What if I told you I was Jesus?
Bradley S. Hartman
What if I told you I was Jesus?
Would I have your trust right from the start?
Or like last time, never realize you messed up?
But what if I were?
Would I like what has become of the world?
Would I smile or shake my head as I felt the cold?
Shivering as your faith believes what religion has sold?
Would I have to prove to you by performing a miracle?
Or would you know by just my word?
What religion would I have to pretend to be?
Before any religious leader started to disregard me?
In a state of wonder, I stand confused,
By the way we seem to pick and choose,
One dreamer we applaud for his guts to stand alone,
While begrudging another for trying to make his dream come true?
What if Jesus was that bum you looked at on the street?
Commenting how the city should do something about him,
So you wouldn’t have to admit you’ve lost your humanity,
Making me wonder if you can afford not to show a little generosity?
Would Jesus go back and say things were fine and well,
Or have to say God’s children have learned only how to create another Hell?
All too busy trying to attain man’s desires,
As religions change the words of God, who they supposedly admire.
What would you say if I said I was Jesus?
And asked why it mattered if I was a certain religion?
Then told you I was just Jesus, the son of God,
Would I find myself on another cross?
If I asked why we don’t encourage individuality,
Would you say, “But we do!” Knowing you just lied to me?
Would you even be aware of what the consequences might be?
As another terminal disease is discovered growing at an alarming speed,
At the same time another senseless war kills the child who could have made it extinct.
Would I approve of the way we talk about humanity?
Then turn away not to do a dang thing we say,
As another family falls to the perils of our society,
The innocent eyes of children asking, “What’s to become of me?”
Would I forgive you for believing in what makes you feel better?
Even if it’s at the cost of your soul being lost forever,
Would you blame the man in the pulpit on Sunday?
Saying how he claimed to be speaking for God,
Even though his words never felt like God’s on each of those days.
So while religions earn funds in the millions,
And their flocks wonder how they’ll feed their children,
I have to ask why it would be so hard to believe I was Jesus,
Since we seem to display a gullibility to believe anything which scares us?
Then with saddened eyes, I look to heaven and ask,
“Is this the way, Father, you would act?”
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This was good
If you told me, YOU were Jesus, I'ld say.. I never asked for any of it. Thank you, but I hope you did it of your own accord. Not for the thanks, but because you love.
great poem. Hope you make this into a Hub. Hopefully you can add the story behind writing this. Would like to read that.
Yolu would be locked up, or laughed at.
You should write a hub instead
I see that you have changed your name again Jesus Sanchez!
Have you managed to get your green card yet?
You have asked a very hard question to answer, specially if you take this question seriously. I don't know how to answer this question, but I can tell; that I believe in Jesus. The son of God.
And if I was so see him on the street, I really don't know.
I like your writing. And the others are write, you should make this into a hub, and then do some more.
It is very interesting, this question you have asked.
It makes you think.
http://wakingupjesus.blogspot.com This is the rough draft of a book I wrote --on-line before publishing, I explore this issue. Nice Poem. Imagining oneself as a deity, and trying to see the world as a GOD might, is an interesting way to define our beliefs. I also did a comedic Jesus on my old radio show. If you want to hear a bit of peace and pipedreams (since canceled) you can check out my site http://theelvesattic.blogspot.com Sorry to self-promote, i would not be doing this if your poem did not strike a deep cord within me. Nice work. I look forward to checking out more of your poetry, as I build a poetry site here.
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