The Ever-Morphing Jesus

[Teresa]

There is a picture of Jesus hanging in the guest room, his expression tender and contemplative, as if he is trying to come to terms with something painful; his large eyes stare left, perhaps seeing a memory of someone or something lost. 

 

It was one of few pictures in your childhood home, the first and favorite image of this genteel Jesus which survived generations of depressed drunks on the cross of the every day, the every hour of need. 

 

You always preferred this Jesus of your childhood, your mother's Jesus with chestnut eyes full of apology and forgiveness, the one that welcomed little children and rode the donkey on palm fronds, healed and saved and died to rise again. 

 

The Jesus of your teen years was the drab version your pigeon-toed aunt Charlene and Tate Springs Baptist Church taught, the Don't Drink/Don't Dance/Skirt at the Knees Jesus, then he turned on a dime when you moved back home, grew solemn and Catholic, a slumped wax figure at tiny St. Paul's with its bad acoustics, pimpled-faced rock band, and deacons with bulbous purple noses. 

 

In your twenties there was the pyramid-shaped Unity Church and minister Howard Ceasar's Jesus, a complex metro-messiah wearing a stained toga and borrowed sandals, the extraterrestrial son of the Father/Mother God, intriguing like Donald Shimoda in Richard Bach's Illusions, flawed like Father Ralph in Thorn Birds, but he expected you to hold hands and sway in the pyramid, came with too much Shirley McClain and Carlos Castanada, so you gave away your meditation books, tossed the Nag Champa incense, and haven't seen Howard or Jesus since.

 

Today there is an old echo of a Jesus you can't feel anymore, a faded image that could be anyone, like so much graffiti in cities gone numb. 

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

Although I can't relate to the cultural aspects of this, it's a damned good (oops!) piece of writing.

[Stephen Torelli]

Yes. Similar to what I expected. Thanks.

[Teresa]

Stephen, according to scholars here:  http://tiaja.ellis.suite101.com/black.jesus.a207375 this is what he looked like.  Broad peasant face.  Curly hair.  Seems reasonable.  He was not a white guy, that's for sure.  I like.

[Angela]

Teresa, I felt that each of these one-sentence glimpses was deserving of its own six-sentence devotion.  Each of these incarnations was one I recognized, especially the last.  I love the reference to graffiti.  He writes on most of us, in one way or another, and we are like those city walls which get painted over but still bear the marks.

[Stephen Torelli]

Actually, I was speaking of the historic figure.

[Stephen Torelli]

Have you ever pondered what he really may have looked like... olive-colored, shorter hair with a Mediterranean look or at least that's what we think. There's a nice sculpture  by Hans Feibusch that we like. Regardless, this is a thought provoking and excellent account.

[Teresa]

@Stephen ~ Yes!  He may have looked like Bill Cosby and nothing at all like my picture (and Bill would be an easy guy to worship).  In China he's Chinese.  The European image is the one I grew up with.  Again, we morph him for our own comfort, to identify closely.  On Mars he would be green.  Remember the line in The Doors when Jim Morrison's character says, "What people are looking for is something sacred."    Rearrange the letters and what do you have?  Scared.  That makes me sad. 

[bolton carley]

that's so interesting. with all the stories you've told of your parents, that this is the thing that came back to you. your life always fascinates me.

[Teresa]

Here's the image in the guest room.  I really do adore it because it is so old, so full of history.  Nothing to do with the subject matter, except that my mother adored the subject matter.  She hung on to this thing for dear life.  Don't know who had it before her.  Then my father inherited it and one day out of the blue he mailed it to me in a mustard yellow envelope padded with bubble wrap.  I wanted to kiss it.  I'd save it above other inanimate objects if there was a fire (this and journals).  Sentimental value.  That's the point.

[bolton carley]

that last line really enveloped your stages. i'm fascinated by the way you pictured this and wrote it out. a perspective i'd never really thought of. as a person who's had a lot of reasons to thank god and believe that he exists lately, it's sad to read, but respect your ability to verbalize the thoughts.