Brian Miller of WaystationOne has agreed, once again, to host a Sacred Sunday post. For more of his work please be sure to visit his blog HERE. Thank you, Brian, for another outstanding contribution.
i met Jesus in a monastery in the mountains, across the river from pittsburgh.
He was bronze, in the foyer and when the sun shone just right through the doors, His glory would be blinding. if you were looking.
in the stairwell he stood, in monk garb, finger raised as if he had some wisdom to impart. one for the road, if you were heading out.
down the hall, on the way to the dorms, he hung on a black cross his feet resting on a bleached, macabre skull. rather gothic if you ask me.
outside the window of my room, on the brick wall, He was painted in brilliant color, radiance pouring off his head like feathers on a native american indian.
at night, i would stroll the grounds, in the garden by where He stood encased in concrete, and watch the hookers ply their trade on the corner.
i imagined Him sitting on the park bench, litter fluttering in the breeze created by cars driving by, talking with them, instead of being safe behind the wrought iron fence that kept them out. His hands a lot dirtier than these pristine portrayals.
i found Jesus on a mountain in pittsburgh. He is alive and well, and wants to know if you will come out and play.