Jesus is perhaps the most recognizable figure in history. His image is iconic, instantly identifiable to Christians and even non-Christians, no matter what the guise or look the artist gives Him.
We recognize Jesus as a lovable child — a newborn in swaddling clothes, the Santo Niño in regal attire, a precocious 12-year-old preaching at the temple. He is also the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb on his shoulders, a teacher regaling the crowd, a healer who made the lame walk and the blind see, a miracle worker who changed water into wine and ordered a dead man to rise from the dead. There are countless versions of the Christ presiding over the Last Supper, agonizing in the dark in Gethsemane, bearing abuse and torture with dignity and grit, carrying the cross to Calvary, hanging between two thieves, lying lifeless in his Mother’s arms, and rising in the resurrection. Although Jesus may look different from image to image, we recognize Him in an instant.
The greatest of artists have imagined what Christ looked like and immortalized Him in their works. They depict Him in various ways, depending on their style, the era they lived in, and perhaps the level of their relationship with the Divine. Thus we see various faces of Jesus: solemn, brooding, intense; soft, almost feminine, in its holiness; sad, kind, stern, tired, angry or in intense pain; triumphant, powerful, commanding — Christ the King. But he is almost never portrayed in a light mood.
In film, Christ is often rendered as a dark, bearded Middle Eastern man, but otherwise well-groomed; a Caucasian with blue eyes and rays of light emanating from His blondish head; a beat-up body hanging on the cross twisted in pain; a bedraggled Jew who stands out among other bedraggled Jews, being the handsomest of the lot. A recent movie, Son of God, portrays Jesus as incredibly good-looking (dubbed by Hollywood as “Hot Jesusâ€). However, no one else in the film comes close in terms of looks and grooming, and Jesus comes across more as a divine being amid a scruffy human entourage.
Perhaps the closest portrayal of the human Christ I have seen is in the film Jesus Christ Superstar, where he is played by Ted Neely as a charismatic but vulnerable and frightened man sent by God to fulfil a divine mission. In the movie, Jesus looks and probably smells no different from the disciples he travels with.
In His portraits in popular art, Jesus is hardly ever shown smiling or lighthearted. It is as if every day in His life was leading to Good Friday. This is, of course, the way things turned out, His entire life was a prelude to His dying a horrible death on the cross to save us from our sins — a truly frightening prospect, even for the Son of God. But surely, he had his light moments with his friends and family. He was human, after all.
There is a Filipino priest who has made a career of depicting Christ in poster art playing basketball, leaning against a motorcycle, kicking a football, smoking, texting and other modern representations of a “cool dude†that are supposed to make it easier for young people to identify with Him. Although I find his art rather forced and tacky, the priest has also produced an image of Christ unlike the others. He painted a picture of a mirthful Jesus, with sparkling eyes and mouth open in mid-laughter. It is a Christ I can relate to — friendly, comfortable, familiar and human. An old frayed print of this painting is tacked behind my bedroom door. It is the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing I look at before falling asleep.
There is another depiction of Christ that is my current pleasure. Jesus, A Pilgrimage is a new book by Fr. James Martin, SJ, a meditation on the life of Jesus based on a journey through the Holy Land, where the author visited the places where Jesus lived and worked in his private and public lives.
Fr. Martin explores Christ’s private life of 30 years that we know little about, before he set out on his mission to save mankind. Since Jesus was both fully divine and fully human, He must have experienced every emotion and feeling that ordinary mortals go through. As a child, He must have squealed with joy playing on Mary’s lap. He must have bruised his knee and cried His eyes out. As a teen, He must have been hungry, ate ravenously, thought rebellious thoughts, and hung out with the kids in the neighborhood. As an adult, He must have labored as a carpenter, serving the needs of the community for furniture, house building and repairs. He must have stolen glances at a pretty girl or two, did sports with his friends, shared jokes — and he must have laughed.
By walking where Jesus walked, seeing what Jesus saw, and imagining what Jesus felt, Fr. Martin fills in the gaps in the truncated storytelling of the Evangelists. As a reader and editor, I have often wanted to send back the gospels to their authors for more detail, more information, and smoother segues in their narratives. Fr. Martin’s research enriches the gospels by elaborating on the scenes and filling in the blanks so that the reader is where the events actually happened, tasting the water Jesus turned to wine, smelling the sweat and the catch of the fishermen, seeing things through Jesus’ eyes and entering His mind as He spoke in parables to the crowds.
This book has made the life of Jesus, His humanity and divinity, very real to me. It makes for easy and inspiring Holy Week reading. I got my copy at National Book Store.