Christ on a bike

So the fact is that, for some days now, the Lord Jesus Christ has been rid­ing a bicycle up and down the short cor­ridor between my bed­room and my living-room. Being a rather retro Mes­siah, he appears to favour the clas­sic 1970s-style Raleigh Chop­per bike, the tyres of which are begin­ning to make deep grooves in the cheap car­pet so beloved of rental properties.

Jesus, as he allows me to call him — he merely calls me “dis­ciple” in return — is car­ry­ing out this odd ritual as a slow means of cruel men­tal tor­ture. You see, he wants me for a sun­beam. Jesus wants me for a sun­beam, and he’s not going to take no for an answer. I have told him repeatedly, though: “Jesus!” I have respon­ded. “Listen, Jesus. I don’t want to be a sun­beam. That’s all there is to it.”

But Jesus is not to be diver­ted from his path — which is, being who he is, nat­ur­ally a right­eous path. He did forty days and nights in the desert with some tempt­ing little devil, after all. In com­par­ison, this must be a breeze.

So Jesus has taken action. He has given me a dose of the SADs in order to con­vince me that, hey, hanging around a large yel­low shin­ing object in the sky might not be such a bad deal after all. He tries to flat­ter me with his warm words. Tells me I would make a very good sun­beam. Why? Because. Because he’s Jesus, and he knows what he’s talk­ing about. Don’t I remem­ber how the teach­ers in primary school always used to say that I had a sunny dis­pos­i­tion? They were wrong, of course. But Jesus just has this per­suas­ive way about him.

For bet­ter or worse, I believe I might slowly be com­ing round to the Saviour’s way of think­ing. Praise the Lord and pass me the factor 15. Being a sun­beam has been a lifelong ambi­tion of mine. I just never real­ised it before.

Jesus is now doing wheel­ies in the kit­chen. Bless him.