The Color of Christ

Jesus and family loss

Victoria Lopez — Fri, 10 May 2013 15:40:02 +0000

Growing up as a young child, I don’t remember my family being very religious. Talking about God and Jesus Christ wasn’t common in my household. However when my dad got sick, my parents began to attend church on Sundays. People from the church were very supportive during that time and came to our house to pray for my dad while he would lay in bed. Because the idea of religion was so foreign to me, I remember feeling so awkward holding hands with these strangers during prayer. I didn’t even focus on the idea of God, Heaven, or Jesus; all I thought about was wanting my Dad to get better.
It wasn’t until one of my aunts passed away that made me think more about religion. The thought about it made me feel better during that time of loss. I felt comfort in the idea that there is a place where lost ones could find peace after death. It was a scary thought to think that after death, there is just nothing else. Earlier this year, my grandmother passed away. To get through that loss, I saw comfort in knowing that my grandmother was somewhere with my aunt.
Even though I don’t regularly attend Sunday mass or read the bible on my own, I now have a better understanding of the idea of religion, its importance to people and how Jesus brings out the good in people.

Multicolored Glow-in-the-dark Jesus

Kevin Huynh — Fri, 10 May 2013 07:46:32 +0000

My family went to a Catholic Church all throughout my childhood and a little into elementary school there was a point where I went to Sunday School followed by mass the same day, followed by five days of private Catholic School, bookended by a School mass again on Friday. This was repeated pretty much all through elementary and middle school so we were always around images of Jesus.

Growing up I’ve never really thought of his race, at least on a conscious level, what I do remember though are all the materials the images of him were made of. In paintings and in text books, he had light skin, and longish brown hair, but in church he was usually brown, if not for any other reason than the fact that the images were carved from wood. Later they added a marble statue of the Holy Family in front, and this gave baby Jesus a stone-black skin tone. In these ways I guess Jesus was an assortment of different colors -but that these images didn’t immediately relate to race.

What possibly connects it to racial and cultural images though is the fact that our church had weekly Vietnamese, Spanish, English, and Filipino services along with active classes, meetings, and groups that revolved around each. In this way since all these cultures shared the same spaces for worship and socialization, Jesus in our immediate community had to be (or became) somebody that was inclusive to the whole congregation while being specific to different groups. This didn’t just include race -but also age. You could see this particularly around Christmas. From a kid’s perspective it was significant seeing grown ups of all different colors and all different jobs coming, not only to see Jesus, but to see a baby Jesus. What was weird was that this image was then punctuated by scripture and readings from an adult Jesus’ words. He was somehow an image that was old and young at the same time.

Even with all this, starting in high school and into college its become less and less a part of my schedule. If a friend or someone asks if I still believe in God, I usually give a (pseudo) intellectual response about the difference between religion and spirituality. But if I’m honest with myself, I think the genuine answer might be that I just don’t know.

Now though, when I think of Jesus images the first thing that comes to mind is actually not any of the above, but it does relate to how different materials change his appearance. In 3rd or 4th grade all the students got rosaries to practice prayer with. My friends all talked about the cool colors they got like red or blue and I was stuck with this tannish white one -disappointed with the plainest of the bunch. I dropped it in my backpack and thought nothing of it until I got home. That night I got into bed and put all of my school stuff, including the rosary on the night stand. I turned off the lamp and found that my rosary was giving off its own soft lime green light. This plain tannish white Jesus image was actually molded out of glow-in-the-dark plastic.

