Plastic Jesus

I know nothing about plastic Jesus. My Jesus is a Son of Man of Flesh and Blood, Soul an Divinity. This is  the One I offer to the Father in the Most Holy Eucharist and when I say Divine Mercy Chaplet. This is the One who knows me through and through and has not given up on me yet. This is Jesus I belong to. This is Jesus I struggle to follow, read and understand. This is Jesus who keeps silent most of times in my life, yet steers it whenever needed and shelters me when I make the mess of my life and bring ruin and chaos. This is is Jesus, real One, who talks to me silently through people and events, through His Word and Breaking of Bread. I know nothing of plastic Jesus...


As I listen to the words of the song 'Plastic Jesus' which may sound offensive to our faith, but it is not in fact, being rather a dark sarcasm directed at those who turn the Faith into commerce, perversion, self-made religion and so forth...

Well I don't care if it rains or freezes,
Long as I got my plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
Through all trials and tribulations,
And my travels through the nations,
With my plastic Jesus I'll go far.

Oh Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
I'm afraid he'll have to go,
His magnets ruin my radio,
And if I have a wreck, he'll leave a scar.


Riding down a thoroughfare,
With his nose up in the air,
A wreck may be ahead, but he don't mind.
Trouble coming, he don't see,
Just keeps his eyes on me,
And any other thing that lies behind.

Oh, Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
Though the sun shines on his back,
Makes him peel, chip and crack,
A little patching keeps him up to par.


When pedestrians try to cross,
I let them know who's boss,
Never blow the horn or give them warning.
I ride all over town,
Trying to run them down,
It's seldom that they live to see the morning.

Oh, Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
His halo fits just right,
And I use it for a sight,
They'll scatter or they'll splatter, near and far.


If I weave around at night,
And the police think I'm tight,
They'll never find my bottle though they ask. (yes they ask)
Plastic Jesus shelters me,
For his head comes off you see,
He's hollow and I use him for a flask.

Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car. (of my car)
Ride with me and have a dram,
Of the blood of the lamb,
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar.

Oh, Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
Once his robe was snowy white
Now it isn't quite so bright
Stained by the smoke from my cigar.
Oh, Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car.
I'm afraid he'll have to go,
his magnets ruin my radio,
And if I have a wreck, he'll leave a scar.

...I recall an article written by Father Laurenti Magesa Cornel, a priest of Diocese of Musoma, in New People magazine published in Nairobi, Kenya, who once used the same term as its title: 'No more plastic Jesus', objecting western cultural wrapping of the Faith being imposed on Africans... Though at that time I was (and still am) in objection to many of allegations written in the article, thinking of it as too biased and bitter, I cannot but give a credit the author for bringing the issue to the light of the day and making it a food for thought for all concerned...

As we head into Christmas Season, with all sorts of religious merchandise and traditional commercial wrapping of the mystery of the Nativity of The Real Son of God and Son of Man, as I see guys selling plastic Christmas trees in the streets and junctions, in the scorching heat of Dar es Salaam's summer, the words of the song come back to me... And I still know nothing of that plastic Jesus under plastic Christmas tree...

Thang God for your glowing eyes and unique smile full of peace and inner joy, when you look at me right after receiving the Holy Communion. I see you then, I see real Jesus in your eyes and in your smile... I know you... I know Jesus in you...