Jesus: The Rolling Stone Interview

Recently we caught up with Jesus Christ on his way to save a troubled soul that he asked we not divulge though he did agree to answer several questions. This is the first published interview with Jesus since Thomas the Apostle (aka, Doubting Thomas) conducted one and I'm honored to be the first in over 2000 years to do it again.

He wanted to meet on the Pier before he walked on water to his appointment dressed in a white robe with a red sash. Blond hair was neatly coiffed, as was his beard, and his steely blue eyes carefully considered every question before answering.

Jesus, thank you for making time for this. Everyone knows how busy you are so let's right to the questions. Beatles or Stones?

"I love 'Sympathy for the Devil' by the Stones. That song always kills me! And 'The Girl with Far Away Eyes' makes me laugh out loud. But ... it's The Beatles! They bring a Hymn like quality to most everything. So ... yeah it's Beatles all the way."

So were the Beatles really more popular that you?

"Oh sure! For a while anyway."

Speaking of Hymns, what's your fav?

"Wow! That's a good question. Well ... I know it's not 'The Old Rugged Cross' ... cause that thing hurt like Hell! ... 'Jesus loves me' is really a manipulative request to get me to always look the other way ... but I'd have to say 'To God be the Glory' because it really is all about God ... oh! ... and 'Let it Be'."

Thanks for opening that door. We all know that God is the Father but who the heck is the Holy Ghost? Your brother? Some long lost uncle?

{Jesus laughs}. "We do have an unorthodox family tree. The answer to your questions are ... 'Yes.'"

Fair enough. Okay, next question ... How do you feel when people thank you at the Grammys?

"I don't really like much of the new stuff these days. It's mostly just MUZAC! The last time I really cared was when Helen Reddy won for 'I am Woman, hear me roar.' That was some good stuff! I suppose it's nice that people thank me but honestly, I think it's mostly crap."

Praise music is very popular in today's church services. Do you like it?

"It's kind of like Mick Jagger isn't it? Holding up hands and dancing around ... it's a lot like church ... if it makes people feel better I'm all for it ... but it's nothing I especially care about."

We've run out of time and I know you have to go but ... one more question?

"Sure but make it quick."

Thank you.

"Who wins the next Survivor?"

Our Journey Begins

"The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet."

That's what Lao Tzu said, though we've changed it to the journey beginning with a the first step.

There are two different meanings.

Taking the first step of a journey involves will power, determination, action, putting one foot in front of another and moving towards ... or away ... from something ... or someone.

A journey getting started under one's feet means action arises from stillness ... it's contemplation ... praying ... wondering ... coming to terms with what's next.

I understand why the sayings been changed ... we find it hard to sit still.

It's better to take control ... be in charge ... ask for forgiveness rather than permission ... kick ass and take names!

It's harder to wait ... be quiet ... listen ... feel what's right ... be grounded ... imagine what's coming before it happens ... know what's next.

Some days I just don't know how to start.

Getting up, I stumble to the outdoor shower, baptize myself as the sun begins to bubble from the sea and begin to come to life.

With more vigor I walk up the stairs, kiss my sleeping wife, dress, throw the dogs a treat and head for coffee with friends.

Half-an-hour later I'm home, sitting on the Beloved Back Deck, ready to start.

Some days, it's easy ... like the other night my Guardian Angel came in a dream to show me how "Purple Jesus" is made.

Other days ... I have no idea.

I sit and wait.

Then something happens ... a saying I haven't thought of in years pops into my head ... it strikes me as apropos to where Sarah and I are in life so I look it up and ... it's exactly the right thing to think about at exactly the right time.

The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet.

It's our quiet time as ... we wait ... we're silent ... we're listening ... we're feeling for what's right ... grounding ourselves in one another ... imagining together ... coming to know what's next ... falling deeper in love.

Soon we'll be taking control ... in charge of whatever it is ... needing nobody's permission ... kicking some royal ass and ticking off their names.

But it's not that time yet.

It's still the marvelous moments when the ground shakes beneath our feet ... quivering with anticipation ... the same Holy ground Moses stood upon before the Journey to the Promised Land.
_____________________________

To signify the coming Promised Land, a prophet visited our house the other day. Jonah affirms we're doing the right things at the right time. That's him standing between us.

Cleaning Up Christ

In Bantry Bay, Ireland I got up early and joined a group to attend Mass.

I like Catholic Mass.

Back when I was a "Professional Christian" employed as a Southern Baptist minister, I often attended Mass at St. Martin de Tours Catholic Church in Louisville, Kentucky where my friend Father Vernon Robertson was the Priest.

I did the readings and got to know the Liturgy and to this day I have a fondness for Mass.

When I miss organized religion I'll often find my way into a Catholic Church and celebrate the Eucharist.

I've been to Bar Church on Tybee Island several times over the past year but here I am in Ireland with a bunch of Irish Catholics so I had to go to Mass.

