Who is this man?

Who is this man going from town to town,
Rebuking religious elite, not giving an inch of ground?
With great authority his voice carries on the wind,
And he claims even the right to forgive men their sins!

Who is this man to whom the wretched flock,
Imploring hands extended as though he were their rock?
From whence the compassion shining in his eyes,
And the strength of spirit as he gazes to the skies?

Who is this man laying his hands upon the lame,
Healing high and low alike and treating everyone the same?
He walks among the penniless and the well-to-do,
Their need for a Savior binding them like glue.

Who is this man that winds and sea should obey his voice,
Submitting in a moment as though they had no choice?
With awe in their hearts the men looked all around;
Those who had been certain that they were to be drowned.

Who is this man now exhausted at the end of day,
Yet scorning needed sleep to bow his head and pray?
Entire nights spent in isolation, though never truly alone,
For his spirit knelt before his Father's lovely throne.

Who is this man whose tortured body drips with precious blood,
Whose load becomes so heavy he falls into the mud?
Nails pierced his hands and then they pierced his feet;
And it seemed at the end his mission spelled defeat.

Who is this man who rose triumphant from his tomb,
Treating death with contempt and rising from its gloom?
He ascended up to Heaven, to his Father above,
After having accomplished the greatest act of love.

So who is this man and why should we care,
With so much to do and many loads to bear?
Truly there is no way to quantify his worth;
For his name is Jesus Christ, the Savior of the earth!