Jesus in the brothel

It was early Sunday morning
Streets were lined with fervent faithfuls
I was glad to be a part of this ‘great’ crowd
As I walked to our ‘holy grounds’

I clutched my well-worn bible
That I’d read from cover to cover
And was sated at the very thought
That I knew its every precept

Then it was time to pass that dark place
Where prostitutes and con men mingled
Ah, the dark path that I had to take
To get to church on Sunday!

So I raised my nose to walk by
In 'holy' indignant anger
Past the shady den of devious men
And wenches of easy virtue!

As I walked by on that Sunday
I looked by chance into the brothel
And there, right there with its motley crew
Stood a witty well-tanned Jew


With nail-scarred hands he gestured
With smiles he oiled strong truths
And the brothel madam found her place
Right by his bronze-like feet

I stopped in shock and wonder
To stare in disbelief
For was this some tricky genie
Was that the man of Galilee?

In an hour it was over
They were changed inside – forever
And though they wore the garb of sinful men
 They were really now God’s children

Then to me he called out warmly
With a voice of many waters
Then the smile died from his fiery eyes
And I squirmed like a baited mice

I know thy works, he thundered
How you sit with men and judge
Yet with your little finger, nay
You never help another’s day

They that are whole need no physician
For these lost ones I have come
And if you truly had my father’s heart
What a great lover you’d become!

But scripture verses you’re content to spit
While detached from day-to-day reality
For time is short; your life must speak
And I am coming, really quick!

So lay to rest your petty fights
Of who is best, or more scripture versed
The fields are ready and time is short
And only the pure will hear my call

And so I woke up and twas all a dream
The bell rang, announcing the start of Sunday service
I picked up my bible and put on my robe
And off, away to the brothel, I rode…