I elbow through the crowd–
so many Jesuses gathered from time,
each designed to meet the need
of a particular people, place, prejudice, pain…

Look over there–
pawing over the desserts–
Republican Jesus,
Democrat Jesus,
socialist Jesus,
and liberation Jesus,
all trying to decide–
cheesecake or chocolate mousse?

And vigorously debating beside the baby grand–
wealthy, business-suit Jesus,
dirt-poor, beard-and-sandals Jesus,
black Jesus,
white Jesus,
Asian Jesus
and Mexican Jesus.

Feeling confused, I make my way onto the verandah, where I find:
sword-wielding SuperJesus,
goo-gooing infant Jesus,
gun-toting, ass-kicking Jesus,
flag-waving, U.S.A. Jesus,
leading-the-march-for-peace Jesus
and heading-up-the-crusades Jesus.

"Too much," I mutter,
as I squeeze my way between
the Jesuses of the gospels,
the Jesus of Paul
and the Jesus of Revelation,
wondering if among the crowd
I'll find the true, the original, the real Jesus.

I head back inside,
avoiding the guitar-strumming, "Kum-bah-ya" Jesus,
the Jesus with the magic, disease-zapping wand,
Jesus with the Precious Moments doe-eyes
and the bloody, decapitated Jesus carrying his lamb-head.

Then I see Him standing at the far end of the ballroom.
I recognize Him immediately.
Our eyes meet.
We smile at each other.
We approach each other,
simultaneously stepping away from the crowds of imposters,
until I realize
it's a mirror.

Tonight's keynote address:
Remaking Jesus in Your Own Image.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.