Of course each of the Gospel stories has a message of its own, quite apart from the group of facts common to them all.  And these four messages together give us the fuller distinctive message of these four little books.  And a very winsome message it is, too, that takes hold of one’s heart, and takes a warm strong hold at that.

Matthew tells us that Jesus is a King.  For a great purpose He chose to live as a peasant, as one of the common folks.  But He was of the blood royal.  He has the long unbroken kingly lineage.  He showed kingly power in His actions, kingly wisdom in His teachings, and the fine kingly spirit in His gracious kindliness of touch.  He was gladly accepted and served as King by those who understood Him best.  He was acknowledged as King by the Roman Governor; and He died as a King, and as a King was laid in a newly hewn tomb.

Mark adds a fine touch to this picture, a warm touch with colour in it,—­this King of ours is a serving King.  This comes not only with a warm feel, but it comes as a distinct surprise.  Men’s kings are served kings.  There have been kings, and are, who rendered their people a fine high service, and do.  But the overpowering impression given the common crowd watching on the street is that kings are superior beings, to be waited upon, humbly bowed to, and implicitly obeyed.  They are to be served.

Bat Mark’s picture shows us a King whose passion is to serve.  The service which He draws out of His followers is drawn out by His warm serving spirit towards us.  The words on the royal coat-of-arms are, “Not to be ministered unto, but to minister.”  And in the first meaning of the words He Himself used that means “not to be served but to serve.”  In Mark the air is tense with rapid action.  The quick executive movement of a capable servant is felt in the terse words short sentences and swift action of the story.

There’s yet warmer colouring in Luke’s picture.  This serving King is nearest of kin to us! He is not only of the blood royal, but of the blood human.  He is bone of our bone, blood of our blood, and life of our common life.  He came to us through a rare union of God’s power with human consent and human function, never known before nor repeated since.  This is the bit that Luke adds to the composite message of these four little God-story books.

Here Jesus has a tenderness of human sympathy with us men, for He and we are brothers.  There’s an outlook as broad as the race.  No national boundaries limit its reach.  No sectional prejudices warp or shut Him off from sympathetic touch with any.  He shares our common life.  He knows our human temptations, and knows them with a reality that is painful, and with an intensity that wets His brow and shuts His jaw hard.

This king who serves is a man.  He can be a king of men for He is a man.  He has the first qualification.  I might use an old-fashioned word in the first old-time meaning,—­He is a fellow, one who shares the bed and bread of our common experience.  And so He is kin to us, both in lineage and in experience, in blood and in spirit.