Tag Archives: poetry

Who is Jesus?

An excerpt from a poem by Mother Teresa, written in 1983 during a hospitalization. That old lady knew her theology; but more than that, she knew Jesus.

Who is Jesus?

You are God.
You are God from God.
You are Begotten, not made.
You are One in Substance with the Father.
You are the Son of the Living God.
You are the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.

You are One with the Father.
You are in the Father from the beginning:
All things were made by You and the Father.
You are the Beloved Son in Whom the
Father is well pleased.
You are the Son of Mary,
conceived by the Holy Spirit.

You were born in Bethlehem.
You were wrapped in swaddling clothes by Mary
and put in the manger full of straw.
You were kept warm by the breath of the donkey
that carried Your mother with You in her womb.
You are the Son of Joseph,
thee Carpenter, as known by the people of Nazareth.
You are an ordinary man without much learning,
as judged by the learned people of Israel.

Who is Jesus to me?

Jesus is the Word made Flesh.
Jesus is the Bread of Life.
Jesus is the Victim offered for our sins on the Cross.
Jesus is the Sacrifice offered at the Holy Mass
for the sins of the world, and mine.
Jesus is the Word — to be spoken.
Jesus is the Truth — to be told.
Jesus is the Way — to be walked.
Jesus is the Light — to be lit.
Jesus is the Life — to be lived.
Jesus is the Love — to be loved.
Jesus is the Joy — to be shared.
Jesus is the Sacrifice — to be offered.
Jesus is the Peace — to be given.
Jesus is the Bread of Life — to be eaten.
Jesus is the Hungry — to be fed.
Jesus is the Thirsty — to be satiated.
Jesus is the Naked — to be clothed.
Jesus is the Homeless — to be taken in.
Jesus is the Sick — to be healed.
Jesus is the Lonely — to be loved.
Jesus is the Unwanted — to be wanted.
Jesus is the Leper — to wash his wounds.
Jesus is the Beggar — to give him a smile.
Jesus is the Drunkard — to listen to him.
Jesus is the Retarded — to protect him.
Jesus is the Little One — to embrace him.
Jesus is the Blind — to lead him.
Jesus is the Mute — to speak for him.
Jesus is the Crippled — to walk with him.
Jesus is the Drug Addict — to befriend him.
Jesus is the Prostitute — to remove from danger and befriend.
Jesus is the Prisoner — to be visited.
Jesus is the Old — to be served.

To Me—

Jesus is my God.
Jesus is my Life.
Jesus is my Love.
Jesus is my All in All.
Jesus is my Everything.

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The Beginning

11 p.m.
The Little Prince is lost in space.
Feels like Christmas.
“If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it.” ¹

5 a.m.
“My water broke.”
Abigail is anxious. “Let me out!” ²
The baby needs sleep. Sleep is done.

6 a.m.
Six minutes,
Three minutes,
Three minutes, five.

6:30 a.m.
Questions, forms;
Forms, questions;
Waiting.

7 a.m.
Pain?
Two.
Birth is natural.

9 a.m.
145. 132. 123.
130. 138.
Waiting. Waiting.

10:20 a.m.
“Does it hurt yet?”
“We can make it hurt more.”
Pitocin flows.

11:15 a.m.
High blood pressure.
High voices.
Where is the coffee?

12 p.m.
Stillness.
Gentle heartbeat.
Longing to hold you closer.

2 p.m.
Mountains. Crying. Struggle.
Falling into rest. Surrender.
The next hill approaches.

3 p.m.
The flesh is numb; the heart is heavy.
The end is close, but still so far.
Waiting. Waiting.

3:32 p.m.
Birth. Life.
Love. Family.
Life. Love.


1. Raold Dahl, “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”
2. Abigail didn’t explicitly say this, but her general demeanor made it quite clear; she is a dog, of course.