It was a holy day and Jesus walked upon the Athens’ beach.
2 A storm was on and ships were being tossed about like toys upon the bosom of the sea.
3 The sailors and the fishermen were going down to watery graves; the shores were strewn with bodies of the dead.
4 And Jesus halted not, but with a mighty power he rescued many a helpless one, oft bringing back to life the seeming dead.
5 Now, on these shores were altars sacred to the gods supposed to rule the seas.
6 And men and women, heedless of the cries of drowning men, were crowding all about these altars, calling on their gods for help.
7 At length the storm was done, and all the sea was calm, and men could think again; and Jesus said,
8 You worshippers of wooden gods, how has the fury of this storm been lessened by your frantic prayers?
9 Where is the strength of these poor, weather-beaten gods with painted swords and crowns?
10 A god that could abide in such a little house could hardly hold a frantic fly, and who could hope that he could hold at bay the Lords of winds and waves?