Beers with Jesus

Alright, so imagine this. You’re sitting down at an Applebees alone. You aren’t lonely or anything, you just really felt like having Applebees, and everyone else was busy. As you’re sitting there, you see some guy walk in. You can’t hear the words, but you know the drill: she’s doing the whole rigmarole about how many are in his party and all that. You see him do that scan of the room that people do when they’re looking for their buddies. He even has his chin up and everything. 

Weirdly enough, he spots you and points with a smile, like he has found who he was looking for. You look behind you, but you’re in a booth against the wall. Now you’re confused as he walks over and says hey. You don’t know this guy. At least, you think you don’t. But from the way he is acting, he seems to know you. Weird. What the heck is going on? 

After some chit-chat, you decide to pluck up the courage and ask him if you actually know him. He replies with a simple “nah, you don’t actually know me. I saw you when I walked in and thought to myself, ‘that guy looks pretty cool. I’d buy him a beer.’ Turns out, I was right!” The words don’t sit quite right with you. After all–you’re a nobody. What kind of random stranger would give you the time of day like this? 

But this stranger seems to really enjoy your company, so you shrug it off. After a while (but still just the one beer,) you decide it’s time to head home. “We should do this again sometime!” The stranger says. You give that polite nod of agreement that most people give when they don’t want to make a fuss about something that was said. After all, what are the odds of you running into this guy again? Not too great. 

At least, so you think.

The next weekend rolls around, and you’re sitting at a park. You get a few moments to decompress from the long week, and up walks the dude from last week! You chuckle at the coincidence as he sits down. You ask him what he’s doing here and he’s surprisingly straightforward.

“I knew you’d be here and I just wanted to come hang out with you.” 

Normally, you’d be more than a little bit creeped out, but this guy’s different. There’s a weird presence about this guy that calms your nerves. Charisma? No, it’s something more. Something deeper about the way he talks, the way he listens–it’s almost like he makes the worries of the world simply fade away. 

Once again, you enjoy your time together and get up to head home. Except, something about the way this guy is makes you hesitate. You begin to realize that you really want whatever the heck he has. His peace, his smile, his love of life and everything in it–you want some of that. So you do the unthinkable. As he gets up to leave, you ask him to stop for a second. Then you do something even weirder: you ask if you can follow him. You don’t know where he’s going or what you’ll be doing. But, quite frankly, you don’t really care. All that matters is that you get to be around this dude, soaking up whatever it is he has going on in his head. 

What he says in response is different from person to person. Sometimes, he spreads his arms wide for a big hug. Other times, he shows you exactly what you just asked of him. In some way, he pushes back on our understanding of life, the universe, and everything. It isn’t always comfortable or fun, but it always leads to good things in the long run. It all leads to getting that same energy that he has. 

Folks, that’s what it’s like to hang out with Jesus. This idea grabbed my imagination and I felt like I had to run with it. Sometimes, I like to tie my mind in knots as I try to understand where God is taking me. He calls me to fly blind sometimes and I don’t like that. I keep asking myself, “how much hurting will I have to do this time? What am I really risking and what price will I wind up paying?” It’s a fair question, especially after some of the steep prices that I have paid over the years. 

But without this kind of picture, this reminder that God is good, it’s easy to lose our drive to keep walking the path that He has set before us. We can become resentful, like the hobbits do of Gandalf. “Oh, I’m only on this adventure because God is making me.” We might be tempted to say. Some even do. I know I have. 

But we have to remind ourselves that it is for our good that we follow God. I can’t lie–that doesn’t make it easy. I still can’t help but think about the prices I am paying, or even may one day pay, for the path I’m walking. It’s rarely a comfort to me. But I must keep reminding myself of the encounter I had, knowing that all that I’m walking through is to be able to give that same experience to others.