WWJED?

Do you remember when folks everywhere started wearing those "What Would Jesus Do?" bracelets? They were quite the thing in certain circles. The idea of course was to ask ones self this important question when at a crossroads in life. The sentiment is alright I think. Jesus was a good guy no matter what horrible things his groupies have done. I imagine some overfed, Milquetoast minister types getting together and bemoaning the moral state of America's youth in the mid-nineties. They settled on developing a campaign to keep the kids on the straight and narrow. What would Jesus do? Or "WWJD?" (because its shorter and looks cooler). They thought if a young person is in a fight with a friend, before he throws a punch he will stop and ask himself, "What would Jesus do?" Of course we all know the answer to that. Jesus would turn the other cheek. As a professed pacifist, this seems pretty good to me. We could have people everywhere, young and old, looking down at their WWJD? bracelets and choosing not to do violence, or gossip, or steal. This planet could use more of that. The problems arise when a person finds herself in a situation where the books of the New Testament fail to provide a precedent.

For example, a couple months ago I was flying to New York City from London. While waiting to board the aircraft, as I was quietly and intently reading a British women's magazine, a young man sat down across from me and began to make an attempt at conversation. Woe to those lovely people who designed the rows of chairs in airline waiting areas to be facing each other. It was slow going to say the least. As an introvert, it requires much effort for me to make small talk with strangers; still, I hung in there and discovered various and sundry details about his life...he was living in London...he worked in computers. He didn't ask me much about myself, and as he was not the most riveting of storytellers, there were long uncomfortable pauses when I was wracking my soon to be jettlagged brains for something to say. The important fact to note here is that I tried. I sensed that this man wanted to talk to someone, and I looked inside myself and summoned up strength of will to be compassionate to him. After all, isn't that what Jesus would do? Later on when he came by to ask if he could sit with me in my comfortable row of emergency exit seats, which I had all to myself, I graciously obliged. Despite wanting to curl up for a nap, I was feeling pretty good about my benevolence at this point. "This guy has no idea he's sitting next to the big JC in the flesh," I thought to myself. While I was basking in the glow of goodwill and listening to my travel partner explain the beauty of LINUX, I looked down at my hand and saw that he was holding it. Or rather, caressing it would be more to the point. Now here I was in a potentially compromising situation, and as I scrambled over the hills and eddies of my mind searching for guidance, I realized that Jesus wasn't going to be much help. On one level, the Bible would seem to look down upon trashy girls who get cozy with perfect strangers on public transportation. Yet, I was also conscious of the fact that we as Christians are supposed to act out of love and compassion. Would hastily tearing my hand away send this poor young man into a tailspin of depression? I imagined he must be a bit unhinged to be fondling a strangers hand in public in the first place. What if he made a mad dash for the nearby emergency exit door and we were all sucked out into a miserable and frightening death? Unfortunately, in the time I had taken to ponder my situation, the young man in question had moved up to my wrist and started to lean towards me. "What in the world is he doing!?" was my desperate internal scream. Then his intentions quickly became all to clear. I shrank back into the corner by the window and covered my face with my hands just in time to avoid a rather unwanted, and I imagine what would have been, unpleasant kiss. It seems my inactivity in the handholding phase of our short relationship had led our young hero to imagine that I was game for more. There is no telling what he might have had in mind as his end goal! No doubt it would have involved cramming into one of those unsanitary closets that pass for bathrooms on airplanes. I shudder to think.

Gentle reader I implore you, what should I have done? Without Jesus to give me a clear answer, I was adrift in a sea of possible reactions. Since that rather awkward six hours, I spent not a little time pondering ways I could have behaved differently to avoid that near catastrophe. Then one afternoon as I was drinking a cup of tea, like a message from an angel whispered in my ear, I had an answer. All the time it was sitting on my bookshelf protected by a frayed forest green hardcover. "What Would Jane Eyre Do?" the book by Charlotte Bronte seemed say in a quiet, unassuming voice from the corner of my room. I took another sip of tea. My favorite book, and my most admired heroine would provide me with all I would ever need to navigate life's trials. Unlike Jesus, Jane Eyre was headstrong and opinionated. She messed things up sometimes, and she fell in love with a married man who's mad wife was hidden up in the tower. If Jane had been on that airplane, I have no doubt she would have withdrawn her hand immediately and informed her suitor that she was not the kind of young lady to be compromised in such a manner. "Yes, I believe this new outlook is going to be singularly life changing," I thought as I paced the length of my room. Jane's life was full of mystery and dark passions and wandering across damp moors. It all sounds a lot more attractive than getting nailed up to a cross at 33.

From now on I vow to ask myself, "What would Jane Eyre Do?" (WWJED? for short) whenever I find myself at a crossroads. To those readers who have born with me thus far, I will not be offended if you too choose to make Jane your worthy example. Nevertheless, I challenge you to find your own individuals to call upon in times of duress. Perhaps the Dali Lama would be helpful? I can imagine very fetching t-shirts saying "WWTDLD?" What about another literary character? Elizabeth Bennet or Holden Caufield? The possibilities are endless, and as long as you don't choose Paris Hilton I imagine you will fair admirably well.