Jesus Visit: A Tuesday
Rev. O. Kris Widmer
April 26, 2016, version 2
Jesus came to our church today.
“The Church on the Hill”
I almost didn’t recognize Him at first.
In fact, I was not the first to see him.
Our janitor brought Him to my attention
“There is a strange man here, on the far side by the fellowship hall.”
And…it appears it was a bird that brought Him to her attention,
or He may have gone undiscovered.
She heard the bird tapping on the window, and went over to see it.
The bird flew off, but then she saw Him.
Then she came and got me.
I am the one who is given the honor
of greeting Jesus when ever He comes to our church
during weekdays, during the day.
The women who work here -
Secretary and Janitor -
are fearful of what strange personages might do,
and rightly so.
One needs to be careful in these last days.
It is hard for them to bravely go
and see Jesus at first, on account of His many disguises.
I grabbed two candy-bars from the desk bowl,
borrowed my Secretary’s cell phone,
and walked towards where He was said to be.
He was sitting on the sidewalk,
in the deep landscape trench
between the parking lot and the building,
hidden from view,
on the far side of the building.
He was clad in dress pants,
a blue-striped collared shirt and suit coat,
and athletic shoes.
He wore no socks.
The coat sleeve was stained with either blood (his own),
red acrylic paint or berry jam
(I’m still unsure.)
The vent of the coat was stuck to the top of his pants
with either blood or jam
(Again, still unsure.)
He clutched a piece of wood.
It was a short length of one by two,
but was too short
to serve as a useful cane.
He was sitting on the sidewalk,
his legs jutting into the foot-wide gravel border
between the concrete and the building.
He dug at the gravel with the stick.
He faced the stucco, bending towards it
as if it was the wailing wall.
And he was wailing.
You’d wail too, if you possessed the same fresh wounds
I saw upon His bald head. Ouch!
A 2-inch round abrasion on the back of his bald head.
A 2-inch linear abrasion on his Left eyebrow.
I approached Him warily.
Yes…it was Him!
Jesus…in the flesh!
Though He appeared to be a man in his senior years,
He didn’t fool me none!
“I was hurt and disoriented, and you came to me.”
I introduced myself, crouching a couple of feet away.
I asked for His I.D.
He gave me a cell phone.
I asked again for His I.D.
He gave me a wallet with a health card, an ATM card,
and a USA Passport Card.
“Abdul R.” was the name on all three…
and the picture on the Passport was correct.
“Iran” was listed as his country of birth.
The janitor came within ear-shot.
I asked her to call for an ambulance.
I called the church secretary on her own cell phone
and repeated the request.
“Man down. Send Help!”
(Then, the church secretary came to watch me
and watch for the first responders.)
It actually took a second 911 call.
“Yes…it’s a medical emergency.
Blood! Send help immediately.”
I offered him the candy bar. He declined.
I offered him the water bottle my secretary threw to me.
He declined it the first time, but took a sip at the second offer.
Imagine me…offering Jesus some ordinary water!
Such an odd communion service; Kit-Kats and Water.
Then, while we waited, I engaged Jesus
(a.k.a. Abdul) in conversation.
He had a son. (The cell phone confirmed his name.)
He worked construction than morning. (in a suit? at age 82?)
The year he living in… was 1989.
“I’m in Sacramento. No wait. San Francisco. No, wait. I don’t know where I am”
Several times He wanted to walk home.
As He didn’t know where that was,
I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”
Finally, angels arrived, in the form of fire-fighters and EMT’s.
They got him up and onto the gurney and into the rescue vehicle.
Just like Joseph of Aramathea and Nichodemus -
they did what I, His disciple, couldn’t do for Him.
They took Him away
to the hospital
for evaluation and treatment
and reconnection with His home and immediate family.
Get well, Jesus!
I’m glad I could help You in a small way, today.
Humbly I say…You came to the right place.
After all, it is Your church.