What Would Bobble-Head Jesus Do?

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I don’t care if it rains or freezes

‘Long as I got my plastic Jesus

Riding on the dashboard of my car

Through my trials and tribulations

And my travels through the nations

With my plastic Jesus I’ll go far

–  “Plastic Jesus” by George Cromarty and Ed Rush, later rewritten by Ernie Marrs

 

Listening to Jazz music turns me into a bobble-head doll.  Normally, I’m not a fan of jazz.  It defies definition.  I cannot predict the next note, which is exactly why my only choice is to bob my head in unthinking rhythm with the musician’s fleet fingers.

 

I’m not a fan of jazz music, but I am a fan of going out with my husband.  Lately, we’ve enjoyed “Jazz Martini Night” at a local joint.  Each Sunday evening, The Badlander bar turns down the fluorescents, strikes a match to thirty votive candles, and lets the haphazard beats of big base, acoustic guitar, and soft cymbals settle folks into a Sunday slow down.  The classy tang of Manhattan comes to town, and I slip into my heels and tap my feet to the beat of Madison Street.

 

On a recent Sunday night, as I sat there tapping and bobbing, I thought of the classic country song “Plastic Jesus.”  Sometimes, divine help comes from odd places.  Say, for example, in a bar.  Listening to jazz.  Drinking a dry martini.  But, help always comes when I need it the most.

 

Today, I need help now.  A dark tenor has settled over our household.  My husband, Frank, lost his job last week.  In this current economic down-spiral, that’s disconcerting news.  But, even worse, the way it all went down has broken our hearts.

 

Frank worked for a non-profit that anchors our local-food/sustainability community in Missoula.  We’ve always believed in the mission of this place.  Frank’s chance to work in their bakery felt, to me, like coming home.  These were my peeps.  Every morning, the most educated, gifted workforce of pizza makers, cookie bakers, and deli chefs would plug some funky groove into the CD player and prepare delicious, wholesome food for our town.  Frank loved baking breads with his colorful co-workers, and I think they loved him, too.  In fact, his supervisor praised Frank’s decadent wheat-free, sugar-free, vegan chocolate coconut cake.  They still sell pieces of that cake.

 

Last week, heartbreak came at the hands of two higher-ups.  Two middle-management supervisors (who do not bake alongside Frank in the kitchen) had cornered, accused, and judged him.  They said Frank stole food.  They said he ditched work without notice.  But their reasoning was obtuse at best.  They refused to listen to the real story behind their assumptions.  They didn’t want to hear about any miscommunication that was the ultimate cause.  They didn’t even write him up.  Frank got a call last Wednesday.  It lasted about two minutes.  “Don’t come to work tomorrow,” he was told.

 

It has been a week.  Today, I can only think, “What would bobble-head Jesus do?”

 

Frank worked alongside exceptional people.  Many of them would roll their eyes at the oft-repeated, “What would Jesus do?”  Not many of them professed to be Christian, but we learned so much from them.  They humbled us; not by judging us, but by showing us more of God, in their own ways.  They enriched our lives with their ideas, stories, and outlooks.

 

In that spirit, by their example, I’d like to ask you to join Frank and me in praying for the two managers behind his firing.  I don’t understand how these managers could execute such swift judgment, without discussion, without a heart towards bettering the whole bakery.  I can only think that they must have been victims of injustice in the past.  Perhaps, having received little mercy, they are unable to give mercy.

 

Please help us break that cycle.  Let’s break the chaotic melody of hurt with a clear chorus of love and forgiveness.  Please lift up these two managers in your hearts and pray however you pray – by keeping them in your thoughts, sending positive vibes their way, or reciting scripture in supplication to God.  Whatever works for you. 

 

Our family does not need retribution in order to move forward.  With your help, we can choose faith over fear. 

 

I think that’s what bobble-head Jesus would do.  He would bob along with us over the pot-holes in the road of life.  He would sway in time to the treacherous turns.  He would remind us that life does not always follow a steady rhythm.

 

And, like the unpredictable music of Jazz Martini Night, bobble-head Jesus would remind us that there’s a time for everything.  A time to work at your favorite business and a time to leave.  A time to look for a new job, and a time to recommit to your current job.  A time to love and a time to forgive.

 
Shelby

Shelby Humphreys recently finished her first book, “Church Picnic:  How God Saved Me from My Religion.”  You can read more at www.shelbyhumphreys.com.

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