The
Cathedral Tour
"Hot, sexy Jesus!?"
What
comes to mind when you think of Jesus? I think of a man hanging helplessly on a cross. His hands pierced, as well as His feet and His
sides, there is a crown of thorns around His head and He is scantily clad. The
image that comes to my mind has been there since childhood. Jesus was hanging
on that cross unjustly. He did nothing to deserve the punishment that he
received. He hung on the cross for you and me. The thought of Jesus brings a
specific vivid picture to my mind’s eye.
We visited cathedrals
on our final trip. They were absolutely beautiful. The stained glass windows
let in just enough light for the inside of the cathedral to not be dark and
gloomy in spite of the majority of the windows being royal blue and red; colors
that you would not think of light getting through. The rich wood of the pews was welcoming. It seemed as if
they were calling me to sit down and just take in the grandness of my
surroundings. The ceiling looked as if it went straight up to heaven. I believed that if I was quiet enough I could hear, “Ava
Maria”. The wonderful natural stone of the altar did not seem cold as one
may have thought; it had a sort of shimmering effect. Maybe it was because it
was in a church, because I have seen that same stone many times and it did not
look the same way as it did encompassing the altar.
The final cathedral
that we visited was Episcopalian. This church was lovely. It had been added on
to but the additions flowed very well with the original part of the church.
When we went into the sanctuary it was breathtaking. This church had all of the
character of a loving grandmother. There was just enough light being let in by
the enormous stained glass windows for us to see all of the intricacies of this
place of worship. Our tour guide talked quietly and we had to crowd around her
to hear the history of the church. She respected where she was and her hushed tone
made us surround her like we were being told a secret.
On the way out of this
place of worship we stopped by the chapel. This room was very modern and had
chairs instead of pews. There was an abundance of light coming in from both
sides of the room. Our saintly guide informed us that the windows were back
lit. The most shocking thing was the humongous picture hanging behind the
pulpit. A hot, ripped, sexy vision of a man was hanging on a cross. Now, this
was no Jesus that I had ever seen; it made me feel uncomfortable. Should I be
having these kinds of thoughts about the man who died for my sins? Certainly
not! I found the picture to be sacrilegious. This portrait had none of the
elements that we are accustomed to when we think of a picture of Jesus. A
rooster was by His left foot, an upside down snake by His right foot, a crown of
flowers surround His head, and a crown of thorns on the ground. It looked as
though there was an erupting volcano behind “Hot Jesus”. A flood of orange flowed down the
mountain. In the middle of this scene
was hot, sexy, ripped Jesus, with his dark brown hair, and serene face hanging
on the cross. He was gorgeous! His left
hand was pierced, His right hand had one finger up as if he was trying to
interject his thought into a conversation, and His feet were crossed with only
the right foot pierced. This made me uneasy. I asked did anybody else not like
this picture. The little lady who was
giving us the history of the church told us that it was controversial.
Controversy is not even the word that I would use to say anything about this
portrait. I am not a religious fanatic or anything, but that portrait
did not sit well with me. A lot of us felt the same way, so we had our
discussion about the picture in question and got on the bus. Everything in my being hated this portrait.
Don’t get me wrong the actual picture was beautiful, although what it symbolized was
awful. How could a church place this sort of mockery of Jesus Christ in its
dwelling, especially since the man in the picture had been sent to prison for
murder and was put to death? Jesus was
the only person who walked this Earth and was perfect; that portrait is an
utter shame.
