Theologicial apprehension

Something I’ve just realised – I’m the same age now as when Jesus was crucified.

Sobering stuff in itself, but when you have an over active imagination then it gets worse.

I remember in school one of the “things about Jesus” that was pushed a lot was how he knew what it was like to experience what we experienced, because he’d grown up, been there, done it. Now that’s kinda comforting when you’re a teenager and seemingly incapable of stopping looking at girls, but now I’m 33 its placebo-like comfort seems to have worn out.

What happens next year when I’m 34? Jesus didn’t experience being 34. Does that mean I’m on my own now, making it up as I go along? Do I get a shrug of the shoulders from the son of man, saying “Don’t ask me, I didn’t do 34”?

Can’t decide if this means that I’ve struck on a theological problem that wouls stump all theologians from Anselm to Bonhoeffer, or that I really am as utterly self-obsessed as I sometimes think I might be.


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