Sometimes I think Jesus gets a bad rap.

He reminds me of those musicians who began playing because they loved the sound of music but then everyone started calling them a “God” . . .and they were eventually led astray by either their agents or the rest of the guys in the band . . . and succumbed to the peer pressure of insipid lyrics, increased radio-play and high-priced tickets.

But it’s not fair to call Jesus a sell-out when he’s not actually here to make his own decisions.

Lucky for him, there exist busloads of devout followers who have taken it upon themselves to start their own churches and expose the teachings of Jesus without the baggage (or divisive agents and personalities) which seems to weigh down Christianity.

But the fact that I instinctively cringe when I see WWJD bracelets, or that I measure my words much more carefully when I’m with someone who has a cross around their neck, says that Christianity is still failing to spread the message about love and forgiveness. Because when faced with confident tokens of faith, I either categorize people as ultra-conservative or sit in fear of judgment from them. Somehow, Christianity has been taken to an extreme, encrusted with Teflon, repelling instead of replenishing.

I believe Jesus is actually ABOUT love and acceptance and forgiveness. And I’ll tell you why. About six years ago, Barb Kiebel, a dear friend and strong woman who used to serve me spiked lemonade and Marlboro Lights on her back porch when I was first starting my business, lent me a book called Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time. She was involved in her church—an open community where lectures on Islam were not considered threatening, even in 2002.

Upon reading the book, I was somewhat surprised to discover that Jesus, this guy from Nazareth, and religion, the Catholicism I’d grown to be suspicious of, were often two very different things.

However, let’s be clear about where I’m standing. It’s on the bottom rung. I’m talking about Jesus, the man. Not Jesus the divine son at the right hand of the father who will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. Not the giver of life. Not the one whose kingdom will not end. Not Him.

Just an inspiring guy who has happened to have the biggest following of all time.

Since we’ve come to Beirut and began working for Inma Foundation, I feel I’m meeting Jesus yet again. Among other beliefs, at the very minimum, the staff of this organization follow his teachings. And it’s evident within their community. These people are balanced human beings who give of their time and resources without seeking something in return. They empower without controlling. They exude goodness without making me sick. They don’t really gossip. They make me want to be a better person.

This has been a recurring theme as we explore the earth. We’ve been part of “an economy where sharing is the primary currency,”(thanks Jen Lemen) as we couchsurf, hitchhike and rely on the kindness of strangers. We have become more aware of the impact of our own energy on others. About the sky-high value of old-fashioned, but evergreen kindness.

Funny, eh? How after so much meditative, deep-sea-diving into my soul, that life’s little sevens or twos or nines (or whatever you happen to need in your game of Go Fish) are not found in some spiritual temple amid the silence, but in a bomb-common place like Beirut, amid the chaos of Christianity and Islam.