Orange County Jesus (OCJ)

4/24/21

This poem about some of the things I’ve been observing within Christian subculture in Orange County. It addresses materialism and superficiality as a whole. It’s not meant to target any persons in particular, only to bring awareness to cultural overindulgence and spiritual apathy.

 

Orange County Jesus

Is Christians pretending

In a land that thirsts for the real.

If we could only see past

Sparkling Crest smiles

To eyes of despair

Hidden behind Gucci sunglasses

That hide the Son’s stare,

We might be able to stand in one another’s shoes

And dance into the heavenly courtyard

That calls our name

And reminds us why we came.

Quite possibly the proof the skeptic seeks

Is the reason we find ourselves so weak.

One provincial cries,

“Relentless humility

Is the salt in the wound of depravity.”

And a poor beggar with the heart of a poet sighs,

“The sage who aptly answers the

Riddle of pleasure and pain

Untangles a heavy heart to keep sane.”

Entitled,

We demand Starbucks with Karenesque perfection.

We fraternize on Facebook yet avoid those in our direction.

We drive faster to get away from the very thing that calls us.

Skinny jeans

And hipster tattoos

Are our latest fling,

Not to mention faux hawks

And Stance Socks,

Marketing self-brands

And “selfies” on Instagram,

Fictitious eyes

And no tan-lines,

Bigger breasts

And smaller waist-lines,

More money

But less family time,

Luxurious SUVs

And gas-guzzling Sprinters,

But the homeless sleep with the fumes.

Where are God’s “called out” ones?

Why can’t we see the plastic grins pasted on each other’s faces?

Wake up!

The world is watching

And they’re not seeing much passion from a chosen bride with frozen graces.

Where’s the voluptuous virgin in her white wedding dress?

Do we please the One who asked our hand to become one?

Or have we flirted with materialism

And slept with social Darwinism?

Do we still excite Him?

Or does He yawn,

Observing our mundane tasks of worship?

Will He say “Enough!” and postpone the engagement?

I believe Him to be a romantic

And too much a gentleman

To leave His fiancé at the altar.

His promise is all we have;

It’s all we need;

It’s what feeds us through the week.

A thin thread of grace is what binds us,

Holding us together in a Jewish-tailored skirt.

And a legacy of love is the dance He shows us—

When we didn’t care so much to learn.

020603/040721

2 Comments
Newest
Oldest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Zach
Zach
3 years ago

Great post

11/5/24

Kernels of gold sowed in sweat. Embodied husks designed to protect. Multicolored grain, a heavenly harvest. The plague in the Garden— one locust started— the Reaper ransoms to forget.   A rotted ear only hears the screams of its own dissection, an eternity of introspection. Rows of corn restless with guilt. The cup of wrath…

Read More »

10/18/24

Christmas for Ginny has always been the most important day of the year. It’s a magical day when anything is possible, like the unprecedented miracle of God taking on human form; it’s when a supernatural star led the Magi to the infant God-man, lying helplessly in a symbolic feeding trough; and it’s when men met God face-to-Face in a humble manger to worship him and feed from him. Ginny loves Christmas for both its majestic beauty and historical truth. She understands, however, that this sacred day has been tainted with folklore and commercialism, but experience and wisdom enable her to see these gilded traditions as a way to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane. For Ginny, a gift for someone special on Christmas is a reminder of the greatest Gift ever given. So naturally Ginny wants to give Brad something special for Christmas. But she, too, finds herself without two pennies to rub together. Then, suddenly, an idea flashes across her mind that makes her eyes water, feeling the internal warmth that comes with giving wholeheartedly.

Read More »

10/17/24

Ten years ago, my parents, Robert and Sheila, were killed in a car accident on Christmas Day. A head on collision with a drunk driver took them away from me. It turned out that both front airbags were defective. They were coming back from looking at Christmas lights. My seven-year-old daughter was in the back seat. She was not wearing her seatbelt. She was thrown from the wreckage. She died instantly.

Read More »

Newsletter Signup