Middle England Jesus
If Jesus were born in England
He’d be I think lower middle class
Beloved of grass roots politicians
But still some crisp sophistication
And know when to use a white wine glass
He wouldn’t splatter ketchup across his mile high tea
He’d know to break, then butter bread
And when to fork or mash a pea
He’d not make one uncomfortable faux pas
But speak messages of love and good news
To all who’d afford Him their privilege
And sit in corporate pews.
He’d be a dream for marketers, like Persil – not a cheap, crass brand
Emblazoned features on tube walls displayed
And a gung ho presence just like Bob Geldof
But with clothes more white and less frayed
But here’s the thing – I’ve marvelled at God’s great love for me
Preferring not to hear His heart call all men to be free!
He celebrates our quirkiness and knows who smells the worst
But wants to hug them nonetheless and help their shells to burst
So waifs and strays and low lifes – the phrases that I’ve used
In sweeping streams of banter
Never once thought of as abuse
Now I’ll stop and look at Jesus and a body ripped to shreds
For those considered worthless
And I’ll kiss their scruffy children’s heads.
This poem was written and shared by Sally Eveleigh on the ‘Prepare, Feed, Sustain’ Course out of Bristol Baptist College held at Exeter in July 2018.