Jay Cee

I know it. I know that going through magazines, business mailings, and junk mail as soon as they arrive is the best way to manage it. Yet. I still let it pile up until I have weeks (or sometimes months) worth of papers to sort and then my hand starts to hurt from ripping up everything I don’t want and then I start to feel guilty for helping waste so many trees. Nonetheless, snow days are good days to go through said piles of paper, and sometimes said piles of paper render a few things to think about.

Yesterday, as I was reading the summer newsletter (yes, summer) from Manna House, Inc., a homeless shelter in Baltimore where I volunteered for a week in college, I came across a poem that made an impression on me. I want to share it here, in hopes that it will make an impression on you, too—especially this Lenten season.

Jay Cee (J.C.)

J.C.’s mother was pregnant out of wedlock
He was born in an animal shelter
He had no formal education
He was homeless

The governor tried to murder him when he was a baby
His parents had to migrate to save his life
He had very few friends
He was homeless

He slept in boats
He spent his quiet time in parks
He rode on a borrowed donkey
J.C. was homeless

His friends were mostly illiterate fishermen
He owned no property
His father was a simple tradesman
He was homeless

One of his trusted friends betrayed him
He lived on the kindness of strangers
He was falsely accused and arrested
J.C. was homeless

He did not get a fair trial
His best friends denied knowing him
He was assaulted by Soldiers to near death
He was homeless

His sermons were free
The religious leaders of his time hated him
He was brutally murdered for a crime he did not commit
J.C. was homeless

His mother was a witness to his murder
He changed the course of history
He changed the fate of mankind
He was homeless

Today many call themselves his followers
People are persecuted because of him
Millions know his name.
J.C. was homeless

--Samuel Enos, M.D., M.P.H