![]() ![]() ![]() But you have to admit that such a thing does sometimes happen in our other important relationships. What if it really was Jesus? What if, up close and personal, Jesus turns out to be a figure sold to me by the church’s public relations machine? Would I someday discover that what I believed about Jesus had all been a carefully manufactured façade? Like a celebrity who has evaded his handlers, would he prove to be only ordinary in the end? What if the light that had blinded me on the road to Damascus was only the flash of the paparazzi’s cameras? Or, perhaps even worse, what if I got to know the real Jesus and realized that I didn’t especially like him? I know that such a question is unimaginable to most evangelicals. Then, for a brief moment, I felt a stab of panic. No, I get surfer dude Jesus with blow-dried hair and dental implants. That’s just the sort of Jesus who would appear to me.” Not the Jesus I read about in the gospels. I have to confess that my first thought was, “Yeah, that’s about right. When at last I realized that what he was saying to me was only gibberish, I woke up. But it was the conversation that bothered me most. He looked like the host from a TV morning show. He grinned at me, his white teeth shining in the dark. For one thing, he had blond hair that looked like it had been shaped by a stylist. ![]() He didn’t look like I had imagined he would. He sat at the end of my bed and spoke to me. Then one night I had a dream about Jesus. I wondered why Jesus didn’t appear to me too. The two had long and meaningful conversations. I had a friend in college who said that Jesus appeared to her in her dreams. ![]()
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