The wisdom of Christ could not have been supplied by others; there were none to supply it.  There was no source but the inexhaustible fountain of the Almighty from which to draw that which He gave forth “as one having authority.”  “Who among His Apostles or proselytes,” asks John Stuart Mill, “was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus or of imagining the life and character revealed in the Gospels?”

No person, less than divine, could have carried the message or rendered the service He did to mankind.  How, for instance, could He have learned from His own experience or from His environment the startling proposition that He embodied in His interpretation of The Parable of the Sower?  “The care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the truth,” and yet in that short sentence He gave an epitome of all human history.  Reforms come up from the oppressed, not down from the oppressors—­a fact which Christ explains in a word.

He announced the divine order:  “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.”  Duty to God comes first—­all other things that are good for us will come in due time.

His parables stand alone in literature; they have no parallel in the expression of great truths with beauty and simplicity through object lessons taken from every-day life.  These truths covered a wide range and were embedded in the language of the parable because of the unbelief of that day.  They are increasingly appreciated as their practical application to all time becomes more and more manifest.

The parable of the Prodigal Son is the most beautiful story of its kind ever told and is based on an experience through which nearly every person passes, but few of whom, fortunately, carry the spirit of rebellion to the point of leaving home.  At that period which marks the transition from youth to maturity—­from dependence on others to self-reliance—­rebelliousness is likely to be exhibited to a greater or less extent even where the parents have done everything possible for the child.  Christ takes an extreme case where the wisdom and experience of the father were scorned; where a wilful son insisted upon learning for himself of the things against which the father had warned him.  He was of age; parental authority could no longer be exerted for his protection.  He had his way, and as long as his money lasted he found plenty of associates willing to help him spend it; the “boys” had what the wicked call “a good time.”  Then came the sobering up, the repentance, the humility, the return, the father’s welcome, the very natural complaint of the other son and the parental rebuke—­all so lifelike and all designed to give emphasis to the love of the Heavenly Father and the joy in Heaven when a wanderer returns.  How many souls it has awakened!  The thought has been beautifully translated into song by Rev. Robt.  Lowry, in “Where Is My Wandering Boy To-night?” which has probably touched more hearts than any sermon delivered since the song was written in 1877.