Jesus, Buddha and Socrates Walk Into a Bar...
It's fun to imagine how that might go. At least, it was fun for me...
Three world changers walk into a bar.
Jesus, Buddha, and Socrates sit side by side on three slightly wobbly stools, sipping quietly on whatever eternity tastes like. The bartender eyes them, raises an eyebrow, and decides to lean in.
“All right,” the bartender says, wiping a glass that doesn’t need wiping. “You’re all finally here at the same time, so I’m going to go for it. How do you find your purpose in life?”
“Define ‘purpose,’” Socrates says, not missing a beat. “Is it something you find—or something you create?”
Jesus smirks. “See, this is why I tell stories.”
Buddha sips his tea. “I usually just say one perfect sentence and then sit in silence.”
“And yet,” Socrates says, “here we are.”
“I think purpose shows up when you love something more than yourself,” Jesus says. “You lose your life... and somehow, that’s when you feel most alive.”
“When you stop chasing and simply are,” Buddha adds, “purpose arises naturally. Like breath. Like stillness. It is already present in you if you silence your search for it.”
Socrates nods. “So it’s less a treasure map, more a mirror. I’ve found that purpose lives close to where discomfort and curiosity overlap.”
Jesus raises his glass. “Look at you—answering things.”
Socrates shrugs. “Don’t get used to it. I am pretty committed to a particular method centered almost exclusively around asking questi—”
“We know!” Jesus and Buddha exclaim in unison.
The bartender chuckles. “Okay, big question number two. What’s the secret to happiness?”
“Letting go of control,” Jesus says. “Joy isn’t a reward—it’s a companion. It shows up when you stop needing everything to go your way.”
“You won’t find it looking for it. It’s the absence of craving,” Buddha says. “No grasping. No running. Just being.”
“What do you think, Mr. Bartender? What is happiness to you?” Socrates leans in.
“Just stop,” Jesus says. “Answer the kid’s question.”
“Fine. I used to think it was knowledge,” Socrates says. “But now I think it’s wisdom. Not knowing more—knowing what matters. And being okay not knowing the rest.”
“Joy’s quieter than people expect,” Jesus adds.
“Yes. And deeper,” Buddha agrees.
Socrates leans back. “So joy is the sound of the soul exhaling?”
“That’s pretty good, my friend,” Jesus admits.
“All right,” the bartender continues, topping off Jesus’ vino, “how do we deal with pain and suffering? ’Cause that’s my real job around here most of the time, if I’m being honest.”
“Tell them to not hide from it,” Jesus says, his tone shifting. “Let it shape you, not define you. Even in my worst moment, I stayed with it. Didn’t escape it. Didn’t numb it. Just… stayed.”
“Pain is part of life. It is life,” Buddha says. “Suffering is what we create when we refuse to accept that. Observe it. Welcome it like a teacher.”
“An unexamined life is a wasted life,” Socrates says. “Pain demands examination. Not as punishment. As invitation.”
“Don’t suffer alone,” Jesus adds. “That’s when it really hurts.”
“Yes,” Buddha says. “But also—don’t expect anyone else to carry it for you.”
“So pain, too, is a paradox,” Socrates muses.
Jesus smiles. “See, you’re finally coming around.”
The bartender leans in with a grin. “All right, final question. And it’s the most important: Star Wars or Star Trek?”
“Star Wars,” Jesus says immediately. “Good vs evil. Redemption arcs. Spiritual weirdos in deserts. Feels familiar.”
“Star Trek,” Buddha replies calmly. “Exploration, diplomacy, peace. Less drama, more thinking.”
“Honestly?” Socrates says. “I am more of a Matrix guy. Questioning reality? Simulated illusions? Come on. It’s basically my autobiography.”
“Of course you’d say that,” Jesus says.
“Obviously,” Buddha adds.
The bartender laughs. “Okay, but if you were in any of them, who would you want to play?”
“Is it cocky to say I’d be The Force?” Jesus asks.
Socrates and Buddha stare at him, unamused.
“I’d be meditating in the engine room of the Enterprise,” Buddha says. “Or maybe Guinan?”
“Who?” Socrates asks.
“Whoopi Goldberg,” Buddha answers.
“Ah. That adds up,” Jesus says with a chuckle.
“I’d be the guy Morpheus recruits but then regrets it immediately,” Socrates offers.
The door creaks open. A tall, brooding figure walks in. Trench coat. Complicated energy. Everything gets a little colder.
“Don’t look now,” Jesus whispers, “but guess who just walked in.”
“Oh no,” Buddha mutters. “That guy’s such a downer.”
“Kierkegaard?” Socrates guesses.
“Worse,” Jesus says. “Nietzsche.”
“Somebody hide the sharp objects,” the bartender mutters.
“Check, please,” says Socrates. “It’s on me. These guys are poor as f—”
“Don’t!” Jesus and Buddha scream in unison.
* This was originally posted on my other Substack, Called For Adventure.
This is the holy crossover episode we didn’t know we needed. Honestly, if more theology classes involved Jesus dropping sitcom timing and Socrates getting roasted by Buddha, I might’ve paid attention in seminary.
Also, “joy is the sound of the soul exhaling”? Damn. That line slipped past my spiritual defenses and hit like a koan wearing cowboy boots.
And yes, Jesus is absolutely The Force. Buddha is Guinan, no debate. And Socrates in The Matrix? Now that’s a sequel I’d show up early for.
P.S. If Nietzsche orders absinthe and starts monologuing, I’m ghosting through the bathroom window.
"I’ve found that purpose lives close to where discomfort and curiosity overlap." Right now, that's the one that hit me. As a women raised in the Western world, under patriarchy, I feel like a lot of my curiosity was squished out of me. Discomfort, however is old hat, mostly everyone else's, left for me to fix.
Finally, into my sixth decade, and as a single woman, I'm gaining some curiosity and dealing with my own discomforts. It's been good, holy, powerful. Sometimes lonely. And God isn't done with me yet, I still have purpose. Maybe by the time I hit 70, I'll have a better handle on it.