Worshipping Wood

Patrick Canlas — Fri, 10 May 2013 06:32:29 +0000

I was about 16 and by that time, my eldest brother had already had a child who was around 9. My brother would always ask my sister and me to babysit while he would go away for his job and couldn’t find anyone else to watch his boy. Eventually though, my brother and his wife separated, leaving my nephew under the care of his mother (who was of a Christian denomination – I’m not sure of which, but our family is mainly Catholic). After several years of being under his mother’s strict Protestant care, it came to my attention that my nephew was being heavily influenced by a single denomination which (under the care of his mother) may or may not be teaching him that other faiths were not as civilized. One day, my sister, mom, and I were watching over my nephew while his mother was away at work. My mom’s a religious, Catholic woman and prays religiously while encouraging the rest of the family to follow suit. She had asked, that day, that we spend a moment to pray. But my nephew refused, telling us quite frankly that his mom says “people who pray to those statues worship wood.” This comment very much upset my sister and my mom eventually had to sit with him alone and explain to him that that was something one shouldn’t say to anyone, regardless of their faith. As for myself, I wasn’t so much offended as I was surprised to hear that come out of the mouth of a quiet child I had spent most of my years watching over. I understood that this comment may have been the product of what his mother may have been teaching him at home, but I was still so very surprised that he verbalized this opinion. But at the same time, I can understand that it might be discomforting for a child who wasn’t raised Catholic to be told to pray in a very traditional setting complete with rosaries, candles, vases of flowers, and of course, wooden statues. What I’m trying to get that though, is that I guess my nephew’s comment sort of put things in perspective for me. I’m not saying that he changed my way of life or anything (I wasn’t very religious to begin with), but it did give me a run for my money when I was posed with a comment for which I had almost no rebuttal.

Church Etiquette

Judy — Fri, 10 May 2013 05:20:12 +0000

Being raised in a non-religious home has had me extremely unprepared on how to properly display the correct manners upon entering a church. I didn’t know how to correctly show my respects, how to use a bible. sing along, or what to refrain from saying. I’m sure that if I were to attend more often, I would learn the rules and manners that are appropriate. But this anecdote is going to be about how I did everything wrong.

About two years ago, I went to church for the first time to further understand religion and understand how some things work. I was what most people would call, a fish out of water. After an hour long testimony, it is appropriate to say “Amen.” Here I am, with my lack of self-control and knowledge, proceeded to clap. Not only did I get the attention of everyone else present in the church, I then said “oh my God” loud enough for the people around me. In a span of about thirty seconds, I not only disrespected the church’s proper manners, but also managed used God’s name in vain. My credibility also suffered some additional points because my attire was inappropriate and immodest. Overall, my experience in church was a rough one.

God Works In Many Ways

Dan Kottman — Fri, 10 May 2013 04:56:59 +0000

The Lord really does work in crazy ways, my Grandfather had fallen ill late during my Junior year of High School and he lived back in my home town of Nebraska, and we were now in Texas. We got a call from the nurses saying that they did not think he was going to make it and that we should come back and get all of his affairs set in order. He passed away a week later and in my dream, that night I saw him as he was when he could still walk right, talk normal, and was not in pain anymore. I feel this was a sign that he was at peace and he was home now.

Jesus Statue

F. Quiroz — Fri, 10 May 2013 04:34:19 +0000

I attend mass almost every Sunday with my family. One week though my family decided to attend church on a Saturday since we had plans for that Sunday. Little did we realize that the mass on Saturday was in Vietnamese. It was really awkward, being Hispanic myself, listening to a mass that I didn’t understand. As I was leaving after the mass had finished, I noticed that a room that is usually left locked was surprisingly left open. I went to go inside and saw some people praying to a statue of an Asian man. Little did I realize that that Asian man was Jesus. I had never thought that Jesus was any other color but white. But in reality who knows, I have never met Jesus and in all the pictures I have ever seen he is white, but this statue clearly portrayed Jesus as Asian. Maybe Asian Jesus reaches the Vietnamese community by being similar in race. After meeting Asian Jesus I realized that what Jesus looks like is truly a mystery but what he did in his lifetime is of true importance and are important teachings to help one be a better person.

