On Finding Jesus

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It’s not easy being a human being, and that’s if you are born healthy, have resources, and don’t constantly shoot yourself in the foot by really dumb decisions.

During your adult life the spiritual question lays begging. No one is truly indifferent even those who claim passionately to be so. For example, everyone has an opinion on Jesus.

My real empathy is found with those who have been clubbed over the head by those who have “Found Jesus” and are damned insistent that everyone they meet find Jesus now on their terms. Their excuse for being belligerent is that “warning people” is actually “loving them.” When I have pointed out that Jesus was only stern and harsh with the Religious they usually turn and “warn” me.

I think they are just plain mean.

As for finding Jesus? It would seem it goes both ways. “He who seeks finds” says Jesus and he is certainly the Pearl of Great Price in the parable. But he more often than not finds us. His name means “Yahweh to the Rescue” and the incarnation proves it is always God moving towards us, not the other way around.

“Jesus found me” is a lot more accurate than “I found Jesus”. And it doesn’t stop there. I wander all the time and Jesus leaves the other 99 sheep, puts on his hiking boots and comes after me. I assure you, it has nothing to do with my likeability. Anyone who knows me will tell you this is true. It says everything about his character and nature.

To be more specific, and in 38 years I have never written about this before (and I am not sure why), I was leaving Colorado on a plane having witnessed my fill of Christian hypocrisy. As I waited, alone, an invisible heaviness filled the room that was undeniable.

Of course I know now what and Who it was, but at the time I had no way of having the slightest clue.

A dialog of sorts (non-verbal) ensued wherein I had a clear choice. There was never a threat; quite the opposite. It was an open door to a relationship of love and meaning.

I admit, the undeniable heaviness in the room helped sell the whole thing. I have long argued that some people have “less choice than others” (Like Paul…I mean, c’mon, how much choice did he really have after he gets knocked off his camel and Jesus speaks to him?). All I can say was it did not matter. Unlike C.S. Lewis, I went joyfully with only one caveat.*

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* Remember I was 18 and rough around the edges so I asked God “so if I give my life to you do I have to be like these other asshole hypocrites?” I got the mental impression “No,” and the Almighty did not mention my foul language.

Of course, six months later I would be just as hypocritical and have to really eat crow many times (and who knows how many more times in the future?) Just proving you can never get too much humility.

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