We must know Jesus as once tabernacling in the flesh, and dwelling among men as a man—hallowing earthly spots with His presence—entering the dwellings of men—sitting with them at their tables—noticing and blessing their children—mingling all the scenes of domestic life—smiling upon our loves—sanctioning our marriage-feasts—healing our diseases—pitying our infirmities—weeping at our tombs—consecrating our loneliness and solitude; in a word, unveiling a bosom, the perfect reflection of our own, in all but its sinfulness.
We need fellowship, not with a sentiment, not with a tradition, nor with an idea, but with a real, living, personal being. We seek communion with, and sympathy from, a Savior in alliance with our veritable nature, endowed with real, deep, holy sensibility, disciplined by personal sorrow like our own, and moved with a quick response to every note of “the still, sad music of humanity.”
Octavius Winslow