Pen Pals Anyone

Hey I know the benefit of friends in high places. There’s nothing like having that contact, that friend of a friend, that person on the inside when you need one. I guess that’s why everybody was so tore up when John Gotti died. Even behind bars, he apparently was the go to man. Now I’ve never ever had any dealings with the mob; I did have a rather suspicious neighbor one time when I lived in Texas. But from what I’ve seen on the movies, there’s nothing that could fix the flat tire on the road of life like being on the good foot with the Godfather. Need rent money, call the Godfather; Susie needs braces, call the Godfather. Neighbor’s dogs bark too much? Just tell him when you want it done. So what, if he lived and breathed on the wrong side of the law; that guy could get things done.

I guess that’s why I never really understood what it meant to have that personal relationship with Jesus. Come on now; nobody’s seen hide nor hair of this fellow for two thousand years. Sure he’s in books, and lots of them, and he’s in pictures, and lots of them too. And everybody sure talks about him all the time, especially on the weekend. But it seems to me like we’re the ones doing all the work. Granted, he’s one of the most popular figures in world history. Time can do that to a guy. But what would you think if you’re neighbor had a thing for some other ancient figure, say like Julius Caesar, or Marco Polo. Wouldn’t you have to agree that they were just a little bit nuts.

I tell you what I’m talking about. Some people, and a lot of them, go through their whole day acting like Jesus is right on their shoulder, with them on every move. They talk to him, they sing to him, they ask him questions. They plead, they beg, they argue. Jimmy Stewart did that in the movie Harvey, and everybody called him crazy.

Dad always taught me the way to do business is to look the fellow in the eye, shake hands, and you had a deal. This messianic arrangement doesn’t go by those normal rules. It seems to me to be so lopsided, almost a no win situation. I mean it’s just you, and you.

Yeah, if I was going turn my life over to anybody, I think I’d have to know what he looked like first, or at least have some way to get in touch. Just in case he was late, or I was late, or something. I mean there’s a whole lot to this.

I noticed on the Survivor show the other day, the black fellow from Harlem. He bragged all the time about his personal relationship with Jesus. And it looked like it might have paid off when he busted all those coconuts the fastest and won that red mini-van. But I guess Jesus must have gotten tied up with somebody else’s game show somewhere, because the he got booted off the next go-around. Funny thing was though I didn’t see Jesus taking any of the heat for that one.

Come to think of it, that seems to be the way a lot of folks use or deal with Jesus in their so called personal relationship. He always came across as being a lot tougher than that in print, but in real life, most of the time people only want to give him credit when something good happens; the same way people treat their little lap dog or a brand new baby.

If I live to be 800, just like Methuselah did, I will never forget the prayer groups and all the hoopla before the OJ Simpson verdict came down. Relatives of the victims, bless their hearts, had prayed that God and Jesus would do the right thing. OJ’s mom and sisters had prayed that God and Jesus would do the right thing. Well as it would turn out, I guess Jesus must have been a Buffalo Bills fan or was at least hoping to see Police Academy IV, because the jury dropped the ball and let the a-hole loose. But at least Jesus was happy. His will be done, right?

Yeah the idea of Jesus as a buddy system has certainly grabbed hold. Of course it hasn’t always been like that. In their on again-off again affair, there were times when it would have been easier for Abraham to get into a Tiger Woods foursome than sit down and break bread with the Big Man.

Us, why we treat Jesus like he’s our favorite drinking buddy, a real pal. There are even folks today who want to take it to the next level and argue via their license plates. Everybody’s seen the tag that reads God is my Co-pilot. Well some outfit, and it must be an even more right winged fanatic group, have put out their own plates to counteract. If God is Your Co-Pilot, You Better Change Seats; no doubt some real brainiacs running this public awareness campaign. I wouldn’t like riding with any of them if you want to know the truth.

I’ve given this a lot of thought. Just think about it. Some guy claims to have a personal relationship with the essence, or being, or whatever that perhaps created the earth under their house; not only that but all the land across the entire state, why even the whole nation; and not only that but we’re talking these same folks have this personal one-on-one with the entity that created not only our earth, and moon, but all the other planets, plus the sun, plus the ga-zillions of other stars and moons and planets and everything else out there that is. Do you hear what I’m saying? People here actually claim to have some type of something with whatever it was that made all things, and still they can’t drop fifteen pounds or get little Johnny to do his homework. If that’s the case, I think I’d find another friend.