His Name Is Not Jesus
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In the silent womb of history, she whispered "Yeshua,"
not "Jesus," with the tenderness of a mother’s hope,
her firstborn cradled in the night, stars witnessing the promise.
Brothers called him "Yeshua" in playful yells across sun-drenched fields,
in the sweat and toil of Nazareth’s dust, not a syllable of "Jesus."
Disciples breaking bread, hearts heavy with devotion,
sat in circles around him, "Yeshua" on their lips,
they didn’t pass the wine to "Jesus."
Blind men healed with mud and divine breath,
their first sight a miracle, "Yeshua" their savior,
cripples leaping in the temple’s shadow,
crowds on the Galilean shore, "Yeshua" in the air, not "Jesus."
Rumors whispered through Jerusalem’s narrow veins,
a man claiming divine kinship, a stir of ancient prophecies,
yet no one sought a "Jesus" among the alleys and whispers.
Guards, spears glinting in moonlight,
didn’t seize "Jesus" that night of blood and betrayal,
on Golgotha’s skull-capped hill, the cries of agony bore no "Jesus."
When they laid him in the cold, stone tomb,
grief-stricken women weeping,
they did not seek "Jesus" in the dawn’s first light.
When resurrection broke the seal of death,
angels proclaiming victory,
the echo was "Yeshua," not "Jesus."
In the hushed rooms, disciples touched wounds,
felt the breath of life returned,
none gasped "Jesus."
Followers spread his light, kindled hearts across empires,
but "Jesus" was not the spark.
Centuries later, in cathedrals built on bones and faith,
the echo of "Yeshua" faded,
the church’s lips formed "Jesus,"
a name molded by foreign tongues,
forged in the crucible of translation,
layered with time’s dust and tradition.
How can you pray in his name,
when the syllables you utter were never his?
He commanded, "Ask in my name,"
and it was "Yeshua" he spoke, "Yeshua" he breathed,
yet "Jesus" rings hollow in the sanctuaries of the faithful.
On that day, when he splits the skies,
descending as King of Kings,
it will not be "Jesus" in his proclamation,
not "Jesus" leading the celestial host,
not "Jesus" gathering the lost sheep.
Building new heavens, a renewed earth,
his name woven into the cosmos,
will not be "Jesus."
The name that cracks the heavens,
the name that draws the wayward home,
is "Yeshua."
Pray in his true name, the name bestowed,
ask in the name he bore in flesh,
the name whispered through time’s corridors,
"Yeshua," "Yeshua."
In the blaze of final days,
when he returns to vanquish the fallen,
to gather his own in a new dawn,
his name will not be "Jesus."
When the trumpet sounds, and all knees bow,
it will be "Yeshua" who reigns.
I write this in the name of Yeshua,
for "Yeshua" is his name, the name eternal,
the name unbroken by history’s tides,
the name that was, is, and always will be.
Yeshua
Title: "His Name Is Not Jesus"
Literary Description:
This poem, inspired by the style of Allen Ginsberg, delves into the profound and controversial topic of the true name of Jesus Christ. It utilizes vivid imagery, a continuous flow of thoughts, and enjambment to create a powerful free verse that challenges conventional beliefs and invites the reader to contemplate the significance of names in religious practice. The poem's raw, emotional intensity serves to illuminate the gap between historical fact and modern religious tradition.
Subject Explanation:
The poem explores the discrepancy between the name "Jesus" commonly used in modern Christianity and the name "Yeshua," which historical evidence suggests was his actual name. It questions the authenticity of praying in a name that was never used by the messiah himself, his followers, or contemporaries. The poem is a call to acknowledge and honor the true name of Yeshua, reflecting on the implications of this understanding for faith and worship.
Emotional Interpretation:
The poem evokes a sense of urgency and reverence, combined with a profound frustration at the loss and misrepresentation of a significant part of Christian heritage. It reflects a deep yearning for authenticity and a return to the roots of faith, stirring feelings of introspection, conviction, and a longing for spiritual truth.
The "church" ruled by greeks rewrote the 'bible' in the 400 Ads. adding pages they liked and removing all they did not like. Of course, this was with all of THEIR interpretations which counted and all other passages, stories, books that were written by other religious people that did not agree with the 'holies of holies" versions were trashed.
Mmmmm so who gets credit on whose interpretations of hand-picked pages, picked through for the authors to support their view point.
Which of all the versions of the bible is the 'true' one.
which hebrew and greek texts are correct and which are not?
Argue over the spelling of a name from texts you have no idea of whom wrote, what, when, or where! Guesses only as no proof exists other than scraps here or there so quote all you want, it still is only a guess!