I often see the bumper sticker that reads “Are you following Jesus this close?”
My first thought is that somewhere my wife Jenny is dying because it’s supposed to read, “Are you following Jesus this closely?” Jenny is full of grace and love, but has a difficult time extending that to grammar mistakes. (Pray for her please.)
I am willing to overlook the missing ly, but my second thought upon seeing this sticker is usually this:
Actually, I am following Jesus this close. In fact he lives in my heart, so I’m completely baffled by the proposition of your bumper sticker. Is this like that scene in Austin Powers when the Scottish character says ‘Get in my belly!’ (Keeping it relevant.) Are you asking me to get in your heart? I have to imagine you mean lyrically, much in the same way Bobby Brown’s song “Tender Roni,” gets in your heart and refuses to leave. (Two for two on topical!)
If it’s not that, which I suppose it must not be, what are you saying to me?
Is this some sort of weird invitation to live in the backseat of your Toyota Camry? I went to college. I’ve slept in cars before. That is no treat my friend. I have to refuse kindly.
What option does that really leave us? Trunks are pretty uncomfortable as well and dangerous. If that’s what you’re suggesting, that I climb in your car trunk, I fear we’re once again at odds. I don’t want to get in your car trunk and you would prefer that I do. Let’s agree to disagree.
Or perhaps it’s just the opposite, you actually want me to back away from you in traffic and tail gait Jesus instead. Is he commuting today? Are you intimating that should I but crane my neck I might notice him in the right hand lane, driving, what I can only imagine is a burro, and I should follow him instead? But that’s unlikely, because once you’ve ascended there’s no way you’re driving on the Interstate again. You think Elijah or sah, whichever one got the fire chariot ride, is ever getting in a Kia after that? You can’t Sorento after you’ve fire chariotted.
It’s all rather perplexing.
Perhaps if I follow closely for a few more miles, this riddle will solve itself. Feel free to do what I do when someone is tail gaiting me, drive slower. I’m almost positive that tail gaiting is a silent cry from the people behind you to slow down. But don’t quote me on that. I might be misinterpreting that. I’m not following Jesus that closely.
Have you ever seen this bumper sticker?