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Oh, Jesus, You Troublemaker.

Oh, Jesus, You Troublemaker.

Last updated on: September 16, 2016 at 8:43 am by Kerry Connelly

Oh, Jesus, You Troublemaker. 2016-09-16T08:43:36-04:00 Kerry Connelly

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One of the most challenging things about being a Jesus Freak is all the people.

I don’t really like people all that much. I love people, but I don’t really like them. Mostly.

There are a number of reasons for this. First, as I discovered when I got my tattoo, I learned a fascinating little tidbit about myself: I’m pretty much always afraid. I have this weird belief that operates somewhere in my brain, probably toward the back and a little bit to the left, that there is a secret behavioral code that everyone knows except me. Anytime I am presented with a new situation in which I must interact with people, I am sure that not only am I missing this code, but that I will also completely offend the code.

There’s also the fact that I hate making small talk. I really hate it. I’d much rather dig in and have a deep conversation — What’s the purpose of your soul? Who is God to you? Do you understand particle theory and if so, can you explain it in terms that will make sense to me? What is your greatest pain? Do you think Jesus was in love with one of the Marys? — than talk about the weather or the latest celebrity shenanigans.

I also tend to say things that piss people off or make them feel uncomfortable. I’m so not the kind of Christian who hands out tracts or wears sandwich boards that scream REPENT!. I’m more the type of Jesus Freak who, well, has piercings and now a tattoo, which obviously means I’m super cool. As in, I’m so not really cool at all. And that not-coolness leads me to not really hide the fact that I’m a Jesus Freak, which really makes some people uncomfortable.

I’m also the kind of happy gal who asks of her boss (when I had a boss), Hey, how come you only ask the women in the office — regardless of their title or position — to answer the phones when the receptionist is out? I mean, you’re asking two women who are directors of departments to answer the phone when there’s a male teenage intern in the creative office? Really?

That was such a comfortable conversation.

I’m the one who writes to the school principle, when they send a letter home about the spring concert and it says, Girls should be dressed appropriately. Yeah, I’m the one who writes the email and says, But it’s cool if boys wear bananas on their heads?

Are we really going to assume that 5th grade girls are so sexual they can’t be trusted to dress appropriately? That all the little 5th grade boys and, you know, the grown-ass men in the room will be so distracted by 5th grade knee caps, thighs and shoulders that if they aren’t covered, the whole thing will dissolve into a school-sanctioned orgy?

Oh, wait. You just meant the girls shouldn’t wear bananas on their heads.

This is the sort of thing that makes people’s eyes inexplicably roll when my back is turned — this sarcasm of mine and this calling out of certain things. This is the sort of thing that gives me a reputation.

It’s also the kind of thing that brings out the trolls. All sorts of them. People I’m tempted to call a whole lot of names but CRAP. I’m supposed to love them. Damn it all to hell (as Gram used to say).

This is when I wish I wasn’t a Jesus Freak. Because people.

There are times when I wish — I really, really wish — I could just stay silent. I wish justice wasn’t such a thorn in my side. I wish I could just ignore it like so many people do. Just say, “Meh, the lesser of two evils is okay.”

That’s such a huge crock of hot steaming shit I can’t even begin. I just can’t.

The lesser of two evils is no, not okay. It’s so far away from okay, it might as well be on the maybe-I’m-a-planet-maybe-I’m-not orb we call Pluto.

I wish I could let the racist jokes slide. I wish I could just let the misogyny go. I wish I could pretend we don’t have a problem with cops shooting first and asking later, or judges that let white rapists go because prison might be a little too hard on their pale white asses. I wish I didn’t know that tiny little racist and sexist jokes told in private have everything to do with the systemic and institutionalized injustices that we see play out every day in our news streams, our streets, and yes, even our churches. Especially our churches.

In this video below by, once again, The Work of The People, Simone Campbell (of Nuns On A Bus fame) talks about Holy Mischief, about how indeed, Jesus runs toward trouble. He runs toward the outcast, he gives voice to the silenced, he feeds and cares for the refugee.

Jesus is a troublemaker, and I love him all the more for it. He’s got that holy mischief in his eye, that way of subverting every high thing.

The way he uplifted, loved, and treated women as equals.

The way he loved the “unclean” — the refugee, the smelly masses, the ones who didn’t even love him back.

The ones who called him names.

Oh, Jesus. Help me to love people like this, even when I don’t really like them.

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