
I couldn’t manage a new post this week. I mean, where to start?! Erika Kirk offered forgiveness to her husband’s killer (“Because that’s what Jesus would do,” she said.), followed by the president bloviating (“Sorry, Ericka, I prefer hate,” he said.), followed by ABC’s suspension of Jimmy Kimmel (“For insensitive remarks,” they said.), followed by the president bloviating (again) at the United Nation’s rostrum (“I’m really good at this stuff: your countries are going to hell!”), followed by Kimmel’s return (“If people believe in Jesus’s teachings, they would see that Erika’s forgiveness embodies that message of grace,” he said.) Bad week for Trump. Good week for Jesus. So in honor of Jesus, here’s my post from February 23, 2020.
I know a lot about Jesus. More than a lot of people. He’s been a lifelong obsession. (Lord help me Jesus, I can’t quit you.)
What’s a neurotic to do?
I know what I’m doing. I’m teaching a class.
(Jesus Before Christianity at Shepherd University Lifelong Learning Program.)
It took me a while to realize I could package my neurosis for the benefit of others. I mean, why be selfish with your obsessions?
I’ve been looking for Jesus most of my life. Much to my surprise, the closer I got, the less there was. Like a mirage. Still, a mirage can get you to a place you might otherwise miss—if you keep trudging.
My evangelical friends told me that knowing about Jesus wasn’t good enough.
That won’t save you, Randy. You got Jesus in your head. You need Jesus in your heart. Do you walk and talk with him? Is he your friend?
Actually, no. I don’t have any invisible friends. I used to. When I was five.
I tried to conjure up Jesus so I could walk and talk with him (on the mainline, in the garden, on my pillow). It didn’t work. It felt childish.
(Childlike faith is one thing. Childish is another.)
As it turns out, I couldn’t bring myself to believe in Jesus in that way. But I kept trudging.
And then one day, out of the blue, a Jewish friend told me: I don’t believe in Jesus. I believe with him. I believe in the power of love as Jesus did.
Lightning struck.
Of course! Why didn’t I think of that myself long ago?!



