He has two missing teeth, whiskey on his breath, and a nose that's clearly seen it's fair share of abuse...
(broken three times by his account)...
He boasts of his strength, of his honesty, and of his love...
as if you couldn't find each quality lost in his deep, piercing stare...
He spends his nights under a bridge...
with his family...
and his family is everything he needs...
No, he's not related to the members of his family by blood...
but rather
by love.
He's the guy who takes care of things...
He's the guy who you come to when you're in need...
He gives and gives and refuses to take...
and we think, "we're the one's who are here to give"...
and we think, "we're the one's who are here to "be Jesus"'...
and we think, "we're the one's who have our lives together"...
and we think we're the one's who are easy to love...
but how does Rick love me?
but how does Jesus love me?
I come to talk to these poor, pitiful homeless people who need me to love them.
These poor, pitiful lost souls who need me to give them something.
I'll talk until I've had enough, and I'll go back to my dorm and sleep soundly, confident that I've filled by quota for "being Jesus" today because I talked to those poor, pitiful people down under the bridge.
Man... at least it's not me.
I'll bet those people were glad I came so I could save them from their sorrows. I'll bet they love having me there to be Jesus. I'll bet they've never seen anyone love like I do.
How can they love me?
How can Rick love me?
How can Jesus love me?
I came to give, I came to love, I came to "be Jesus"... but Jesus is under the bridge tonight... and he found it in his heart to love me.
How can Rick love me when I'm going home tonight?
and not just going home, I'm going home to a dorm room with air conditioning, a bed, a blanket, a pillow, at a school my family is paying $22,000 a year to send me too...
I'll wake up tomorrow when the alarm on my cellphone goes off, walk down the hall and take a shower, when I get back I'll check my e-mail on the computer I spent enough money on to put Rick in an apartment for a couple months, and I'll drive in my nice, new car to a church that is about 5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me in spite of myself.
5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me despite my insincerity.
5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me despite my depravity.
5 blocks away...
and what have I done to deserve his love?...
nothing.
I would love to give him something...
something he needs, something he wants... anything.
but I can't.
I have nothing to offer.
He has everything he needs...
and I think I have the right to feel superior to anyone...
How could he love me?
How could Rick love me?
How could Jesus love me?
I met Jesus tonight... and his name is Rick.
He loves me...
and I have no idea why.
Lord, teach me to love.
teach me to love like Rick.
(broken three times by his account)...
He boasts of his strength, of his honesty, and of his love...
as if you couldn't find each quality lost in his deep, piercing stare...
He spends his nights under a bridge...
with his family...
and his family is everything he needs...
No, he's not related to the members of his family by blood...
but rather
by love.
He's the guy who takes care of things...
He's the guy who you come to when you're in need...
He gives and gives and refuses to take...
and we think, "we're the one's who are here to give"...
and we think, "we're the one's who are here to "be Jesus"'...
and we think, "we're the one's who have our lives together"...
and we think we're the one's who are easy to love...
but how does Rick love me?
but how does Jesus love me?
I come to talk to these poor, pitiful homeless people who need me to love them.
These poor, pitiful lost souls who need me to give them something.
I'll talk until I've had enough, and I'll go back to my dorm and sleep soundly, confident that I've filled by quota for "being Jesus" today because I talked to those poor, pitiful people down under the bridge.
Man... at least it's not me.
I'll bet those people were glad I came so I could save them from their sorrows. I'll bet they love having me there to be Jesus. I'll bet they've never seen anyone love like I do.
How can they love me?
How can Rick love me?
How can Jesus love me?
I came to give, I came to love, I came to "be Jesus"... but Jesus is under the bridge tonight... and he found it in his heart to love me.
How can Rick love me when I'm going home tonight?
and not just going home, I'm going home to a dorm room with air conditioning, a bed, a blanket, a pillow, at a school my family is paying $22,000 a year to send me too...
I'll wake up tomorrow when the alarm on my cellphone goes off, walk down the hall and take a shower, when I get back I'll check my e-mail on the computer I spent enough money on to put Rick in an apartment for a couple months, and I'll drive in my nice, new car to a church that is about 5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me in spite of myself.
5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me despite my insincerity.
5 blocks away from a man who chooses to love me despite my depravity.
5 blocks away...
and what have I done to deserve his love?...
nothing.
I would love to give him something...
something he needs, something he wants... anything.
but I can't.
I have nothing to offer.
He has everything he needs...
and I think I have the right to feel superior to anyone...
How could he love me?
How could Rick love me?
How could Jesus love me?
I met Jesus tonight... and his name is Rick.
He loves me...
and I have no idea why.
Lord, teach me to love.
teach me to love like Rick.
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