Icons

Fri, 10 May 2013 04:03:49 +0000

I was born into a huge Greek family and with that came our traditions and religion. We went to church every sunday, prayed before family meals, and filled the house with icons. The icons always caught my eye because they were so ornate and beautiful. I remember going to our strict and beautiful church and being so fascinated by the walls, windows, alter, and robes. I can’t imagine not having my house filled with icons and crosses because its something I grew up with and I associate with God and Jesus. One of my favorites is the huge icon of the Archangel Michael that is hanging over my childhood home. I always wondered why it was over the front door and not somewhere where it could be shown off more. I asked my mom when I was older and she said “Michael keeps out Satan. If you place him over your door evil can not enter.” I will always remember when she said that, it makes me feel even more secure in my house at home. Some people might not agree with icons or even religion in general but I’ve always had a close relationship with God and my religion helped with that. I feel that these icons are just like art, people like to show beautiful things with art and there is nothing more beautiful than an angel. People have their own way of protecting themselves from evil but I know one thing for sure, I will always have an Icon of Michael over my door.

Rosary of Defense

Ryan Figueroa — Fri, 10 May 2013 03:51:35 +0000

When I was in the Philippines for a year long vacation, my uncle had given me a rosary. Which at first glance, it looked like any other rosary. However, my uncle had fitted a small knife in it that could be opened with a latch. He told me that, “if evil ever comes to you, you must fight back, but don’t worry as long as you have this Jesus will be with you.” Now during that time I didn’t think of it too much, but I do remember during the time I couldn’t help but to feel safe and secure, it felt as if I could fend off any kind evil. Although it looked like any normal rosary with a tiny knife fitted into it, it was empowering and soothing to have such an item. It felt that Jesus was right next to me and ready to protect me from all evils.
So it wasn’t a surprise that I felt depressed after surrendering it to my aunt before leaving for America. It felt as if the shield that had protected me during that time was just stripped from me.

My first experience with Buddha

Colin Seward — Fri, 10 May 2013 03:30:32 +0000

As a Christian, I had not had a lot of experience with other religious groups and symbols, probably due to the fact that Christianity is so widespread and popular. I met my first Buddhist this year and was very surprised at how they practice their religion. I do not go to church very often but I am aware of how it is ran and all of the ways Christians do their religious business, so I was surprised at the difference between the praying of Christians at night and the chanting that Buddhists do.
This year I was at my girlfriend’s dorm and was attempting to go to sleep when her roommate came into the room and began to get ready for bed. I had seen friends and family pray before bed by getting down on their knees and quietly praying to God or past away relatives, I am guilty of doing it as well. She got down in front of her little shrine, which I had not seen, and began to chant in a very strange voice, as well as burn some sort of incense. It surprised me at first and I did not know how to react and I was very uncomfortable but I got used to it as nights passed. I realized that when she first did it, it was just the pure inexperience of other religions that made me react the way I did. Now that I have experienced other religions, I am sure next time I experience a new religion I will not react in such a hostile/shocked way.

My Jesus in my Heart

Chelsea Raff — Fri, 10 May 2013 02:58:15 +0000

My whole life growing up I did not attend any type of religious ceremony, or go to church, or even interact with Jesus. It was not until around the end of high school and my nana’s death that Jesus really became a part of my life. My Nana’s death was very unexpected and I had no where to look to for comfort. It was in a dream that I saw my nana with a large man, he did not look like Jesus Christ but just a large man with bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair. He told me my Nana was in good hands and very comfortable in heaven. He referred to my Nana as my angel, and to not worry about her. When I woke up from that dream I deemed that man as my Jesus Christ. Even if that was not Jesus and he was supposed to be someone else, I did not care because he gave me security.

Ever since that dream things changed significantly in my life. I still did not attend Church or start to read the bible, but something in my life changed. I had a more positive outlook on things and I think it is because I knew that my nana was my angel. As long as I had her on my side than that was enough to get me through even my worst days. When people put a face to Jesus I have a hard time accepting that because I think that Jesus comes in different forms to everyone. He comes as a comfort for most people and everybody is comfortable with different things. I luckily found a Jesus that I am comfortable with, that gives me the spirit I need.