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

“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

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.