may we see him in his coming

And the thing that really cooked people’s noodles wasn’t the question “is Jesus like God” it was “what if God is like Jesus”.  What if God is not who we thought?  What if the most reliable way to know God is not through religion, not through a reward and punishment program, but through a person. What if the most reliable way to know God is to look at how God chose to reveal God’s self in Jesus? 

Nadia Bolz-Weber

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I wonder if we could pick Jesus out of a crowd

If he were wandering around today

Would we have a clue it was him

I met a man once who said he had seen Jesus

He was a homeless wanderer, who showed up on my doorstep

Deep in the wheat country of eastern Washington

Looking for a meal

“I met Jesus once” he said

“We ate beans together at a homeless shelter in New York,

  He is going by the name of ‘lightening amen!”

I don’t find that as far fetched now as I used to

For if we manage to banish

From out well programmed brains

The beautiful, blond, white, sanitized Jesus we were raised with

If we realize that Jesus was a middle eastern Semite

Born in poverty

Raised, mostly likely, in a non-descript middle class neighbor hood

If we remember he hung out with a rough crowd

And was a rebel with a cause

If we can grab hold of the fact that he was

Such a rough looking character that Mary mistook

His resurrected self for the gardener

If we can see him standing there

Soil clinging to his clothes

Dirt under his nails

Hair a rumpled, black, curly mess

Then we know

That the Jesus who shows up is rarely what we expect

And that the God he embodies

Is probably equally rough around the edges

And weird

And unexpected

Weird enough

To love the unlovable

To forgive the unforgiveable

To accept those who are unacceptable

Weird enough to go all the way to cross

To conquer hate an fear

Weird enough to side with the poor not the rich

The vulnerable not the powerful

The outcasts, not the inner elite

And Weird enough to

at the same time

love the rich, powerful, elite

with a love that will not let them go

So here is to the Risen One

Whenever, and wherever he shows up

May we see him in his coming

See him in that 82 year old woman sewing face masks

See him in that young man buying and delivering groceries to his vulnerable neighbor

See him in that low tech livestream from the little church in rural America

See him in the gutters and the ghettos of America

May we see him in his kindness

In his compassion

In his forgiveness

In his generosity

In his love

May we see him

The dirt of the tomb still clinging to his clothes

And with dirt under his nails

May we see him

Not as we expect to see him

But as he really is