Jesus in America Pt. 3

Easter Sunday 2017.

The Big Enchilada. The Liftoff. The Rising. 

No Jesus in America sighting yesterday. Which makes sense, the Harrowing of Hell don't you know?!

There's the Olde Tradition. The Old Myths. The Legends. The Fables. The Lies. The Metaphors. The Cheap Poetic License. Jesus in America is a different kettle of fish all together. Jesus in America is a Lone Wolf: No Apostles. No Acolytes. No Followers. No Community.

Everyone here is on the Wheel. Chasing after the Golden Calf.  Gold. The Do Re Mi. The Big Score. Money, Money & Money. No room for Wild-Ass Prophets.

So yes, Jesus may have a smart phone, (see previous post), but really he has no one to call. Maybe he's miming, pretending to be in conversation? Lost in his own head. Kind of makes a sort of sense.

Jesus in America is street-hardened. A street-level person. He is rugged, ragged, burnt around the edges. He is a bit wild, untamed, unkempt, scary, dangerous. Unpredictable. He doesn't know his place. Or maybe it's just his place is on the street, with the noise, the garbage, the jet-trash, the piss, the shit, the pus, the old condoms, the plastic wrappers, the blood, semen, sweat, spit.

Not sure any Dogma can contain him. No Commandments can command him. No Denomination can explain him. He is there and then he's gone. Jesus in America.