In between what was and what will be
He has entered history
Down the corridor of time
Across a theatre of mime
I have seen the Son of Man
In the human caravan.
– from the song “Rejoice” by John Fischer
Where? See Him there? Or wait a minute, there He is. Or is that Him over there? Darn. I think I missed Him.
He shouldn’t be that hard to pick out, mind you. I mean He’s the Son of God, for heaven’s sake. He should stick out like a sore thumb. Well, not like He hit His thumb in the carpenter’s shop, or anything. He couldn’t have done that — He’s perfect. But wouldn’t He have a sort of glow around Him because of that? All His pictures have His face shining, or there’s a sort of glowing light that’s resting on His head or hovering just over Him. A halo. Certainly His robe would shine. He would stand out.
So I’ve been watching this human caravan for a while now and I haven’t seen anything unusual about it. It’s just a mass of humanity. Peasants, well-dressed business men, cripples, beggars, flight attendants, nurses, doctors, programmers, homeless, helpless, handsome, deformed, those who obviously have it together, those who wish they did, those who don’t wish anything at all because they don’t care, chiefs, chefs, missionaries, martyrs, bakers, candlestick makers, fishermen, Congresswomen, teachers, lawyers, ball players, those with everything and the good sense to use it, those with nothing and little sense at all.
He’s not there, at least, I don’t think we can ever find Him, now. It’s just a mass of humanity and He’s in there somewhere. He didn’t rise above it, or sink below it, or even walk beside it. He is in it. Swallowed up by it. He’s in there somewhere, but we’ll never find Him because He is indistinguishable from all the rest. He could be any one of them. He could be all of them. But isn’t that the point? He came to identify with us. He came to live inside our skin.
Keep looking. You’ll never find Him. Or, better yet, you’ll find Him everywhere.