Posted on 15 December 2008 by David Phillips

My Jesus
Bothered
not by man’s anxiety
but by his brokenness
Passionate
not letting his emotions drive him
but still loving us with all his heart
Human
not only was his body exhausted
but he wanted us to identify with him.
That is my Jesus.
Holy
true that sin did not taint him
but he still muddied his hands with mine
Divine
true that he was God
but he stooped to man’s level
Light
the one who created light is the light
but calls us to let ours shine
That is my Jesus
Posted on 26 November 2007 by David Phillips
“Parable of a Father” by Janusz St. Pasierb (Polish priest and art historian)
When you try to forget
he remembers
when you cannot fall asleep
he waits for you to wake
when you do not think of returning
he is on the watch for you
when you cannot see the way out
he opens the gates
when you are dying of hunger
he has the table set for you
when you huddle in rags
he chooses a robe for you
when you say: ‘I will rise and go’
he sets out to meet you
when you rub your eyes, as dry as stones,
he weeps over you
when you do not dare to stretch your hand
his arms are around you
when your brother reproaches that you went
away he will reply that you have just come back
Pasierb held the chair of history of art at the Academy of Catholic Theology in Warsaw in the 1980s
Posted on 26 November 2007 by David Phillips
A song by Sydney Carter
Your holy hearsay
is not evidence:
give me the good news
in the present tense.
What happened
nineteen hundred years ago
may not have happened:
how am I to know?
The living truth
is what I long to see:
I cannot lean upon
what used to be.
So shut the Bible up
and show me how
the Christ you talk about
is living now.