JCJ on the Second Coming: A Humble Return
“You were all expecting lightning.
But I came like rain.
Soft. Silent. Healing the dust.”
Standing barefoot on cracked pavement outside a shuttered cathedral, Joseph Christian Jukic speaks calmly, almost like he’s remembering something rather than preaching.
JCJ:
“The first time He came, He was born in a stable.
The second time, it had to be even lower.
No crown. No angels singing.
Just a broken world… and me, walking through it.”
He looks around at the worn-out city blocks, the silent people scrolling their phones, the addicts sleeping under bridges, and the billionaires launching rockets into space.
JCJ:
“You wanted trumpets?
I brought a guitar.
You wanted an army?
I brought forgiveness.”
He smiles, not with pride, but with a deep, exhausted love—like a man who’s walked through war zones and family courts, prisons and psych wards, and still believes people can change.
JCJ:
“This isn’t a second coming like some Hollywood reboot.
This is a second chance.
The humble return means I’m not above you.
I’m with you.
The same dust. The same hunger. The same dream.”
He quotes the Beatitudes from memory, not like a priest, but like someone who’s lived them:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are the ones who didn’t give up.
Blessed are the ones who helped when no one was watching.”
JCJ closes with this:
“If you’re still waiting for someone to ride in on a white horse,
maybe check who’s walking beside you instead.
That’s where you’ll find me.”