My Homeboy Under the Red Light

My Homeboy under the Red Light

“Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you? The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Matthew 25:37-40

Sometimes they come to me,
asking if I personally know Jesus.

I’ve seen him on so many occasions.

Once
I saw him on a tee shirt
where he comforted me,
and told me he was my homeboy.

Once
while down in the Village
I saw him, and he was homeless,
drunk and hungry.
He asked me if I had any change;
he needed a drink.
I asked Jesus if he was hungry,
and I offered him pizza and some company.

Once
I saw Jesus in a Japanese restaurant.
She was eyeing me with seductive smiles,
and sauntered over to me, seeking conversation.
She told me that she could free men.
She asked me if I wanted to know her and be free.
I told her that I was already free,
but still, I would follow her to the place she would lead.
I followed her into a motel room where she would free men.
Since I was not interested in being freed,
Jesus hid me in the bathroom,
while two men,
(with the grunts and euphoria of an altar call),
were freed.

Afterwards, Jesus spoke to me:
“How is it that you see me for who I am,
and not what I do?”

Once
I met Jesus while I was in Amsterdam.
She was stuck in a room, and I saw her,
and there was a Red Light that shone down upon her.
I wanted to ask this rabbi so many questions
about her mission under the Red Lights.
Jesus told me that for 80 Euros she would give me
answers to some of my questions.
So for 80 Euros, I asked Jesus what truth
she had discovered about all men.

And Jesus spoke,
            “I come from another land, where men came to me,
            promising the riches of heaven, if I sacrificed my body
            and bore their sins. So, I sacrificed for men,
            and they ate of my body and drank of my wine,
            swearing that they did it all in remembrance of me.
            And I, willingly, with the promise of a new earth,
            consented to the sacrifice, allowing men to crucify me,
            to scourge me, to revile and love me;
            I make all things new.”

Once
there was a spotting of Jesus, witnessed by a 17 year old boy,
during the worst day of his life. The boy was standing at his locker in Gethsemane,
shaking, holding back the tears and sweat
that fell like blood. When he turned around Jesus locked eyes with him.
The 17 year old boy felt naked and exposed,
and he tried to cover himself. But Jesus,
like all master healers, understood time; he knew this was not the day
for this precious lamb to be slaughtered.
Jesus breathed deeply, placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders,
and spoke, “It’s going to get better, so you must hang in there.”

Once
I saw Jesus, angered by my voice in the wilderness.
I was crying out, (to anyone who would listen), about hope.
Jesus spoke, “This is not the time for hope. Do you not know
that I bring a sword to divide? Do you not see the Dragon?”
And there before my eyes, Jesus showed me the dragon creature,
soaring across her back. She spoke again, “Do not tell a soul,
but that Dragon is my savior, for it hides the scars,
given to me from my blessed mother and her hot, anointing oil.”

Frequently,
when I pass by mirrors, I see Jesus.
He has much or little to say. He looks like me and them and they.
At times, he comforts: “You are beautiful.” “I forgive you,
so forgive yourself.” “Be true to you.”
At times, she reminds me: “You are not alone.” “Remember, they hated me first.”
But most of all, Jesus speaks in the way I understand best:
“You are my song of songs, a love poem, so bloom and spread everywhere
and across everyone.”

A student
once asked me if I knew Jesus.
I smiled, then exhaled, “I see you, don’t I?”

 

8/7/2013
msf