Pauca Verba is Latin for A Few Words.

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Jesus Christ ~ King of the Universe


Hieronymous Bosch 1495 ~ The Mockery of Christ

The world feels very sick these days. Perhaps it has always been so but our vast media access lays it out for us graphically in 24-7 news cycles. The 15th century painter, Hieronymous Bosch, understood the world's sickness. Look carefully.

The fellow on the upper left who holds the mocking thorn-crown over the head of Jesus: is that an arrow through his hat? Maybe arrows are his weapon of choice. He wears metal gloves and gauntlets. All armored up, he's a tough guy, (or at least he wants us to think he is.) 


And then on the upper right there's another fellow who's carrying a big stick and wearing a metal breast plate. Maybe this armor symbolizes that he's got to protect himself against the love of Jesus. He leans into Jesus' ear. I imagine his breath is foul as he whispers secrets or threats.

The lascivious old man at the bottom left has placed his dirty hand on the naked knee of Jesus. And the man across from him is poised to rip open the shirt of Jesus, which would be the first exposing of his heart. 

In the passion account Jesus' heart is revealed to the world in layers: first the nakedness, then the words of forgiveness and finally the piercing of his side and the spraying of the world with blood and water from his opened heart.  All of this in a world of daily indignities. 


It is the Feast of Jesus Christ, King of  the Universe ~
Jesus in the Resurrection
loving the trillion, trillion galaxies,
and the little universe of
each human mind,
and the universe of our
blue and green planet-home,
its forests and coral reefs,
the weather, soil and seasons,
the universe of bird song and great mammals,
of insects, leaves and flowers.

And some priests will dress up
in metallic gold today,
and some parishes will
rent a trumpeter
and they'll sing about
crowns and crowns and
the lamb upon the throne.

But maybe
we shouldn't this year
with the plane just exploding
and children falling from the 
sky in flames,
the Sinai strewn
with their beach clothes
and toys.

And the city 
of Saints Genevieve and Denis ~
now a city of bullets and bombs,
of wounds, 
mourning,
and fear.

And what does this mean ~
that Denis is invoked against diabolical possession.
And the banks of flowers and
tea lights - fragile flames of
hope and desire.

And the double bombing of Beirut ~
for its beauty called
the Paris of the Middle East ~
is media-lost in its twin atrocities.

And leaders wonder 
how and who to punish.
And someone somewhere
in a suit and silk tie ponders:
Who will buy
missiles from me?
in the new depth of 
conflict and hate.
And men who hide in the sand
with covered faces
shout ugly praises to God.

How did all of this come about?

And the rhetoric soars:
Who's to be excluded (even young orphans).
And the politicians can't see how to
reconcile with Jesus who said,
"Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them."

And many of our thoughts are
shameful thoughts,
and shameful thoughts
should seldom be expressed, 
or at least carefully expressed,
but surely not for all the world 
to hear on CNN.

Jesus, with the thorn-crown 
hovering over your head,
your mind already crammed with all of
this piercing universe-trouble and grief,
would you give us fresh insight...

(Americans are such talkers, you know,

we can sell anyone anything,
even the Brooklyn Bridge
and how to make a deal.)

But would you teach us
how to sell peace,
how to sell reconciliation,
how to sell kindness,
how to sell humility. 

Jesus ~ sell us the Kingdom of God!