Picture Not So Perfect
“Come to me all you who thirsty, come to the waters Isaiah 55:1a
There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Matthew 17:2
Our pastor often bemoans the fact that there are very few good artistic renderings of Jesus, his apostles or the saints. He’s right. Some depictions of the apostles have them look dazed and confused. In others they look useless. Most of the saints look, oh I hope this isn’t sacrilegious, creepy and certainly ill-equipped to do anything but gaze into the sunset. And poor Jesus! I’ve never seen a picture of what looks like a typical Jewish guy. Jesus gets a whole lot of sappy treatment too. Once in awhile there is a strapping, wide smiling Jesus and while those are great pictures, I’m betting they fall very short on accuracy points. Our pastor seems to object most viscerally at the sappy Jesus pictures and I get that. Is this the guy that took all that torture? I don’t think so!
Yesterday there was a small picture of Jesus in the corner of the song lyrics on our screen. It was of Jesus in the clouds, all in white with his sleeves billowing and his hair blowing back. The picture wasn’t great but it made a great impression on me. There was Jesus, with his arms wide open, calling us to run into them. The idea is extremely inviting, isn’t it? What could be better than to be welcomed into the open arms of Jesus? Still, he was wearing a flowy white dress. That, oddly enough is what got my attention. The man, Jesus, is the epitome of strength and courage. He is everything we need him to be and more. Those arms can, did and do, hold the weight of the world. That all by itself could be a bit intimidating. But dress that man in a long, fluttering white robe and he takes on an approachable softness. Suddenly the image evokes thoughts of running into the arms of a dearly loved grandmother. Now the picture isn’t weak or sappy. Now it’s comfort at its finest. Isn’t that Jesus?
I still agree with my pastor. It does seem like someone, somewhere could do a better job but then again, we have no idea, really what Jesus looked like. We know he wasn’t attractive, whatever that meant in his day. (Isaiah 53:2) Maybe he was a bit thin for the times or maybe his features were too narrow and fine compared to his countrymen. Maybe he had an actual defect. I don’t know. What I do know is that looking at him with his arms open, clean and bright, eyes clear, heart tuned to mine, I want to run into those arms and I do not want them to feel as if they are made of steel.
That picture wasn’t perfect but it was perfect for me, in the moment. The idea that Jesus is both the strong courageous defender and the warm loving brother is lovely. It gives me the idea that our Father in heaven, mighty, awesome, powerful and perfect, is also in possession of things we often attribute to mothers, tenderness, compassion, forgiveness and mercy.
There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Matthew 17:2
Our pastor often bemoans the fact that there are very few good artistic renderings of Jesus, his apostles or the saints. He’s right. Some depictions of the apostles have them look dazed and confused. In others they look useless. Most of the saints look, oh I hope this isn’t sacrilegious, creepy and certainly ill-equipped to do anything but gaze into the sunset. And poor Jesus! I’ve never seen a picture of what looks like a typical Jewish guy. Jesus gets a whole lot of sappy treatment too. Once in awhile there is a strapping, wide smiling Jesus and while those are great pictures, I’m betting they fall very short on accuracy points. Our pastor seems to object most viscerally at the sappy Jesus pictures and I get that. Is this the guy that took all that torture? I don’t think so!
Yesterday there was a small picture of Jesus in the corner of the song lyrics on our screen. It was of Jesus in the clouds, all in white with his sleeves billowing and his hair blowing back. The picture wasn’t great but it made a great impression on me. There was Jesus, with his arms wide open, calling us to run into them. The idea is extremely inviting, isn’t it? What could be better than to be welcomed into the open arms of Jesus? Still, he was wearing a flowy white dress. That, oddly enough is what got my attention. The man, Jesus, is the epitome of strength and courage. He is everything we need him to be and more. Those arms can, did and do, hold the weight of the world. That all by itself could be a bit intimidating. But dress that man in a long, fluttering white robe and he takes on an approachable softness. Suddenly the image evokes thoughts of running into the arms of a dearly loved grandmother. Now the picture isn’t weak or sappy. Now it’s comfort at its finest. Isn’t that Jesus?
I still agree with my pastor. It does seem like someone, somewhere could do a better job but then again, we have no idea, really what Jesus looked like. We know he wasn’t attractive, whatever that meant in his day. (Isaiah 53:2) Maybe he was a bit thin for the times or maybe his features were too narrow and fine compared to his countrymen. Maybe he had an actual defect. I don’t know. What I do know is that looking at him with his arms open, clean and bright, eyes clear, heart tuned to mine, I want to run into those arms and I do not want them to feel as if they are made of steel.
That picture wasn’t perfect but it was perfect for me, in the moment. The idea that Jesus is both the strong courageous defender and the warm loving brother is lovely. It gives me the idea that our Father in heaven, mighty, awesome, powerful and perfect, is also in possession of things we often attribute to mothers, tenderness, compassion, forgiveness and mercy.
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