in the present tense

I met Lucien Zell the other day. I don't know quite how to describe the encounter because it took me by surprise, caught me without all of my be-prepared-for-cool-encounters receptors turned on. Unforgetable, maybe? Totally random, or, because it seems that way, totally not. He's a poet, that's what he does, that's who he is. He has dread locks, a dark beard with a strand or two of white here and there, and he only has one hand. I told him I'm an aspiring poet, and I got the impression that, were we to remain friends, he would hold me to that.
In a bookstore tucked along a small street not far from the river he showed me a book of his poetry. We sat there and offered select bits of our stories to each other.
We were joined by a Czech student he knew, and I learned that my love goes out naturally to some and gets damed up enroute to others. Lucien was fun to love, because we connected, the other guy was easy to be bothered by. Oops.
In a tea room, a few turns and a slight stroll away from the bookstore, the three of us sat in low chairs and shared a meal together - each of us approaching life in a different way, but maybe not really, but yes really too.
Lucien listened with his ears open wide, and eyes the same way. The words and phrases we passed back and forth as we crafted the conversation (or do they craft us?) kept on hitting targets in me, kept striking me in tender spots - the spots that tell me I'm poetic, I'm romantic, I'm hopeful.
I like meeting other people like that. It helps me, somehow, in my belief that Jesus was and is like that.
We talked about Jesus, Lucien and I. Lucien said beautiful things about Jesus, true things about how Jesus wanted people to love each other and how he didn't want to start up violence and hatred in people's hearts even though that's what ended up happening, because that's what always seems to end up happening. But Jesus didn't want that, Lucien said, he didn't want to get mixed in with the struggle for power. Jesus wanted people to be kind and to live life well, and in a bold display Jesus went about loving and living well.
I think Lucien would probably talk about Jesus in the past tense only, I didn't notice, but that's the impression I got. I think Lucien probably could approach spirituality without it all being saturated with Jesus. Lucien's pretty tolerant and I think he could stomach the religions without Jesus just as readily as the ones with Jesus. And that doesn't scare me too much; doesn't scare me in the sense that I'm not afraid of Lucien because of it, I embraced him as a friend rather than skewering him as a threat.

I read something tonight by an old friend and mentor of mine. He wrote about me and a lot of my peers - people who are sifting through an emerging if not fresh sort of Christian spirituality - and his words were stuffed with encouragement toward us. He also extended some warning, because that's how he thinks - he finds positive things in various approaches to faith as well as things to be wary of. "Keep Jesus," he wrote. And by it he meant, when we talk about Jesus we ought to talk about Jesus in the present tense as well as the past tense; and if we're really bold we'll talk about Jesus in the future tense too, maybe we'll even talk to Jesus and not only about Jesus. My old friend and mentor meant that if we're really interested in the Kingdom of God, life to the full, loving our neighbors as our self - if we're committed to these things - then our spirituality has to be saturated with Jesus; if we're going to live religiously then our religion has to be saturated with Jesus; if we're going to live, period, believing and hoping in those things, then our lives have to be saturated with Jesus -- and not just a "once-upon-a-time" Jesus and not just a "happily-ever-after" Jesus but a real live right here and now Jesus.
I'm glad he reminded us to keep Jesus. I'm glad he didn't suggest that we should feel threatened by people who don't.