When Jesus Calls Five

Watching a DVD, snuggling with the wife. {Phone Rings}

Direct quote from Joann:

"That better be Jesus Christ!"

I get up, cause, well, who knows?

I grab the phone and look at the caller ID.

I shit you not.

Jesus Christ

916-***-****

"It's Jesus calling . . . and he's local. Do I let the machine pick up?"

"OMG. Answer it."

"Kay . . . Hello? . . . Jesus?"

But nothing. There was no sound at the other end of the phone, nor was there any heavy breathing, nor was there any of that white noise to suggest that Jesus was going to come on any minute and ask me about how much I would like to reduce the APR on my Visa card. I must have waited too long to pick up. Jesus has left the call.

Now, you may be suprised to know that a midday call from Jesus Christ isn't all that unusual. Part of our deal with Comcast is that we get Caller ID, but they have the right to sell our phone number to every telemarketing agency in both this world, hell, and the kingdom of heaven.

Lotta telemarketers in hell.

But most likely, when Jesus Christ comes up on our Caller ID, it's probably some donation drive for some local church with Jesus Christ as the first words in their title.

But . . . you know . . . like . . . what if?

It occured to me that in that moment I was totally unprepared for a phone call from Jesus, and although we've finally decided to get rid of our landline, it's very possible that Jesus reads this blog regularly and my cell phone number is listed on my website for any Messiah to take advantage of.

Now, after giving this like a whole twenty minutes worth of thought, I want to share with you five things you should know/say/do when Jesus comes calling for you.

Step One: Act like nothing is wrong.

A phone call from Jesus is a lot like getting pulled over by the highway patrol. You know you must have been doing something illegal/sinful, but you're not sure if it was speeding or you have a tail-light out or your registration might not be up to date because you've left that sticker sitting on the kitchen counter for like months now. A phone call from Jesus isn't as scary cause there are no flashing lights, and he's most likely not carrying a gun (unless you live in Texas), but all the same you're gonna panic and start listing off sins and trying to remember if masterbation is an Old Testament no-no or a New Testament no-no and "why god why?" were you so foolish as to index your bible in the science fiction section of your bookcase when it clearly belongs the the autobiography shelf.

Just remember, you don't know why Jesus is calling yet, so don't give anything away.

Be cool.

Say something like: "Hi Jesus/Officer." Smile. "What can I do for you today?"

And it never hurts to show a little cleavage.

Step Two: Getting to know Jesus.

I'm sure you have lots of questions. "Will there ever be peace in the Middle East?", "What's your stance on abortion?", "Did my dog Sparky really go to live at a farm in the country? And if so, do I get to see him again in Heaven?"

These are very important things to know . . . but even though Jesus is a slice of the Trinity Pie . . . he's also the human slice and you have to grease the skids a little bit like this was a blind date.

Humans love talking about themselves, so get the ball rolling with something personal, but not too deep.

Like . . I wanna know how he feels about Christian Rock. I mean . . . like . . . there isn't a girl alive who doesn't swoon over a song that's been written about them (lovingly), but Jesus was a huge fan of irony, word play, and metaphor, and though Christian Rock songs are beautiful, the sentiment gets a little stale after the first stanza.

We know he likes long walks on the beach, but how does he feel about smooth jazz?

Step Three: Show a little respect.

I know it's a Saturday afternoon, and you're pretty much done for the day, and being omnipotent, there's a very good chance that he already knows what you look like naked, but . . . you know . . . put a bra on.

For Christ's sake.

Step Four: Listen to what he has to say.

I imagine that Jesus's voice is probably nice and deep. Like Sam Elliot or James Earl Jones. So it may be a little freaky to hear him tell you that he is, in fact, your father, or something as innocuous as 'The Dude Abides' it's important that your don't get lulled by the tone and miss the words enitrely.

If you find yourself spacing out, grab a notepad and a red pen.

Remember: Jesus's words should always be in red.

A pink highlighter will do in a pinch.

And try to get the spelling and phrasing exact. We all know what can happen after two thousand years of misinterpretation.

Step Five: Be prepared that it's a wrong number.

Now I don't kow how to put this delicately, but even after two millenniums, there's a good chance that his carpals and metacarpels haven't totally heeled after that whole nailed to the cross thing. It's very possible that he hasn't upgraded to the iPhone 4s yet and doesn't have Siri to auto-dial for him. Which means, in all likelyhood, since you haven't been to church since god knows when, that he hit 773 instead of 733.

Yeah, that could be really embarassing for him, so, him being the Messiah and all, you might want to cut him a little slack.

I'm sure you're feelings might be a bit hurt . . . to have direct evidence that Jesus wasn't, in fact, taking an interest in you. But you gotta remember, he has a kingdom to run and the entire population of earth to save, and he probably hasn't even started his Christmas shopping yet and there are places even Amazon won't deliver to.

And C'mon.

You get to spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch with your beautiful wife, drinking wine and eating some gooey spinach dip with chewy sourdough chunks while your healthy son is out riding his bike instead of playing video games.

Hell . . . you might even get lucky later.

God has already done you a solid.

So wish him a nice day and get back to your wonderful life.

And if you really want to honor him, go ahead and grab some scented oils and give your wife a foot rub.

Jesus loves footrubs.

[John 12:3]