Jesus’ face must have borne the impress of His experiences.  The early home experience would bring out patience and simplicity and sympathy.  Those forty days in the wilderness would intensify the purity and strength, and bring evidence of struggle and of victory.  The Jordan waters, with the voice of approval, would deepen the mark of peace.  Constant contact with the sick and suffering would bring out yet more the tenderness and gentleness.  Constant teaching of undisciplined folk would intensify the patience.  Constant contact with sin would intensify the unflinching sternness of purity.  The Transfiguration would deepen the spirituality, with possibly an added glory-touch.  Gethsemane wrote in the deep lines of intense suffering, with the intangible spirituality of victory and great peace.  And, at the last, Calvary with its scars marked in a beauty of suffering and of spirituality refined beyond description.  A marvellous face that human face of Jesus.

Indeed, the glory of God was in the face of Jesus as He walked quietly among men.  Looking into that face men saw God.  That simple, gentle, patient, pure face, with its deep peace and victory and yet its yearning—­that was God looking out into men’s faces.

The Music of God in the Voice of Jesus.

The face of that face was the eye.  The eye is the soul of the face.  Through it the man looks out and shows himself.  Through it we look in and see him.  Where the fires of self-ambition burn the flame is always in the eye.  Only where those fires are out or never lit does the real beauty-light of God come into the eye.  Great leaders have ever been noted for their eyes, before whose glance strong men have cowed and quailed, or eagerly coveted the privilege of service.

Those must have been matchless eyes of Jesus, keen, kindly, flashing out blinding lightning, sending out softest subdued light.  The Nazareth mob couldn’t stand the look of those eyes, nor the bolder Jerusalem mob reaching down for the stones, nor the deputation sent to arrest, nor even the reckless Roman soldiers at the garden gate.  The disciples who were closest sometimes followed him afraid and amazed because of the look of those eyes.  And yet the little children put their arms around His neck, and looked up fearlessly and lovingly.  And the crowd listened by the hour with their eyes fastened upon His.

The voice of Jesus must have been music itself.  It speaks once of His singing a hymn.  How we would all have loved to hear Him sing!  But that voice was music at all times, whether in song or speech.  Low, modulated, rhythmic, gentle, rich, resonant—­wondrous music.  Those who have heard Spurgeon and Gladstone almost always speak of the rare musical quality in their voices.  So, and more would it be with this Jesus.  It has been said that the personality reveals itself in the speech.  It reveals itself yet more, and more subtly, in the sound of the voice.