He was God. It was He who spoke things into being, that creative span of time. Only through Him could anything come into being. All life was in Him, and this life was man’s light. It is He who came into our midst, shining in the darkness that could neither take Him in nor hold Him down from shining out. Every now and then as he writes John’s heart seems near the breaking point, and a sob shakes his pen a bit, as it comes over him all anew, and almost overcomes him, how this wondrous Jesus, this throbbing