A story is told in the Apocrypha
about Jesus encountering the most difficult test of his ministry. While traveling toward Jerusalem from Galilee, he encountered a man selling gyros on the side of the road. The man was hobbled and bent, and he squawked out of the shadows to the Lord. "Jesus of Nazareth! Have mercy on me and buy a gyro!" Jesus turned, with love in his eyes to address the man, but before he could speak, another voice rang out from the other side of the road. "Jesus, son of David! I beg you--try my falafel!" Jesus turned and saw a woman, equally haggard and distraught, plying her g
rainy confections as her only source of survival.
Jesus was stuck. While he loved loved LOVED gyros, he'd also always wanted to try falafel because it sounded so cool. Its very name rolled gently off his tongue. fu-LAH-full.*
Jesus kicked himself inwardly. "Dang it! I wish to myself that I hadn't talked so much about leaving everything to follow me. If I just had a few more denari--then I could buy both!"**
After his internal shouting match was over, the Lord stopped and prayed. "Father, let your will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give me wisdom to know which local fare to purchase with my limited cash."
Instantly, the clouds parted and a beam of light pierced the eastern sky. Both vendors were blinded by the light of God's glory and shuddered when His voice boomed majestically from the heavens. "My Son--in you, I am well pleased. Look upon your wrist and thou wilt find thine answer." As the heavens rolled back into place, Jesus pulled back the right sleeve of his robe to uncover his wrist. "Of course!" he exclaimed to the Heavens. "WWJD! What Would Jesus Do?"
After pondering the reflective question emblazoned on his fashionable rainbow-colored bracelet, Jesus knew just what to do. Turning to face both people at the same time, Jesus raised his hands in blessing, saying, "My children--your sins are forgiven you." He then turned the stones into croissants and peaced out for J-town.
This story was written by Enoch to illustrate a timeless principle--we humans, especially guys if I can be gender-stereotypical, are awful at following our own good advice. If you came and asked me about what to do in your dating relationship, you'd get the most wise and laid-back insight ever. I am a stud when it comes to giving advice.*** However, if you watched my life because you thought, "Hey, Josh is a wise guy who gives really good advice--let's watch him actually do a relationship," then you would be greatly disappointed (just as I usually am).
Because of this apparent fault in my person, it has become necessary for me to develop coping mechanisms. After years of angrily beating my head into a wall after doing something stupid that I knew in advance was wrong, I decided a couple weeks ago to follow the Jesus parable for myself.
Anytime I'm in a quandary now, I simply ask my advice-giving alter-ego for wisdom. He's super cool and really chill, kind of like the Godfather. I call him The Godfather. He's the guy that everyone waits in line for years to talk to, like the Dalai Lama. He just sits there, calm and collected, couchant on his plush sofa doling out advice while sipping a strawberry lemonade from the dimly-lit recesses of a billiards room filled with quietly humming air-hockey tables and long-since inoperable vintage pinball machines from the early 70s. I come to him with my concerns, and he answers them easily, even flippantly.
"Godfather...should I call my girlfriend right now? I know I just talked to her last night, but I miss her a bunch. Is it a good idea, or am I being too clingy? I've been feeling a little bit like she wants some space, but I don't think it's unreasonable for me to call her. What do you think? You are so wise, dear Godfather. Should I call her?"He interrupts sucking on his lemon slice to acknowledge my question with a glance. "No," he says, finally.
"Oh, thank you, Godfather! You are so wise! I knew, deep down, that's what I ought to do, but I just needed someone to say it to me. If I can ever do anything--"
He then shoes me away with a hand gesture and two big oily guys drag me away as I grovel at his feet. Yes, it's a little embarrassing but it's effective, and as long as I can do that on the inside, I don't have to look like an idiot to everyone else.
If you'd like to speak to The Godfather about your own relational problems, then be my guest. He gives wonderful advice, but just know that when he asks you to "go to the mattresses" for him, he's not asking you to pick up a Sealy Posturepedic for his ailing mother.
*What the Lord didn't know is that falafel is, in fact, disgusting.
**It's apparent at this point why this story is found in the Apocrypha and not the real Bible.
***I say this jokingly but humbly believing I actually do give really good advice.
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