My own personal Jesus: Can he be trusted?
My earliest memory of Jesus is as a Sunday school flannelgraph cut-out. I can’t tell you how old I was at the time, but I recall Jesus resembled the version described by former Fox News host Megyn Kelly as “a white man … as is Santa,” except he wore a pale blue robe with a burgundy sash.
There I sat, crisscross applesauce, in a crescent moon of other impressionable children, watching Jesus slide across the fuzzy board, working miracles and reminding people to love their neighbors as themselves.
My teacher’s descriptions of Jesus were as flat as the cutout itself. Jesus was good, Jesus was God and Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.
It wasn’t much information, but it was enough to spark an interest that continued into adolescence. Over time, a third dimension was added to my two-dimensional image from directly encountering Jesus in my life. These lived experiences have kept me walking the so-called Jesus Way for the last quarter-century.