Your Jesus
I’m sorry but I cannot accept your Jesus.
Your Jesus is eternally afraid of things
like movies and sex and naked questions.
You’ve wrapped him in a perpetual robe of
white scripture that’s clearly too tight, and
you never let him walk without chaperones
(commonly referred to as followers).
Your Jesus is an everlastingly entitled,
pedigreed general of class warfare.
Over the years splinter groups have tried to
crucify your Jesus, yet you just keep working your resurrection magic on that shell. But know this – the hope is still alive, that one of these tries the impostor will die, for good. Then the world can watch in wonder at the one who spins the leaves like a million chimes, and sings a much quieter song.
crucify your Jesus, yet you just keep working your resurrection magic on that shell. But know this – the hope is still alive, that one of these tries the impostor will die, for good. Then the world can watch in wonder at the one who spins the leaves like a million chimes, and sings a much quieter song.
“who spins the leaves like a million chimes…”
Glory.
Ann, thank you.
Thank you.
Hi, Susie. Thanks for reading.
Oh how I like your poems! Finding them was a rare and startling discovery. Wish they were in a book.
MJ, I’m glad you found your way here too. May I ask how you did?
Good gracious. Soaking in these words. Soul balm.
“Good gracious” – that made me smile. Thank you.
Oh. I needed that reminder. That’s an infusion of fresh hope. It smells like scrubbed air after the rain.
Kelly, I’m glad the words had a smell to them. Thanks!
I know this Jesus, the one singing quieter songs, and he sings to me through your words. Thank you for this.
Kimberly, it means a great deal you took the time to comment. Thank you.
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom, then walked the night alone
Led Zep the battle of evermore
John you remind me of john paul jones of zep
Hey, Mike. Good to hear from you. Ah, the old Zep…
Oh, the One Who sings the quieter song. This is my Jesus. The accepting Jesus, the One Who Loves, the One Who lives outside our scrunched up human boxes of exclusion and finger pointing. The One Who welcomes, and smiles, and beckons with grace and mercy and open arms.
Thanks, John.
Thanks, Susan!
BLASE —
I almost called you this morning when I saw this piece. You are shouting from your rooftop the things that are only said in whispers.
But I did not want to interrupt whatever is in your days and moments and thoughts and feelings and poetry that is living on some tip of the pen within you just now. All of which is so sweetly and powerfully and astonishingly and beautifully present. If you ever come up for air, be in touch. In the time between now and then, know your name is muttered up in gratitude and joy each day. I will be glad to hear from you, gladder still if it turns out that you never come up for air. Keep punching holes in the darkness, my friend.
NAMASTE —
R. Benson
>
I’ll be in touch soon, Robert. Until then, thank you, my friend.
lovely, thanks for sharing!
Thanks, Brett.
Holy crap, John!!! OUT OF THE BALLPARK. Thank you so much for this powerful, beautiful piece of soul-searching art, art that tells the truth we need to hang onto.
Diana, that you would take the time to read and comment in a post-op state speaks volumes – thank you very much!
Yours is a beautiful voice crying in the wilderness… I love to listen to it. Thank you, thank you!!
Gwen, sometimes it does feel like the wilderness. Thanks for your comment.
I love reading your poetry. The image of the emptiness of the shell and the fullness of a “million chimes” comforts me.
Thank you, Dotti!
Whoa. Oh, goodness gracious alive. You’ve made my head spin in the best of ways with this, John. What vulnerable, powerful art. Oh yes, one of these tries… “the world can watch in wonder at the one who spins the leaves like a million chimes.” Keep writing religion-shattering truth, friend.
Hi, Nacole. Yes, one of these tries…
so good.
Beth, thank you very much!
A poem from a follower of the Jesus revealed in the Bible. To a believer of a Jesus concealed by biblicism. Revealing and full of hope for the one who struggles with religion. Thank you for your encouragement.
Exactly.
[…] Your Jesus by John Blase […]
Hi Blaze. I am new to your blog. Perhaps I am one of those who “struggles with religion” but this poem frankly confuses me. I am assuming you are referring to the Jesus of the Bible and “Jesus’ chaperones” being Christians?
Just looking for clarification..
Hi. Sure, happy to try and clarify. Yes, I’m referring to the Jesus of the Bible, but the way some interpret him causes me headaches…they diminish who he was/is by trying to fit him into a mold of their liking – make sense?
[…] Your Jesus by John Blase. “I’m sorry but I cannot accept your Jesus. Your Jesus is eternally afraid of things like movies and sex and naked questions.” […]
This is beautiful! May I reblog?
By all means, Emma. Thank you!
Reblogged this on More Than Just Words and commented:
This is an awesome poem I came across about who Jesus is (or isn’t). Have a read and explore this blog because it’s kind of nifty.
[…] Your Jesus, a poem by John Blase. “I’m sorry but I cannot accept your Jesus. / Your Jesus is eternally afraid of things / like movies and sex and naked questions.” […]
PLEASE tell me there is a book I can purchase—your writing, ohhhhhh your writing–such a gift!!
Hi, Carol. Thank you! Not a book of poetry yet, but hopefully soon. I’ve got a couple of non-fiction titles – Touching Wonder (Advent/Christmas) and Know When To Hold ‘Em (fatherhood/parenting).
[…] Your Jesus (The Beautiful Due) […]