Flannel Jesus

This changes everything. I recently finished reading The Shack. I know, I know. I'm so cliche. But, I wanted to see what all the hullaballoo was about, so I read it. I think a lot of its theological dialogue went right through my mental sieve, but I did retain at least one GEM. And, it is the above mental image. Jesus in flannel.

Without disclosing too much information to the one person left on the planet who hasn't read it yet, the book focuses on one man's reconnection with the Trinity. He goes back to the site his daughter's death and meets the Three-in-one. And, from the way I interpreted the text, when the main character met Jesus for the first time, he was dressed like a page out of the Urban Outfitters catalog. I take that back... his worn plaid shirt was undoubtedly not over-priced, nor was it likely to have been manufactured to appear rugged. His was probably the real deal.

As the narrative unfolded, the story followed the protagonist's journey back toward communion with God. Memorable to me was the scene in which he and Jesus recline star-wards on a lakeside dock. Yes please! That kind of natural intimacy... that free-flowing, crisp-air easy conversation is what I want to be about. I want to lay beside this approachable Jesus and talk into the night.

I've had several ridiculous conversations with my best friends over the last several years. (And I hope and pray to have many more!) One, however, that will always rise to the surface for its unprecedented hilarity featured hearty debate over what Jesus would order at a Mexican restaurant (Barberitos, specifically). Is he a burrito man? Would he opt for tofu? Or does he strike you as nacho kind of guy? I thought about it as seriously as this absurd topic would afford.

Thinking about Jesus' humanity means everything to me. It means that he is not just fully celestial, un-touchable perfection. Of course, he is all of those things. But He is also every bit man. And, I plaidly await the day that we can sit dockside, eating burritos.