Telltale Jesus Eyes Won't Let You Hide

I’m in trouble, and at stake is nothing less than my soul.

I have a picture of Jesus in my bedroom that creeps people out. His stare follows you around the room. He sees you when you’re sleeping and he knows when you’re awake watching Thighmaster commercials a little too closely. In a certain light, eyes I once thought were loving now look like they’ve seen me gambling in the temple.

Left hand on the Bible: My dog looks in the picture’s direction and growls.

But what am I supposed to do? Isn’t it automatic Hell points if you throw away a Jesus picture? Muslims won’t throw away anything with God’s name on it and Americans respectfully burn their flags, but could I really set Jesus on fire? And even if I buy a kinder-looking Jesus picture to replace it, wouldn’t it be wrong to stuff the old one in a closet, where those eyes can vex us no more?

So I put it to you: WWYDWJ?

What Would You Do With Jesus?

Maybe I shouldn’t worry. It’s only a picture. Sure it’s a picture of Jesus, but it’s just an artist’s interpretation of the Big Guy. He’s white and blue-eyed and well-groomed, and none of those things were common in Nazareth circa 1 A.D.

Jesus looks friendlier in other pictures. Maybe not as jolly as Buddha, but I’ve seen him with a smile as wide as two outstretched arms. I’ve seen him hugging babies and petting sheep. I’ve seen him flexing his biceps to show off a new tatt.

In my pic his hair is long and flowing, freshly dipped in the Euphrates River and obviously conditioned. His mouth is tight, neither smiling nor frowning. He’s got a flaming heart, but not in a Robert Plant way.

But there’s something about those eyes and that “He did what for 30 pieces of silver?” expression that bug some of my friends, my fiancée and apparently my dog, who stares back and growls as if she weren’t 14 pounds and named Sophie.

Sure, there have been times I needed to hide from those unblinking eyes, like the time I ate a Meatlover’s pizza on Good Friday, but it never occurred to me they might be spooky until I started letting Philistines hang out at my place.

This picture has followed me from Midway to Bowling Green to Hopkinsville to Omaha to E’town to Mississippi to Indiana. It’s been like Linus’ blanket when I’m sleeping on top of another doghouse in another unfamiliar state. Those unflinching eyes were a reminder that the real Jesus can see me wherever I am, too.

But it’s getting hard to sleep, what with all the barking and the crushing guilt.
Maybe I could buy a new picture and use this one as a bookmark for my Bible, if I can remember where I put it.

I’m gonna need some penance.

Columnist Jacob Bennett pulled into Nazareth, he was feeling about half past dead. He just needed someplace, where he can lay his head. “Hey, Mister, can ya tell me, where a man might find a bed?” He just grinned & shook Jake’s hand, and “no" was all he said at jacobmbennett@hotmail.com.