A Man Named Atlas and a Man Named Jesus

There was once a man named Atlas. He held up the sky. He kept it from crashing into the earth. Some say it was his punishment, his life sentence. Some say he choose it, this responsibility to hold up the sky.

There was once a man who walked this earth and he was named Jesus of Nazareth. He took on the weight of the whole world and died for it. He was nailed to a cross and left to hang until He died. It wasn’t His punishment. He had done no wrong. Jesus on the cross was His sacrifice. 


The stories of these two men sound like an echo of each other. And depending on who you ask one is myth and one was a living breathing man. Tho they do have distinct ending unlike the other. 


Atlas is sometimes portrayed as the one chosen to hold up the sky and Jesus is sometime referred to as simply another prophet. 


I’d like to think that they were both more than that. I think Atlas is an interesting and very human way of trying to explain the world. Even if I believe him to be no more than a myth I find him fascinating. Even if I don’t believe in him, I think stories are always more than just stories. 


I think Jesus of Nazareth was more than just a man. But in the event that I’m wrong the story that was His life is still more than just a confusing story. It is the truth of how we all ought to treat one another. 


I think you can experience a story and still have no understanding of how amazing this life truly is. A story is just words on a page, or so I’ve been told, but I think it’s so much more than that. It’s the truth we tell when no-one is listening. It’s the courage we have when no-one is looking. It is the very beating of our hearts even when no-one dears to care. A story is a life. And it is a life that will always mean more than we can ever understand. 

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