19 2, August, 2020 catholicweekly.com.au COMMENT does not matter what Jesus looked like. Jesus is the Incar- nation, God made flesh. God has no colour, no race, no eth- nicity, no caste, no gender. We all are made in his image, which means God has no im- age. And if God has no image, then it is immaterial to our faith what colour, race or eth- nicity one might ascribe to Jesus. But for the purposes of the Incarnation, Jesus had to occupy a body. In a society where women had no rights, he had to be a man. Physical- ly, he had to have the DNA of the people into whose midst he was born. For the sake of history, it is safe to say that ethnical- ly, Jesus was Caucasian, most probably with a dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes. The indigenous Palestinian people of the Holy Land give us a sense of how the people around Jesus looked. Those who believe that the Shroud of Turin was Jesus’ actual burial cloth even have a compelling image of Jesus’ Age can confer wisdom - of a sort What colour was Jesus? A t a time when all over the world stat- ues of historical fig- ures are falling, so- cieties face their often painful histories and reconsider how the past – and other neglect- ed histories – should be told. This iconoclasm – the de- struction of icons and mon- uments – may be painful to some, but it challenges old certainties, not only about the subjects of these statues but also about societies that were shaped by these men (very few of themwere women). It is inevitable that icono- clastic movements also might misdirect their anger at the wrong subjects – which serves to negate the argument that statues are useful signposts of history. One such wrong-head- ed target concerns images of Jesus Christ which are seen to be Eurocentric. Catholics need not be told that it would be sacrilegious to allow the destruction of images of Jesus in the pursuit of sociopoliti- cal points. Any proposition to destroy religious art or icons must be strongly and unequivocal- ly opposed, by people of faith and those of none. At the same time, however, our objections must be accompanied by an acknowledgment that certain common depictions of Jesus in the likeness of a European man have contributed to a normalisation of white chauvinism. The argument is sum- marised in this way: When the normative image of Jesus is that of a white man, it conveys the idea that the historical Je- sus was white, with the sub- liminal message that whites are superior to other races. Colonialists and even some missionaries used European Christian art to communicate such notions of white superi- ority. Many more missionar- ies did so without even real- ising it. In South African church- es, the image of a white Jesus still dominates. Here, as else- where, that provokes a count- er-assertion that Jesus was, in fact, Black. For our faith, it physical characteristics. But because the Gospels don’t describe Jesus’ physical ap- pearance, or that of his Bless- ed Mother, artists through- out the centuries have had to use their imagination. And as Western European art be- came increasingly dominant, depictions of Jesus and Mary – and even their environ- ment – reflected the charac- teristics of those people at whom these works of art were aimed. That was an act of encul- turation – the process by which we adapt the symbols and certain practices of our faith to make it relevant to the local cultural contexts. But that art ceased to reflect local cultures when it was export- ed to missions in colonialised territories. The popularity of mod- ern devotions that emanated from apparitions in Europe – the images of which reflect- ed the visionaries’ particular local culture – might have fur- ther entrenched the idea of Jesus and Mary as “white.” Of course, there are fa- mous enculturated excep- tions, such as Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico, Our Lady of Akita in Japan or the “Jesus Mafa” art project in Cameroon from 1973. But these are few. “Jesus was Black” should be seen not as a historical observation – it would be an incorrect one – but as an at- tempt to make himmore uni- versal than the general narra- tive suggests. It is a legitimate pursuit. Our task nowmust be to encourage enculturated re- ligious art, and to have the courage to display it in our churches. This unsigned editorial titled: “What Color Was Jesus?” appeared on 5 July onThe Southern Cross web- site, South Africa’s Catholic weekly publication. H ello, I am 45 years old. I hurt my ankle three months ago, and it’s still not completely well. The stupid part is, I hurt it doing nothing whatsoever. It just randomly swells up from time to time, and then I have to ice and rest and medicate before I can hobble around; and it will probably never be completely fine again. Sometimes I forget how to sleep; and there are two pills I must take every day if I wish to live. Little bits of my teeth fall off every once in a while; my digestive system is ridic- ulous; and my eyebrows are slowly disappearing. I am, in short, starting to get old. Not terribly old. I haven’t lost my marbles yet, and I go running several times a week. Not that you asked, but I could prob- ably even still get pregnant if I really wanted to (which I do not). I’m reasonably energetic and capable, more or less. But 45 years are certainly enough to cast a faint but undeniable shadow over my days. I am, as they say, over the hill. There’s lots left to do, and I intend to do it, but I can’t deny I’ll be doing it on a downward slide. I was grumbling about this state of affairs not long ago, and a reader chided me for my fear and weakness. She said that she was not afraid of getting old. She knew that old age led to death and death was the door to Christ! And she loved Christ! So what was there to fear? What indeed! She wasn’t wrong. But she was, as I sus- pected, 22 years old. That is why she had no fear of getting old: Because she was young. I wasn’t afraid of getting old, either, when I was in my 20’s, because I was in my 20’s. Nothing easier than bravely facing something you’re not actually facing. That is, of course, the priv- ilege of the young. It pairs very nicely with what comes next, which is many leisure- ly decades of repenting of all the dumb things you used to believe about the world and yourself before you really did or knew anything. So there are no hard feelings. But I think of this young woman often, when I feel brave, or strong, or clear-headed, or steadfast, or virtuous, or self-righteous. I think of her when I see a gay Christian try and failing, over and over and over again, to be chaste (and I am straight and married). I think of her when I see a mum facing cancer, and she’s being negative and nasty in- stead of hopeful and positive (and I don’t have cancer). I think of her when I see a rich person squandering his wonderful opportunity to be a blessing to everyone around him (and I’m firmly below the poverty line). I think of her when the par- ish priest is making bone- headed, inexplicable choic- es in how to run the parish (where I show up for an hour on Sundays). I think of her when I see a fellow Catholic struggling with some doctrine that’s making them doubt the verac- ity of the faith (and I can’t re- member a time when it didn’t seem clear as day to me). I think of her anytime I catch myself thinking, “Well, if that were me, I’d be doing a much better job of it!” Maybe I would. But it’s not me, and there’s a very good chance that if it were, I’d be failing so much harder than I could ever imagine. There is no call for me to pat myself on the back for my potential achievements, not unless I want to spend mil- lennia in purgatory thinking about what an ass I was back on earth. I get no credit for not fail- ing at things I’m not even asked to attempt. So that’s one good thing about being 45 years old, any- way: I am learning how to look at my own life, my own circumstances, my own trials, my own temptations, and to think: Well, that’s enough to keep me busy. Simcha Fisher is the author of The Sinner’s Guide to Nat- ural Family Planning. A very European Jesus: Salvator Mundi by Vittore Carpaccio, circa 1510. PHOTO:WIKIMEDIA COMMONS/PUBLIC DOMAIN Growing older is a confrontation withmortality. It’s howwe face that fact that makes the difference I think of her any time I catch myself thinking, “Well, if that were me, I’d be doing a much better job of it!”Maybe I would. But it’s not me, and there’s a very good chance ... I’d be failing so much harder than I could ever imagine.” 1300 554 552 www.girafferemovals.com.au •
[email protected] One of Sydney’s most trusted removalists 50 YEARS OF REMOVAL Fast. Safe. Efficient. Country • Interstate • Long or Short Term Storage For over 50 years the Keoghan family have run an honest, professional removals business. We service homes, units, offices, parishes, schools, colleges and government departments. Simcha Fisher Columnist