I'm late, a date
Thoughts wander as the car thunders by
I'm engulfed in the crowd, moved forward and side
My feet search for footing,
Mothers push aluminum strollers
Baby smiles, drooling, drooling
I'm in, grab my pack, on my back
Stand facing the deadpan crowd,
Sway to the time
To the time of the clanking roll, the clanking roll of the L train
Crosstown
I get off quick, no time to lose,
Got to get to where I'm going, no time to lose,
Walk swiftly to the A train
Uptown
Reach the platform, look round,
No aggressive mother's here with their strollers of drool
The train's in sight, rat runs for cover,
I watch and wonder
As the train comes in sight,
Passing with a thunderous roar
Hair blows from hot hot air
Of the A train,
Uptown
Get on, next stop, a spot
I move with ease into the seat,
Looking and feeling like I'm on the soul train,
My whiteness blinds the folks next to me with their rich mocha skin,
I glow in the dark, I'll show you, an easy trick you'll see
The A train's for me, as it rattles and rolls,
Uptown
I get bumped, drop my book, look down and swear
"Jesus"
sit up,
two eyes of watery reflective brown, turn and stare into mine
What? He replies.
What do you mean, What? I think, I swore, sorry,
Jesus.
What?
Oh lord, oh man, oh for the love of,
There he was, sweet jesus, there he was, sweet jesus,
Jesus,
On the Soulful A train, Uptown
His face calm and dark,
Sweet Jesus was no white man,
Jesus, my man, was black,
A man of patience and love
With soulful, piercing eyes, staring into mine
His hair was short and spiral topped
His demeanor calm, so calm in the clamor of the train,
I began to lull, my breathing slowed,
the clatter of the train resembles a stroller rocking in time, lulling me away
on the A train Uptown
"Sweet Jesus" I whisper,
What? He replies,
I stumble for appropriate words
Jesus, the prophet of the ages is on the train
Looking and listening to the ways of our age
He seems amiss and somewhat distraught, he watches and sways, bouncing and nodding in time to the train,
What happened, he said.
What?
What happened?
To what, to what, I wonder, I wonder
What happened, he said,
To my message?
To my message of love and of giving,
To my message of forgiving and learning
Did I say all this?
What has become of my message
What has become of my message
I did not say the kingdom was far
I said the kingdom was here within,
Not in some heaven in the sweet by and by
What happened? He said,
His eyes searched the car for answers,
None came
You know they said I would come back
I did, you see.
I saw:
Sweet Jesus was the man
On the A train
Uptown
What happened?
Don't know, I reply
Been confused myself, sweet Jesus
I reply
Why?
Why.
Lots said, I reply
So I've learned he replied
Work for justice he whispers,
Work and you shall find the kingdom within
Work and be righteous and in peace
Work and you shall find
Me
Be fair, be love, be kind
Work and you shall find the kingdom within
A train Uptown,
My stop, pause,
Got to go, got to go, I'm late, a date
Doors open
He smiles
Work for justice he whispers,
Tell your message, I reply
Doors close
Grab my pack, on my back
Sweet Jesus is a black man on the A train
Uptown
I wrote this poem one night 15 years ago, on a cold December evening, after having spent a rigorous afternoon culling through the essentials of not only the historical Jesus - but what Jesus' essential message was in a New Testament class. I went to a lefty Christian seminary, and this was what I was after with Jesus. I had grown up Unitarian Universalist, and he wasn't mentioned much, except occasionally at Christmas and Easter.
This exercise in deconstruction was helpful and enlightening. As many scholars point out, the great spiritual masters each had a central theme of their teachings. For Lau-Tzu it begins with a vision of the universe as a holistic force-the yin and yang. For Buddha, it "begins with the mind, he shows us, with infinite compassion, how to see through our neurosis." For Jesus, it begins with the kingdom of God found in the heart. Stephen Mitchell in his book, The Gospel According to Jesus, comments, "His teachings have such a deep moral resonance. In this he is prototypically Jewish. What is required of us is to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God."
To really get at whom Jesus represents, I should have written the poem with Jesus not just black but disabled, gay, illegitimate, old and female. For this is what the crux of his message was about. He believed "the least of these is the greatest of these." He saw himself as a full part of humanity, as connected to all people, as incapable of escaping the tugs of the interdependent web. Everyone was his brother and sister, mother, father. Everyone was part of him. When asked by a student what the most important Commandment was, he said, basically I've got to call it a tie: To love your lord your God with all your heart, and to love your neighbor as yourself.
Pretty simple. Pretty straightforward. Pretty clear. His was a theology of deep, universal love, so much so that his vision of the kingdom of God could only be brought forth in the here and now. He was talking about us being capable of living in the kingdom of God, if we led with our love. If we loved mercy - which is what? - deep compassion, and the easing of others distress and pain. He was talking about making the kingdom of God a reality, through our living and loving. He anchored his hope in the human power to share, give, express and practice love.
But his version of love, was not just to pray for love or to believe in love for your enemy, it was to live it. He would have jumped for joy I think had he known of the African proverb: When we pray, we move our feet. His was an active theology in how he lived, whom he loved and how he embraced humanity as his own. If you lived according to this message, somewhere, somehow the idea of radical sharing would rear its head.
Which brings me full circle. In a week, we celebrate the date set aside to acknowledge the birth of this wondrous, unconventional life. Today, we are acting out what his message was about. What he was after. He was after radical sharing, he was after seeing others in the world as your brother and sister - their needs being your needs. He was after a deep commitment to love in action. And that my friends, is how we honor him this holiday season. By making his idea of the love of humanity real, by taking mercy and putting it into action. By knowing deep in the marrow of our bones, all people are our people, and thus, our love for them is as for our own brother or sister, our commitment to their wellbeing is as if to our own brother and sister.
This is not a sweet little act we have done this day, contributing to the greater good. It is a statement of faith, of love, of compassion, or radical sharing.
Daniel Berrigan is a Jesuit priest whose life's work has been to live and love this message of Jesus, and his words on hope, get at our act this day.
"Sometime in your life, hope that you might see one starved man, the look on his face when the bread finally arrives. Hope that you might have baked it or bought it or even needed it for yourself, for that look on his face, for your hands meeting his across a piece of bread, you might be willing to lose a lot, or suffer a lot, or die a little even."
This gets to why we put those red envelopes collectively into the basket. It speaks to a radical message, a radical sharing, a radical commitment together in the company of each other, to reach beyond ourselves - to respond to our brothers and sisters on this little blue spinning ball we call earth.
The Ethiopians have a saying: When spider webs unite they can entangle a lion. We took the first steps this day, to entangle some lions. And the greater good, the greater humanity, is smiling - nah - not just smiling, but feeling, captured in our collective entanglement. We did good, my friends, with this first step-together - in the company of shared faith, service and humanity - we did good.
Blessed Be. Amen.
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