A week or so later, I told a therapist about it all, and he asked me, “What do you think Jesus would think of you being there like that, in that bar texting that woman?” I thought about it for a second. “Well, the Jesus I grew up learning about would be ashamed of me, embarrassed for me. He’d probably walk by the bar on the way to preach or care for the sick and say something like, ‘You just performed in a church, you call yourself a Christian, and you’re here at a bar, trying to entice some married woman to meet up with you? Hypocrite. I’m embarrassed of you.’ ” My therapist listened and then
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