How does one begin to discuss the significance of Jesus Christ?  One runs the risk of presumption, in the very least, let alone deficiency of description. 

His Name amounts to everything from lip-service to religious musak.  It makes some people nervous, others violent, still others sentimental; for some, His Name is Life.

We date history by His birth.  An entire civilization has been labeled “Christian.”  His mode of execution has come to adorn everything from cemeteries to ear-lobes.
His birth and resurrection remain watersheds of each calendar year.

Who was He?  He was born Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph the carpenter and Mary, his young bride. 

    The Duke of Wellington was the military savior of western civilization when he defeated Napoleon on the field of Waterloo in Belgium in 1815.  His status and popularity in its day knew no bounds and is today rivaled only by uber-celebrities.

The Duke of Wellington as a politician and statesman was another story.  One historian commented that “He might be a national hero, but like other national possessions he was reduced to constitutional proportions.”

It had to have been humbling.  Wellington the soldier simply had to issue orders, but Wellington the politician and statesman had to debate and discuss, and to attend to the opinions of others and reckon with parliamentary votes and public pressures.

A lady lives here.  A little one she is, but still a lady.  Let us refer to her as the Little Lady.  And the Little Lady has taken up residence with us, her presence adorning our home with the special grace that only a little lady the likes of her can offer.

I never reared children, so my impression was that the rearing and nurturing of little ones was consuming of time, energy and attention but, if they were one’s own, it was well worth such expenditure.

It is that time of year.  We celebrate our nation’s 234th birthday on July 4.  It is a worthy commemoration, one encouraging special reflection, let alone celebration.

I usually spend my summers reading up on some aspect of the Founding Fathers or, more broadly, the colonial and revolutionary eras of our history.  I am currently drawn afresh to the Federalist Papers.  Here is an extract from No. 37:

My guys lost.  The final score was 83-79.  The Boston Celtics were ahead at one point during the game by thirteen points, but couldn’t nail down the win.  The Los Angeles Lakers did.  It was heartbreaking, but life goes on, as they say.

It hurt all the more, though, that it came at the hands of their arch-nemesis.  The Celtics and Lakers are the matter and anti-matter of professional sports.  Their games are more like cataclysmic battles than sporting events.

Sometimes you lose no matter how hard you try, no matter how good you appear to be faring, even when victory seems to be a sure thing, and even when the event has all the hallmarks of an edifying end-result.