Ah Jesus

Jesus, your name means so much to so many, and to each, something different. My longtime friend and mentor Faith often said, “

‘You are the most misunderstood man in human history.’

There is the Jewish Jesus, the Greek Jesus, the Presbyterian Jesus, the Episcopalian Jesus, the Baptist Jesus, the Roman Catholic Jesus, the born-again Jesus, the New Age guru Jesus, the weaponized war-in-your-name Jesus, and the suffering Jesus—the Jesus who died for sinners.

There is the Jesus whose name was as a banner brought into ancient cultures, where Christians told them their songs were pagan, their wisdom heathen, their gods false, their ways erased.

What Jesus are you? Could the real Jesus reveal yourself?

Historically, you were a Jew, perhaps an Essene Jew, a radical, outspoken young man, with a simple message: It is always within you. You did set out to found a new religion in your lifetime; you spoke and lived within Jewish culture and rituals. You did not call yourself a healer. You called all humans the light. In healing, you said their Faith had set them free.

You told each person that their Faith had set them free. You answered the woman’s question Where do you worship? ‘It is now on this mountain or that. It is within your own being.’ You recommended that we come to have joy to the fullest.

I imagine you laughed a lot.

You spoke in simple language, in Aramaic, rich with mysticism, images, and idioms. So much of what you said has been filtered through Western religion, made into mystery, doctrine, and theology. The saying that freed me most was this: " Eat my body and drink my blood," Not as horror or doctrine. But an idiom, an invitation to digest the way you lived. Become one with the source of one’s being. Live from essence and make it yours.

When I think of you, this song comes to mind :

Look what they’ve done to my song, Ma,
Look what they’ve done to my song.
They’ve picked it like a chicken bone,
And now I’m half insane, Ma,
Look what they’ve done to my song.

Ah, Jesus, look what they’ve done with your life, your story. They have created institutions from it, some promising heaven for all, threatening eternal damnation for others who do not obey or conform, waged wars in your name, all depending on who is speaking of you.

You loved and respected women. You saw the kingdom in the joy, spontaneity, and present-moment life of children. You broke the rules. You called out hypocrisy and surface worship. You practiced non-resistance and forgiveness. You continually reminded those around you that they, too, were in Aramaic bar d’alaha -expressions, projections of the divine, as you were.

When your friends asked you how to pray, you began with Our Father, the word Awoon in Aramaic, meaning beloved, love of my life.” No mediators or hierarchy - Direct access to the source of all life and love. One can align and have direct access to, under a tree, beside a rock, near a river, in a church, wherever the heart is open.

At thirty-three, killed- you were too outspoken, too radical, too direct. Some saw that you were special, and others wanted you gone. Even in that cruel death, you stayed at one with the love of your being, releasing all who did this.

And now, in looking more deeply into your Near Eastern life, I see that a woman, Mary Magdalene, loved you deeply, and perhaps you loved her too. She was the first to see you in your etheric body after your death, and your first words were: Mary. I feel your story is not complete when she is seen as a footnote, a sinner, and is instead viewed as a witness and significant companion.

We continue to pray to you, yet do not grasp the message uttered and lived over and over: that we can do likewise, align with our essence, and live in the same power of love and sovereignty in our own lives as you did.

Ah, Jesus, we have not really moved on. Or have we?