The Jesus that I want would only serve me and my own interests and align with my theological leanings and plans and dreams.
The Jesus that I need would serve the people that I forgot existed, who lived outside my best-laid plans and doctrinal camps, and he would just as quickly subvert my interests to care about others’ interests above my own.
The Jesus that I want would probably listen to my music, look like my race, match my Myers Briggs, and fight for my ideology.
The Jesus that I need would knock me over with songs I never knew I craved, enter my culture without condescending or conforming, would accept and challenge who I am, and transcend my time-locked ideas of ideologies.
The Jesus that I want would probably die for people who liked me or were like me or were most likely.
The Jesus that I need died for the people who were nothing like him and he loved them, and even liked them, and he rose to find them. He even rose to find you and me: the least likely, because he’s the love we want, and need.