My Name Is Jesus And I’m A Burnt-Out Gifted Kid
Can anyone relate?
People of Nazareth, thanks for joining me on this mount. I had this thought as I was doom-scrolling on an old papyrus scroll the other day–anyone else here who was a gifted kid back in the day and now just feels so burnt out? Like you had so much drive and potential to be a big time Savior of the World when you were in school and now you’re just, like, tired? Nine-year-old me discussing religion in the town square would have thought I’d have come around a second time by now. And now I’m already 33, and I just feel so burnt out, like I spent all the energy I could give when I was the Christ Child. Anyone relate?
When I was in synagogue school growing up, I did it all. I was president of the fishing club, played four sports including javelin throwing, participated in competitive dance, all while balancing and maintaining a 4.0 GPA with honors classes and a part-time job at Virgin Sacrifices™, cleaning everything up afterwards. Looking back, I can’t believe I did that all and still had time to turn water into wine and have stimulating spiritual conversations with prostitutes and tax collectors. A typical day for me looked like waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go to swim practice in the River Jordan, and the rest of the day was just go, go, go.
But that was the old JC. Right now? I’m in-between jobs. Yeah, I have some promising leads, but healing the blind isn’t the most transferable skill in this tough job market. Honestly, the market is flooded because I raised too many people from the dead and they’ve been taking up a lot of the jobs. So in my free time, I’ve just been smoking grass, hunting, gathering, and playing hacky sack with the guys. But you know what, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Honestly, I feel blessed to be saying that.
I didn’t always feel this at peace, especially when I was growing up. I know there’s some parents out there who think their children are God’s gift to the Earth, and I think I know that better than anyone else here. Before I was even born, it seems like Dad had a plan for me. I’m not one to make a scene but even my birth was considered one. Dad made it very clear I was going to be born in a barn, there were going to be three wise men, and randomly, a drummer boy? Didn’t love that.
It felt like I was treated as some messiah or something, even though my only skill was spitting up. My parents put a ton of pressure on me to be the King of the Jews and like, teach kindness and other things. You can really write a whole book, maybe two, of all their expectations for me. Like, remember swim practice I mentioned earlier? All I wanted was to splash around with my twelve buds at meets in the Sea of Galilee, but my parents insisted that I take walking on water lessons instead to make me stand out in rabbinical school applications. You know how lonely it is being the only person that can walk on water? Not only did I love swimming in the water, I loved drinking it even more. But there goes Dad again saying that I had to turn water into wine. Really, wine? I’m more of an IPA man myself. Really, it’s a miracle I made it to my 30s in the first place.
Then after I finished synagogue school, I just felt like a lost sheep. My whole existence thus far has been grinding it out trying to be the best Light of the World I could be, and now I was on my own. For the first time, I started to think about what I actually wanted, and so I had my sights set on becoming a sommelier, a tarot reader, or a tattoo artist, but unfortunately there weren’t a lot of intellectual jobs like that in Nazareth. So to save some money before hopefully moving to Jerusalem and splitting a three-bed mud hut with two indie roommates with Daddy money, I started working with my stepdad Joseph –but I hated it. You could say I’m more of a creative. I could barely reply to a carpentry client email without wanting to find the key to my stepdad’s stone closet and stone myself.
So I quit. And now, I’m really just trying to slow down and enjoy life. So, I really look forward to what’s next for me. Although I’m getting up there in age, I still feel I have a lot to give to the world. Honestly, at 33, if I realized one thing, it’s that you’re never too young to resurrect yourself into something better. Amen, I say to you.
