In the tapestry of the Christian tradition, Jesus is often depicted in grand strokes: the Sermon on the Mount, the calming of the storm, the raising of Lazarus. These are the dramatic peaks that define a life unlike any other. Yet, the Gospels also depict a Jesus who toiled alongside his followers, a man intimately familiar with the rhythm of the ordinary. He was a carpenter by trade, a profession defined by routine and physical labor.
We, however, tend to place Jesus on a pedestal, separate from the humdrum routines of our own lives. We scroll through social media, answer emails, fold laundry, all the while feeling distant from the divine. But perhaps this is a misunderstanding. Perhaps it’s in the very midst of our daily routines that Jesus speaks most clearly.
Imagine Jesus in a modern-day office cubicle, surrounded by flickering computer screens. The hum of conversation and the clatter of keyboards would be a far cry from the lapping waves of the Sea of Galilee, yet the essence of discipleship might remain unchanged. Here, too, Jesus could be teaching his followers about patience, about perseverance, about finding dignity and purpose in honest work.
Or picture him alone at a brightly lit fast-food restaurant, earbuds in, listening to music on his phone. Even in this solitary scene, there is a potential for connection. Perhaps Jesus, in his infinite empathy, understands the loneliness that can permeate even the most technologically connected lives.
The truth is, Jesus’ message of love and compassion transcends time and circumstance. The divine doesn’t become mundane simply because it intersects with the mundane. In fact, it might be in the quiet moments of our ordinary lives that we encounter the divine most profoundly.
So the next time you find yourself lost in the scroll of TikTok, or zoning out in front of the TV, take a pause. Consider it an opportunity to practice patience, to find contentment in the present moment, to connect with something larger than yourself. After all, isn’t that what Jesus, the carpenter, the fisherman, the friend, would have wanted?