Jesus in a COVID mask? We need to reset how we see our icons.
I imagine Jesus in a surgical mask, the straps tangled in the dark, spiral curls around his ears. He wears it as the Word made flesh, prioritizing the vulnerable, modeling inward and outward compassion.
Everything about him is largely incongruent with the corn-silk, backlit Jesus abundant in dominant strains of American Christianity – a stained-glass Messiah who is distant from us and from our suffering, more concerned with our souls than our corporeal well-being.
That too few people instinctively picture the first version and too many the second reflects an incarnation of Christ unsupported by history or theology, but one that is nevertheless imprinted on many Christians from cradle to grave. In this skewed vision of Jesus, we confront the accumulated harm that unravels our present when it is propelled by flawed representations from our past.
Images matter. Icons matter. What, who and why we venerate matter.
It is why some people reject history that challenges what they have been taught. When they’ve only learned to see things one way, any variation can feel like an affront, even a threat. How much more transformative to perceive an invitation into a deeper, richer, more authentic world extending beyond narrow parameters of beauty, justice or worth. But that presumes an openness to being transformed.
At a mundane level, some shifting perspectives are evident. From children’s toys to L.L. Bean commercials to Hallmark Channel movies, there are glimpses that representation is under reconsideration, making space for a spectrum of races, sizes, abilities, gender identities and sexual orientations that were previously ignored or hidden. People who fall outside of stereotypical and prescriptive “norms” – that is most of us – are more likely to recognize a resemblance. And, corporations hope, more likely to spend our money with them.
Closer to the level of true visual iconography, some churches are rethinking the art they display and the names they elevate.
St. Stephen’s Episcopal Cathedral in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania is hosting an exhibit called DeColonizing the Christ centering non-Westernized images of Jesus.
Writing about the exhibit, the Very Rev. Amy Welin, Dean of the Cathedral, asked, “Would American Christianity be different today if more images of Jesus were Black or Brown? It has taken the Black Lives Matter movement to make white Christians ask ourselves some hard questions about the ways Christian churches have used the figure of a European Jesus to subtly support white supremacy, which undermines Jesus’ command for us to love and serve all our neighbors.”
Closer to home, the Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray is gaining broader recognition as a prophetic voice who laid the groundwork for legal efforts by Thurgood Marshall, Ruth Bader Ginsburg and others. Murray, who grew up in Durham, is recognized as a saint by the Episcopal Church, and the recent release of the documentary “My Name is Pauli Murray” has widened the circle of those familiar with Murray’s extraordinary lifetime of work.
By the standards of a country that most often lionizes straight-presenting white men, frequently for their military or business achievements, Murray is an iconoclast as icon – a Black, gender nonconforming poet, priest, attorney and activist. Instead of stained glass, murals of Murray’s image are preserved on the exterior walls of buildings throughout Durham.
Perhaps that is the reset we need – for our icons to be unexpected, either in who they are or in how they’re depicted, until they represent enough of us to feel genuine, recognizable and righteous.