I recently read this fascinating article about how different societies all over the world to pick Jesus to match their own image. Now we are all familiar with what I call California Jesus. With his blue eyes and blonde hair, but this is true all over the world. In Africa, you can find paintings of Mary making her pilgrimage to give birth to Jesus on a zebra.
How cool is that?
Now, of course, Jesus was only a Jew from the Middle East, but I find this totally interesting. That we change the face of Jesus to match our own.
The cynical read on this would be to assume that we are incapable of accepting a Jesus that looks different from us. I don’t think that’s true at all.
I think we do this. Because the love of Jesus is for everyone. It was never about where you come from.
The love of Jesus was always about the free gift of grace. There are no languages. Cultures or skin colors that love cannot cross.
Now, I don’t see these different depictions of Jesus as a difference between us, but rather that we share in the same love of God and love for each other.
His love is for every nationality, and his grace is for every individual. The water of baptism is universal, and the love of Jesus is for everyone.
You’ve been listening to Everyday Miracles by hope, mindfulness, and prayer.
In the year 1818, a 26-year-old Catholic priest by the name of Joseph Moore was preparing for the Christmas Eve service at his church in the Austrian Alps. And while cleaning up the church in preparation, he found out that his organ had broken. This was not good. I mean, here’s this young guy that is probably new to this church.
If you’ve ever gone through art history class, you’re probably familiar with a painting called The Light of the World. It was painted by the British artist Holman Hunt, and hangs in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. It’s one of the most iconic religious paintings in history. The painting depicts Jesus standing outside of a small, dilapidated cottage.
I was recently listening to the U2 album, all that you Can’t Leave Behind, and I came across a song called Grace. The lyrics say this, grace takes the blame, covers the shame, removes the stain, but once was hurt, but once was friction. What left a mark? No longer stings because grace makes beauty out of ugly things.
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