I was scanning the radio on the way home the other night, searching for something different. I heard a few good songs, then I heard one that made me stop and think.
The country voice just under my dashboard was wishing he could have a beer with Jesus. Heaven knows he’d sip it nice and slow, and go wherever He wanted to go.
Where I live, preachers still preach against demon alcohol, going into deep dives and abrupt turns, all the while explaining how biblical wine was a barely fermented blend of fruit juice, berries and nuts. It was so lame, in fact, that you’d have to drink 5 gallons of it just to catch a buzz. And yes, people that drink that much have a problem, and shouldn’t be let off the hook too easily. That’s the underlying premise, anyway. And you church members that have the temerity to drink Margaritas in public? No soup for you!
I suppose that to this crowd, just talking about having a beer or two with Jesus would be highly sacrilegious. It would offend their refined sensibilities. Now if we actually had one or two together, we’d both be in for the discussion. I’d like my chances at that point…
But now, he was called the friend of drunks and sinners, was he not? And he came eating and drinking, did he not?
We can take something so clear, and direct, and twist it to our own ends.
And make it bright, and shiny, and untouchable. That’s called an idol, something religion vilifies. Unless it is home-grown, we make it ourselves. Then it’s allowed into the house.
He came to bring His light into this world, not to make it so dauntingly bright that it must stay in the other world.
Jesus did turn water, LOTS of water, into LOTS of wine for a smashing good wedding reception.
I’d like to think that Jesus would in fact take the time to sit and visit with us over a beer or two.
And if He did, I know He’d ask those questions that cause your heart to quake, and read us like a book. And put his finger on those places that we’ve tried so hard to hide, that make us cry, and ask why.
Some may think a song like this takes friendship with Jesus for granted, makes it cheap, and lowers His heavenly station.
I think it actually puts Him right where He has always wanted to be. Here on earth, with you and I, resting in the middle of all that we deal with.
I’ll raise a green bottle to that.