Portland Jesus

"Unrest" is how we characterize these days. A pandemic. An ongoing protest against police brutality. And the thousand myriad interpretations of what is really going on. It's amazing how the 2-3 city blocks which house the protests and destruction by both protesters and law enforcement have been made to look like the whole city is under siege and in flames. But we are Portlanders. We are used to rearranging our commutes around parades, naked bicycle rides, and protests. Living here has taught me just how many good causes there are to champion and how gathering to protest is in itself a healing form of self-expression and community expression.

These last two months have been the most heated protests I remember. More so than Occupy Portland or the anti-Trump gatherings. More so than previous BLM gatherings. And for good reason. My city loves a good protest. And, contrary to the expectations I brought when I moved here, protesters are organized beyond measure. There are folks who show up just to interrupt violence before it happens and folks who come strictly as legal advisors or medics. Other folks take on education or play music. It's not a mob. Mainstream media will show you the fires and the anger, but they'll never show you the care and consideration. The people who create cash accounts for the small businesses damaged. The small businesses who show up to the protest even after their windows are broken. The folks who show up the day after to clean up trash, glass, and tear gas canisters (hint, it's not the police). The folks in vehicles on call to take injured protesters to emergency rooms. The folks who provide instruction and advice on "how much protest" you want to participate in and what to do if things escalate quickly. The folks who stay home and pray and those who show up just to hand out water and snacks. And I wish people who don't live here saw that side of Portland, that side of the protest. It's why I'm not afraid of what is happening "down town".  It's why calling it a "riot" never seems accurate.

I haven't found my role yet. This is something I feel guilty about. But in these last two months I keep trying to imagine Jesus in different places around Portland... in the churches, in the streets, on the police force, in the crowd getting gassed, healing the broken, comforting the family of those killed by police officers. And I know he supported racial outcasts like Samaritans and social outcasts like tax collectors, thieves, and divorcees. I know that his few times on record as angry had him withering fig trees and throwing tables in the temple (presumably because profit had interfered with the value of people and their access to God). So maybe Jesus would like a good protest too. I know that he never had political ambitions but that that didn't stop the pharisees from seeing him and his followers as a political threat. I know that the way he listened to and treated women, Samaritans, Roman Gentiles, the disabled, orphans, thieves, and the unclean upended the social order of his day, but that he valued those people over keeping that status quo and a false peace. I know that Jesus warned us about trusting those who speak about peace when there is no peace.

And I know that the Jesus I was told to be like has conveniently been wiped clean of all of those difficult facts and more difficult emotions. I'm supposed to resemble the oil paintings of Jesus in the garden, suffering for the world but doing nothing more than kneeling in prayer as I prioritize spirituality over our present circumstances, a beatific smile on my face. But I also know the words to the book of James like the back of my hand. From beginning to end it is a challenge to do something. To put faith to deeds. To not show favoritism. To be wary of teaching because you will judged. To pay those who labor for you fairly so that the wages don't cry out against you and consume you. It's a book that makes me want to flip tables. I like to think that James was the half-brother who understood Jesus best as a whole, divine person.

Truthfully, I don't know where Jesus would be in Portland. But I also don't know where he wouldn't be.

I can’t be sure where we’d find Jesus were he in my city today. But I do know that he always affirmed the value of those who had no power, whether they were born blind or caught in the act of adultery. When he was criticized for eating with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus’s only defense was that "the healthy don’t need a doctor". And I know that statement wasn’t meant to endorse the righteousness of the pharisees and claim they weren't sick. I’m beginning to suspect it was meant to criticize them for their own reluctance to eat with tax collectors and sinners.

So when I look for Jesus, I look for him among the sick who know they are sick. I look for him among those seeking medicine, seeking change, seeking justice. I don’t know what he would be doing for sure. Maybe he’d be chanting, “no justice, no peace” with my city. Maybe not. But he certainly would eat with the least of us. He would heal the most broken. And he would affirm the image of God in everyone, but especially in those who political and church leaders have forgotten or excluded.