So, Jesus wrote a book.  The problem was, no one really would want to read the whole thing.  Well, it wasn't that so much, it was just that if people read the book, they would feel weird.  It would kill all their usual joy.  So, if they were to come back to talk to this nice guy Jesus, there would be a problem, in that they just wanted fun and happiness and the usual, not too deep, not too much a think about things in depth kind of a matter.  Jesus, the buzz kill.  Jesus, the tiresome.  Jesus, who has put a damper on our relationship.  It was fine until he shared his literary achievements with us.

It was pretty much this half assed situation, where the old polite Jesus who had a job and a recognizable place in society, but had revealed the complications of living, of being a human being, with some sense of the deeper truth, of such things like mortality, etc., etc., where Jesus felt a need to do something new, which would of course entail leaving that sort of place he had inhabited, thoughtful, kind, but unable to tell the truth, smiling for the sake of the usual economic stuff.

What Jesus wrote was akin to the very opposite of all commercials.