My Jesus: No Apologies
I’d like to tell you about my Jesus. You know, my personal vision of a Messiah. Mine is based on scripture and personal observation. I’m not saying this is THE JESUS. This is MY JESUS.
He’s a really cool guy. He’s not loud mouthed or hot-headed or politically incorrect. He loves people and animals and the earth. He loves Donald Trump. And Bernie Sanders. And Hillary Clinton. And Barak Obama. He loves Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus and Atheists and Agnostics. He loves Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, Greenies and Communists. He loves Mexicans, Canadians, Americans, Russians, Italians, Greeks and Syrians. He loves LGBT and every color of the rainbow. He loves. That what he does.
My Jesus is merciful. He recognizes human weakness and frailty and empathises with human struggle. He doesn’t judge. He forgives. He loves his neighbor as himself. He does unto others as he would have them do to him. He is the author of forgiveness. He desires mercy and not sacrifice. He has forgiven me seventy times seven and then some. Like I said. He’s really cool.
My Jesus is greeeen! He IS a tree hugger, yes he is. The earth was his garden, his refuge was in the places away from the city gates and the crowds. Where did he go when he was so distressed over his pending crucifixion he was sweating blood? That’s right, a garden. And he walked on water, and made references to the lilies of the field, the birds in their nests, the foxes in their holes, the sheep and the wolves. Yes, my Jesus is an environmentalist. Which is why I recycle and grow organic.
My Jesus isn’t much of a capitalist, he’s into more of a sharing economy, not based on cash or making fortunes for some at the cost of others, and here’s why: He knows that the earth provides everything we need to survive. If only we would share more and profiteer less. He understands that real equality is only accomplished when we share the wealth and don’t hoard it. After all, he knows we can’t take it with us, doesn’t he?
My Jesus hangs with common people. He doesn’t hang around resorts with important people playing golf and talking stocks. He’s in the fields with the migrant workers. He sits on corners with homeless veterans. He’s in Detroit turning poison water into wine (and organic apple juice for the kids), and he’s in the state buildings where important decisions are being made, advocating for the poor, the homeless, the refugees.
My Jesus speaks through ordinary people. That’s how he answers prayers too.
My Jesus is a health care worker, healing sick people. He isn’t telling them sorry your leprosy is a pre-existing condition so hit the road Mack I don’t cover that. He heals everyone. He supports Universal Health Care. He sees it as a Human Rights issue, not a financial burden, and absolutely not a for profit industry. Yes, my Jesus is a healer. He’s a lot like a male nurse.
My Jesus is a pacifist. He doesn’t like war. He’s been around for that whole Roman Conquest thing right up to present day conflicts. War kind of turns his stomach. He prays for his enemies and for those who despitefully use him. He offers the other cheek. He pours hot coals of love on the bad guy’s heads. Yes, HE IS a pacifist. And I make no apologies for that.
I make no apologies for my Jesus. He is what he is. He’s mine not yours. At my best, I am a reflection of him. At my worst, I’m not. I am made in his image and he is made in mine. He is the best of all that is human in me without any of the worst. He isn’t perfect. Blasphemous I know. But he’s not. He’s prone to anger and fear and frustration. But for noble cause. And so am I. And I make no apologies for that either.
©Ilona Elliott, 2016