kiss away our misery?

I struggle for a metaphor with which to express Jesus.
He is not like the bursting forth of an orchestra.
That is too loud, and it might be out of tune.
He is not like the sea when lashed into rage by a storm.
That is too boisterous.
He is not like a mountain wreathed with lightning and canopied with snow.
That is too solitary and remote.
He is the Lily of the Valley–the Rose of Sharon—
And a gale of spices swept from heaven.

Dr. Leesi Ebenezer Mitee
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