Sarah stayed in bed.

We make our way to St. Fin Barre's Cathedral. 

The Priest was a young red head Irishman who was very serious about things. He never smiled and didn't have any Good News for the several hundred of us in attendance.

He did have a lot of Bad News.

Apparently the Irish are thinking about legalizing abortion which has the Catholic Church in a tizzy because the Bishop wrote a letter for the redheaded Priest to read.

It was a great letter!

The Bishop wrote if abortion is allowed then women can't have boys and then the pool to select Priests from will diminish  and there's already of shortage of Priests so ... everybody go out and make more Priests!

"What'd you think Micheal?" Tony Ryan asks as we make our way back to retrieve the sinners who'd slept through Mass.

"My favorite part is always when the Priest cleans the Chalice after the Eucharist and that red headed boy did a Hell of a job! He cleaned and scrubbed as though, if Jesus really was in there, he was going to get every drop out. It's like cleaning up Christ!"

This was met with stony silence until my friend Bill Shearouse turns, looks me in the eye and says, "What do you mean 'IF'?"

"I was trying to be respectful," Tony chimes in, "so I didn't want to say anything."

"Oh come on," I shoot back. "There's more than one way to look at Transubstantiation (the belief that the wine and the wafer actually become the blood and body of Christ)."

"No there's not," Bill and Tony reply at the same time.

As everyone knows, when it comes to religion, it's often best to keep your mouth shut.

I love Bill Shearouse and like Tony a lot so I nodded in agreement with them.

But I enjoyed Mass immensely, like St. Fin Barr a lot and his Church, laughed at the wicked intensity of the red headed Priest with no Good News and the several hundred good Irish Catholics who stared intently when I passed the collection plate without putting anything in it ... twice!

That'll probably do me for a while in terms of organized religion though eventually I'll start to miss it a little and will hit Bar Church and then likely a Mass somewhere.

Maybe next time Sarah will go with me and I won't offend anybody.

Or maybe I'll just stay in bed with her.

Being the Rev

While the ordination was bestowed upon me by a collection of Southern Baptists, including my Granddaddy, the Rev. Ira V. Carver, the title was given by a bunch of homeless guys.

"Hey Rev," says Sonny Broughton, a tiny little man with a very big mouth.

There were five of them who comprised the inner circle introducing me to the world of homelessness.

Chester Fawbush, Lorenz, Bruce, R.P and Sonny, all homeless, were some of the most funny, conniving, creative and wonderful friends and they're the ones who named me "Rev."

"Hey," I ask strolling into the Church social hall converted into a Day Shelter for people with nowhere to go, "have you been drinking?"

"Naw," the elderly Chester replies, "I've already quit six times today."

The others howl and I have no idea whatsoever how to respond.

It was a magic and wonderful time ... until Chester dies ... Bruce falls off a bridge and drowns ... R.P. disappears and Sonny never wakes up from his bed above the bar.

Senseless deaths made me try harder to save homeless people and for 30 years I gave everything I knew how to not lose anymore.

Somehow the name stuck across time and cities.

"Hey Rev, can you ...?" is how most conversations began.

Of course they gave me every bit as much as I gave them.

Once I wanted to gain entry to a private Republican function with lots of security to keep liberals and other non-believers out and standing on the outside I suddenly see someone I know staring me.

"Hey Rev," she calls wearing clean black pants and a crisp white shirt carrying a case of Scotch, "What in the world are you doing here?"

I explain and smiling she boasts, "I can get you in. Carry this!"

Thrusting the Scotch in my hands she orders, "Follow me."

Leading me to the service elevator we ride to the 3rd floor ballroom and ... I'm in ... standing face to face with Newt Gingrich ... who wants a drink.

"Anytime Rev," she says retrieving the Scotch and walks away.

It pays to be the Rev.

Actually I went from being merely "Rev" to "The Rev" when Chicago Bob so christened me on the Pier at Tybee during a "Bored" meeting.

Johnny O, Trolley Joe, Whitley Reynolds, Dean, Ohio Bob and Chicago Bob and I met on the Pier for cocktails, conversations and lots of lies every chance we had. Judy O, Johnny O's wife, thinks we're boring so she christened us "The Bored Meeting."

"Hey," Chicago Bob says sprinting across the Pier to the bar, "it's the Rev! You look great! Who's your mortician?"

Chicago Bob always thought he was funny and the rest of us play along with it.

So, on island, I'm "The Rev."

I don't have to do much.

There's the occasional wedding or funeral (I did both Chicago Bob's and Trolley Joe's on the same Pier) ... if no one can think of anything to say at a public function they'll call on me (unless a politicians around) ... plus I'm an occasional leader at Bar Church ... and people seek me out privately to counsel, lay on hands and pray or just sit and sip in silence because they need someone.

There's  no money in it but it can be as rewarding as Hell!

So I tell you all of that to tell you this.

My wife Sarah ... plays the piano.