Adventures with Jesus in distressing disguise

Yesterday morning proved to be quite an adventure. I was heading to Farmington Hills for a Meeting at the district office. As I came to the one stop light in Sebewaing, I spotted a man holding a cardboard sign with a back pack and paper bag full of clothes on the icy ground next to him. This was, of course, Jesus, though he insisted on being called Kevin. He was a nice talkative fellow, with a closely trimmed beard, a knit hat and rosy sunglasses ready for a ski slope. His sign indicated that he needed a lift to Bay City. I could certainly take him there. He threw his things in the sliding van door and climbed in the passenger side.

He told me his Mom had committed suicide only half a year ago right in front of his eyes and he was still working that out, but his faith was getting him through. His faith helped him out on the road. He figured he'd make it to Bay City alright by the time his bus left. For my part I enjoyed the company (I always love hanging out with Jesus), and felt better about consuming the gassoline to get to bay city for two people rather than one.

When we got into town I took him to Brewtopia. His bus didn't leave until four, so he planed to meander around down town until then. He offered to buy me a drink. "Or," I said, "I could buy you a drink." After all how often do I get a chance to get Jesus a cup of coffee?

That done, we went back out to the van. He went to get his stuff out of the van, and I armed with a short quadshot americano was about to head on my way to my meeting when another man got my attention. Oddly enough this was Jesus too.

He had been talking to the other Jesus - Kevin asking him for some money to get a cup of coffee. Jesus-Kevin told him that he was Jesus too (that he was also in a position of need and that I had bought his cup.) So this new Jesus, his hood drawn tightly around his weathered face, saliva flecked on his lips and coating his teeth asked me for some change. He explained that he had only 29 cents and needed just a little more to get a cup of coffee. I reached in and turned the van back off. "Come on in with me and I'll buy you a cup," I said cheerfully.

"I am having such a fun morning," I told Aaron as he rang me up for Second Jesus' coffee.
"You're being altruistic today," he replied. "And you even get him the premium stuff!"
Of course! What else would I get for my friend Jesus. I love to share the best with my friends. It is a dream of mine, if I ever have the opportunity to find Jesus in the poor working the coffee harvests, to make them the best of the coffee they have produced. They should enjoy it, rather than the café con sangre they are allowed now. Jesus is worth the best!

The Name of Jesus

This week I am experimenting with using Jesus as a mantra. A mantra is a short prayer repeated over and over until it “settles into your soul like a nest (Henri Nouwen’s image).” Nouwen goes on to say,

“The quiet repetition of a single word can help us to descend with the mind into the heart. This repetition has nothing to do with magic. It is not meant to throw a spell on God or to force him into hearing us. On the contrary, a word of sentence repeated frequently can help us to concentrate, to move to the center, to create an inner stillness and thus to listen to the voice of God.”

I’ve chosen “Jesus” as my prayer partly because I am strangely uncomfortable with his name. For some reason speaking it, hearing it, sounds tinny, shallow and devoid of the intimacy I desire and know with him. I hear others say it, or sing it and it sounds flaky. Perhaps I am jealous. I mean do they really have the kind of intimacy with him that I have, that I long for? I like to use pet names for him, like savior, master, lover, or my Jesus. I wish I could call him Josh. “Jesus” just seems so Christiany. I mean it’s not even how his parents would have said his name, Yeshua. I know, I’m pretty messed up. I guess I feel the same way about my wife’s name. It is rare I ever call her Elaine. That is for people who don’t know her as honey, or lover. It sounds funny and uncomfortable coming out of my mouth, like I am angry or something. Though I have also known how hearing your name on loving lips can be a powerful thing.

My experiment began Sunday in service, inviting everyone to focus on his name for a few moments. Then yesterday I prayed Jesus over and over as I walked the labyrinth, all the way into the heart of God and all the way back out to the world. I thought of the song, "Take the name of Jesus with you." I'd have sung it, but I don't know how it goes! Then last night as I went to bed, I counted his name on rosary beads, twice around. On the beads that separate each decade I prayed "Protect us Lord, as we stay awake, watch over us as we sleep, that awake we may keep watch with Christ, and asleep rest in his peace." All in all a great way to fall asleep!

My hope is that in praying Jesus as a mantra, I will become comfortable with his name, and more than that, there will be a sweetness, a fullness divested to it.