What Wouldn’t Jesus Do?
Whilst taking a gentle morning stroll on the internet recently, I encountered a gentleman standing atop a soapbox proclaiming to all who would listen that Jesus was an anti-vaxxer.
It instantly made me wish I had paid more attention during Religious Education class. Specifically the part on how to divine Jesus’ specific, headstrong opinions on things that wouldn’t exist until 1800 years after his death.
I will point out say that my knowledge of bible lore is weak, so if any such documents or scrolls have been unearthed recently, I unreservedly apologise for and cheerfully withdraw the palpably condescending1 tone of the previous sentence.
It’s ya boy!
Now, let’s proceed. I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention but Jesus is, how can I put this? Very accomodating.
Jesus has supported causes as varied as bake sales, serfdom, spelling bees and slavery.
Sadly, for thousands of years people have mistaken the fact that Jesus supports whatever their position happens to be for the fact that Jesus thinks what they think.
And these aren’t even close to being the same thing.
“Jesus thinks what I think”
First of all, let’s quickly consider the absolute conceit of the idea “Jesus thinks exactly what I think”.
Let’s also follow the thought process of such a person.
Jesus thinks what I think;
Descartes says “I think therefore I am”;
Well, since 1+2 = 2+1 and 2x1 = 1x2; then
I am Jesus. Or as good as.
The thought that comes out the other side is that these humans genuinely think that they may as well be Jesus. That given his unfortunate absence, they’re performing a vital social function as the exclusive agent and mouthpiece for Jesus’ third party opinions.
That they’re kind of the same person, in a roundabout mathematical sense. They believe this a nonzero amount. This is a problem.
I have no doubt that they don’t think this consciously. They’d deny it if accused. But subconsciously, the maths checks out.
“I’ve got good news and bad news.”
The Bible is full of good news, and there’s a parable here I think is appropriate. You may have heard it, but if you have, don’t spoil the ending for the others.
A man dreams that he’s walking along the beach with Jesus. He looks back over his life and sees two sets of footprints in the sand: one his, and one belonging to Jesus.
This brings the man great solace, and he even invests financially in expressing it, purchasing several ‘Jesus is my co-pilot’ bumper stickers before helping to fund and arm a local militia called the ‘Insurrectionists.’
At one particularly troubled time in his life however, there are no sets of footprints at all. Only a tangled mess of skid marks, twisted into lines resembling my two year old’s nephew’s masterpiece, ‘Flowers.’2
He turns to Jesus and says “Lord. You said that you’d walk with me all the way. Why, during the saddest most uncertain times of my life did you abandon me?”
Jesus screams “Abandon you? That’s when you kidnapped me, drove us across state lines juiced up on horse-dewormer, and then I died of COVID!!”
The man dutifully replies, “With COVID.”
And thus did Jesus die for our sins, yet again. Happily, after isolating asymptomatically for three days, Jesus was back.
That’s the good news.
THE BAD NEWS
The bad news is that Jesus didn’t even agree with you, he just did it to be supportive. He doesn’t support your cause, because he believes in it, but because he believes in you.
Don’t worry, Jesus isn’t a doormat, or a yes man. He’s actually a zen master, who knows that the fastest path through ignorance is a straight line.
Jesus stands behind everyone’s cause because even though your cause isn’t the path to happiness, your belief in it, the emotion your pour into it, is.
“Where you invest your love, you invest your life.”
- Mumford and Sons.
What you care about is like which cask of wine to bring to tipsy Aunt Betty’s house. It doesn’t really matter what it is, as long as it’s something.
Jesus will cheerlead whatever it is, as long as you’re strong and brave. Like Hercules.
“I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea”
The fact you interpreted this as Jesus marching in ideological lockstep with you is a common misconception and a really easy mistake to make.
I mean whose first thought isn’t enjoying moral synchrony with the messiah?
You’re in good company though.
Parents who stop speaking to their their gay kids.
The increasingly dystopian pro-choice movement.
Welcome.
JESUS AINT NO COMMIE!
Now how could the son of God, the incarnation of all goodness on Earth support any old thing? It just doesn’t make sense.
Actually, it does. As long as you have faith.
Problem?
Let’s break it down.
Jesus has faith in God.
God is goodness. Thus..
Jesus has faith in goodness. He trusts that in time goodness will reveal itself. Through life and then through time. This is what hope and faith in God is.
If, over time the truth will reveal itself through life, then the fastest way towards the truth? Life.
So Jesus doesn’t care what you do. As long as you do the fuck out of it.
If you have faith in goodness, in the ultimate triumph of love, in humanity, then you can let other people disagree with you. Because it’s going to be alright, and this is all just part of it.
