Nobody Wants Jesus
I wrote this at Easter time a couple of years ago. I still like some of it, but I now wish to rewrite it.
Nobody wants Jesus
Nobody wants Jesus to come.
Oh, we all say we do.
But we mean the Jesus
who looks like us,
who talks like us,
who carries our very own prejudices
in his heart.
We don’t want the Jesus
Who, like His brother Thomas,
plunges His finger
into gaping wounds,
the ones in our sides.
That Jesus
asks too much.
We don’t want the Jesus
Who has looked
into the eyes
of the wild God,
The Holy Mystery,
Who screams,” Love!”
from every rooftop.
We don’t want the Jesus
Who didn’t care for empty piety,
Who desired more than sacrifice,
Who commanded mercy,
Who prayed for enemies,
Who loved the outcast–
The Beloved, enfleshed.
With followers
like us,
it’s a wonder
He ever had to flee to the desert
for solitude.
