“If you don't find God in the next person you meet, it is a waste of time looking for him further.”

 -Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948)

He was not born to be king, not born to be God,

Not born to be a saint and not born to be “odd”,

He was just a humble Man, a Jew.

He was mild and meek mannered, gentle as a dove,

He wanted to teach mankind the meaning of love,

For the meaning of love He knew.

What’s the price of love? Thirty pieces of silver,

Greasing the palms of a close, well beloved traitor?

Love seems just like an albatross

Tied around the neck, ready to choke you, to kill.

When you love, you love. Be ready to pay the bill.

He died. A Jew nailed to the cross.

Did He go up to heaven? Sits by the side of God?

Sceptre in the one hand and in the other the Rod?

Fact? Or a legend with a gloss?

Blood covered the cross, through palms and feet went the nail,

That’s what the world was told, what’s described in the tale;

He died. A Jew nailed to the cross.

Whom do we cry for in His fate? The Jew? The Man?

Was there a Divine will? Was there a Divine plan?

Did He save mankind on the cross?

Is the world cleansed of sin? Are we better today?

Do we know what is right? Do we follow His way?

Is religion a double-cross?

Two thousand years had passed; the world’s no better place,

All the ugliness Jewish blood could not erase.

Did He die in vain on the cross?

Spilled blood soils the Earth; God’s face must be turned away.

Curse sits on Man’s soul; we stumbled and lost our way,

Lost in a deep slumber, in doss.

Two thousand years on He is on trial once more,

In camps like Auschwitz was He victim or saviour?

Mass graves are now covered with moss…

Lest we forget, let us now uncover the graves,

Let us look again at the shaven headed slaves,

All “filthy” Jews… nailed to the cross…

All the cruel deeds of the past cannot be undone,

Only love can save our souls, not the blazing gun.

Carnage God would never applaud.

Maybe I am stupid, I cannot understand

Why “holy” men fight “holy” wars in “holy” land,

In the most holy name of God.

Remove the nails from His flesh, set the cross on fire,

Forget the crescent moon, the stars; bring out the lyre.

Sing ‘bout love we all understand.

Dispel ignorance; bring God from heaven to Earth,

Let Him walk amongst us, show the way to rebirth,

To bring us peace in all the land.

© P. J. Oszmann (2003)

© Illustration created in Photoshop (2004)