The fact that people who judge most quickly are the ones who claim divinity? Perchance the faith doth protest too much?
Jesus is championing your views? I hope he can find time to do that whilst he’s busy dying for our sins. Remember that thing?
Sorry. You might not trust people. But Jesus does.
No, Jesus has faith. In trans people. In migrants. In racists. In sociopaths. In humanity.
So just pick a thing and do it. Jesus will pose for photos.
But what if it’s the wrong thing?
Here’s the juice. It is the wrong thing. At least a little bit. It’s life, not your 5 times tables.
Life is complex, your experience is stuck inside your body and you keep forgetting to cancel 7-day app trials.
So stop taking yourself so seriously. You’re an active process. A happening. Accept that you’re wrong. Just strive to be slightly less wrong.
How should we live?
Well, what would Jesus do?
Live forcefully. Spread love, find your truth, challenge the world.
Then, just when it’s at its zenith, when every sceptic has been won over, every critic turned around, when everyone sees it as an unstoppable freight train of absolute certainty.
Walk away.
Betray it to the Romans.
Crucify it.
Take three days for reflection, then resurrect it better.
Better commandments. Better choice of disciples. Better abdominals. Jesus 2.0.
Jesus was a showman. He understood that maxim of good theatre.
“Show, don’t tell.”
Because life is a soap opera. With a soapbox. There are heroes, there are villains.
The secret is, everyone thinks they’re a hero. You might disagree with them. But it has to be that way. That’s what being a person is. That’s the point.
It’s a soap. You play a role. It’s hammy. The dialogue beggars belief.
But if you’ll just stop being too cool to care for a minute and commit to it?
It’s glorious. The passions! The betrayals! The drama!
It’s riveting, pulsating stuff. Just don’t forget to change up the plotlines every now and then.
Exfoliate.
Jesus wants you to advocate, strive, rally, declaim! Then be betrayed, crucified, and resurrected. Born anew
Christ made that pretty clear I think. If you care to look.
The Irish say ‘God loves a tryer.’ That’s absolutely spot on.
Jesus isn’t anti-vax. But he loves anti-vaxxers. You can’t say they’re not passionate. Jesus loves a tryer too.
That’s why he’ll simultaneously appear at an Occupy protest in New York City and a meeting of sovereign citizens protesting common sense health measures in Temecula.
No-one ever knows which of them got the mall Jesus. It doesn’t matter.
It’s a Jesus.
AN ENDING WHEREBY I LINK THIS BACK TO ME.
You are an early reader of Joined Up Thinking, which represents the first major change to my career and creative direction in about twenty years.
It has taken and is taking a lot of courage and humility to slough off my self-identity to pivot into whatever this ends up becoming.
I’m trusting that in committing and throwing my heart into it, that it will hopefully grow into something larger. That I will too.
I am taking a lot on faith. Maybe that’s stupid.
But that’s kind of the deal with faith. You don’t know what will happen, you just put one foot in front of the other.
Maybe there were only ever one set of footprints on the beach. Maybe the Jesus pair ambles along and joins you once you live faithfully. To yourself.
I hopefully walk in the true spirit of Jesus. That which believes that ultimately, people are good, life is love and that things will work out if we all just care enough to keep trying.
To me, that’s what Joined Up Thinking represents. The quest for honesty, knowledge and ultimately, wisdom.
Committing to expressing myself honestly and unapologetically day by day, piece by piece? Perfecting my craft, then abruptly destroying and rebuilding it anew?
That’s what Jesus wants for me. But what about you?
I don’t know if he’s anti-vax, but I do know that Jesus shares, and Jesus subscribes.
Sharing this post or another one that tickles your fancy? A paid subscription?
Mere grains of sand in the grander picture. But ultimately, cumulatively, it’s small largesses that change the world.
Tiny. Regular. And potent.
So although I’d love to rely on him, Jesus isn’t coming back. And I can’t do this on my own. I need your help. Don’t look around. Yes, you.
If you have faith in me and what I’m trying to build here, I only ask that you do for me what I am seeking to continually do for you. To share.
Share what’s inside. Comment. Share what you’re doing. Maybe I can help you. Maybe someone else can. You never know. Better out than in.
Supporting each other using that we possess yet which others lack? I’m not sure of much, but I’m sure that if Jesus (or whichever cultural manifestation of love and goodness you adhere to) wants anything at all, he/she/or it wants that.
Jesus wants us to form a crew and change the world. At least ‘til we realise the project is bullshit, bung it in a Wicker Man, light it on fire and start all over again.
WWJD?
Yianni Agisilaou - 6 July, 2022
It means to talk down to someone. I can’t believe you looked. Idiot.
It’s on our fridge.