Showing posts with label jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jesus. Show all posts

Thursday, April 5, 2012

The air which you breathe/ At last I breathe.’ If Christ came to Cambridge. What would you do?

by  Dr. Jeffrey Lant
We know now that history is a tricky business, that it is easy to forget times and dates and confuse and muddle what actually happened. Suzy tells everyone she must have been the first person he spoke to, but Suzy is an unreliable source… and besides was a confirmed addict who often disappeared into her own world where she heard voices and saw people who didn’t really exist but frightened her anyway….  still when she tells this story she gets a far away look in her eyes… and she looks younger, calmer and she’s almost beautiful again. What drug, I wondered, has that quality?
Here’s what we do know.
One day the man who called himself Jesus wasn’t here in Harvard Square…. then the next day he was. That isn’t unusual. When the first mild spring days arrive run-aways, addicts, the homeless and down and out spread out from the Pit at the main subway entrance, in the stretch along Massachusetts Avenue from the Coop to the bus stop at the corner of Mass and Garden St. It’s all hospitable territory for the panhandling down-and-out. That’s why no one took much notice of Jesus; he was just another loser blown in, to stay for a while, then go on his tangled way.
Still, the man wasn’t what we usually saw hereabouts.  He didn’t seem to be strung out on drugs, wasn’t up to snuff on where to find drugs, which drugs you could mix to intensify the high… and which ones you must never mix if you want to wake up again. He didn’t talk to you or even seem to listen to the conversations about where to find drugs, who had them, who you needed to conciliate, who was a good guy and who wasn’t.
But then there was that incident with Ben…
Ben was Suzie’s… what? Lover? Boy toy? Child? One minute you’d see Ben up and pan handling; the next moment his head would be in Suzie’s lap, a pieta’ not quite blocking the way into the CVS store. she coddled him, held him, tolerated his infidelities. One day, and it must have been the first such day, Ben started vomiting, screaming, moaning. Suzie was hysterical. She kept saying “Help us! Help us! Help us!” But no one wanted to hear, much less help…
… except Jesus.
And as it happened, I saw the entire episode myself. Jesus appeared as if from nowhere. But it was his eyes which were so arresting. His eyes… and his hands. He looked first at Suzie; she stopped screaming. I can tell you that Jesus didn’t say a single word… then he placed his hands on Ben’s head, as if to comfort and reassure. First Ben stopped moaning… then he sat up and smiled, “Thanks, man,” he said. “I’m better now.” With his hands still on Ben’s head, Jesus said these words, his eyes were infinite and kind:
“Don’t think about tomorrow. Think about today for tomorrow will take care of itself. Remember, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”
“Cool”, said Ben.
I thought, he’s one of these new street healers popping up in the Square. But they always ask for something; Jesus didn’t. Maybe there’s some kind of free offer.
I didn’t see Jesus again for a few weeks. that, too, was completely normal. I was immersed in my business…until one springtime Sunday in the late afternoon I saw about 40 people gathered around the Lincoln Memorial. Jesus was standing on one of the concrete benches. He hadn’t yet started to speak.
It was a lovely afternoon and the people were happy and, at the margins, a bit obstreperous and boisterous, too. Drugs of course, or liquor.
Raising his hands in an embracing gesture, arms outstretched, palms up, he commenced, without welcoming word or introduction. It was almost a chant, simple, moving; I reached into my pocket for my pen and found not paper but a used napkin for my notes:
“The poor in spirit are blessed.The kingdom of heaven is theirs.”
There was no commentary, no explanation, just one declarative sentence like this after another, the words delivered softly, his voice never raised.
“Are you mourning for someone you loved? You shall be comforted.
Are you meek of temperament? Then you’ll be blessed. You shall inherit the earth
Are you merciful? Then you are blessed, for you will get mercy.
Are you working hard to find the righteous way? You will get what you seek.”
As a public speaker myself, I was fascinated by his delivery.The words were simple, the delivery free of artifice even emphasis. Nothing seemed radical or revolutionary about Jesus… but nothing seemed very important about him either.  However, in retrospect two items do stand out. First, as the obstreperous part of the crowd grew even more restive, he simply looked at them with his fathomless eyes. He bid them to come forward… and after being asked again by Jesus and coaxed by the crowd, some did. And I do not think I am wrong in saying that there was a touch of fire and heightened tone in what he said:
“You will be blessed when men shall attack and prosecute you. You will be even more blessed when men shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”
This was the first time anyone had heard Jesus say such a thing for the words  “for my sake” clearly indicated he saw himself as a person of consequence. Most people in the crowd missed this. But I didn’t.
At just that moment, Ben ran into the Common and shouted, “Jesus, your friend Lazarus has died and his sisters are upset. Can you come at once?”
“Are you sure he is dead?”, he said. “Oh, yes,” said Ben. And so Jesus walked to Huron Avenue… and into history. I don’t have to remember what happened next;  it’s all over the Internet… Jesus’ arrival at Lazarus’; the determination he was dead… and the call he made to Lazarus to get up, get up and walk… even the awe of the crowd when he did, changing the life of everyone there and the people worldwide who were willing to trust what they saw.
For the moment these video clips went online and viral, the whole thing became a zoo… these reaffirming what they saw and advocating for him…. those proclaiming their acute disbelief in what could only be a hoax.
To help sort out the matter, Jesus accepted an invitation from Rush  Limbaugh; in retrospect a terrible mistake for Limbaugh lacerated Jesus up and down, calling him a fake, an impostor, a charlatan, out for money, a man who lied, scammed, and deceived.
Jesus didn’t retaliate, didn’t raise his voice, and simply said, “Blessed are the pure in heart; for they will see God.” And as Limbaugh continued his stream of unending venom, rousing his listeners to hate and frenzy, a man named Judas who lived near the studio grabbed his gun. He shot Jesus three times as he walked out the door. In terrible pain, he said just before he died, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”
But now we do. Starting with Judas, who immediately shot himself mingling the blood of ignominy with the most precious blood on earth.
Note: The title for this article comes from a sublime 1770 aria by C.W. von Gluck entitled “Of my sweet ardor” (O del mio dolce ardor). Go now to any search engine and play it. “I seek you, I call you, I hope, and I sigh.” It will comfort you.
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