"Made In My Image"

In 1999, the National Catholic Reporter held a competition which sought to update the image of Christ for the new Millennium.  The competition drew nearly 1700 entries from around the world.  Judge, Sister Wendy Beckett, an art expert, author, and television personality, selected Janet McKenzie’s “Jesus of the People.”  In the words of Sister Wendy, “This is a haunting image of a peasant Jesus – dark, thick-lipped, looking out on us with ineffable dignity, with sadness but with confidence.  Over his white robe he draws the darkness of our lack of love, holding it to himself, prepared to transform all sorrows if we will let him.” 

Ms. McKenzie’s position as winner has been life-altering as well as humbling. Her goal was to create a work of art in keeping with her beliefs as a person, an artist, and inclusive of groups previously uncelebrated in his image especially African Americans and women. She hoped “Jesus of the People” might remind us that we all are created in God’s likeness. The worldwide welcoming celebration of this interpretation of Jesus and the gratitude expressed to her – as well as the onslaught of negative responses – affirm her belief that this work, this particular vision of Jesus, was meant to exist now.   

McKenzie describes her work thus; “Jesus of the People simply came through me, I feel as though I am only a vehicle for his existence.  Jesus stands holding his robes, one hand near his heart and looks at us – and to us.  He is flanked by three symbols.  The yin-yang symbol represents perfect harmony, the halo conveys Jesus’ holiness, and the feather symbolizes transcendent knowledge.  The feather also refers to the Native American and the Great Spirit.  The feminine aspect is served by the fact that although Jesus was designed as a man with a masculine presence, the model was a woman.  The essence of the work is simply that Jesus is all of us.”  - Janet McKenzie.   

The story broke more than 10 years ago and yet, I have not seen it anywhere else other than in the hallway of my home.  It is a thunderous reminder that we are not who we were!  It also reminds me of a 1941 song written by Billie Holiday and Arther Herzog, Jr.., "God Bless the Child."  We are not our parents or our parent's parents.  We are the children of the new millennium.  We have our own way of knowing, our own way of learning, our own way of being, our own way of believing and worshiping God - if we choose to.  Gone is the uncomfortable, and at times confining "hand-me-down" religion  that has for far too long held a "free" people captive by the invisible chains of religious dogma.  Gone is the cliche',  "The  bible said it and I believe it."  Gone is the idea that one group of people holds the patent to the imago dei.  And finally, gone is the white, blond haired, blue eyed Jesus!

"i found god in myself,

and i loved her,

i loved her fiercely."

                    Ntozake Shange

 © Dorinda G. Henry, 2010

THEOLOGIA HABITUS EST! 

"Who Do You Say That I Am?"

"Someone's knocking at the door.
Somebody's ringing the bell.
Someone's knocking at the door.
Somebody's ringing the bell.
Do me a favor.  Open the door
And let 'em in.  Let 'em in."

"Once when Jesus was praying alone, with only the disciples near him, he asked them 'Who do the crowds say that I am?'  They answered, 'John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets has arisen.'  He said to them, 'But who do you say that I am?'  Peter answered, 'The Messiah of God'" (NRSV Luke 9:18-20).

As we enter into this next series exploring the question, "Who is Jesus?," I asked my class to share their earliest understanding of Jesus and how they came to know him.  Before I let you in on the particulars, I have to tell you that the class is primarily made up of African American women, and one man (God Bless his soul).  They range in age from their early 30s to late 50s, and I'm being a little cautious here. ;-)   They come from all walks of life and backgrounds, economic, social, educational levels and denominations.  Each of them have a mind of their own with the confidence that comes from living as an African Americans in a society that doesn't make it easy to get through an average day without wanting to reach out and touch somebody who has confused them with their great, great grandparents or worse, an enslaved ancestor. 

So, the answer to the question, "Who is Jesus?" varied.  "He IS my Lord and Saviour.  He came and died on the cross for my sins so that I could have everlasting life."  Praise God!  "He watches over me and protects me.  He supplies me with my every need."  Umph, Umph, Umph....  "He is the Son of God and I must believe in him and only him in order to be saved."  Halle-lu-yer!  "He was my secret friend that I always talked to and played with.  I don't know how I came to know him as Jesus, he just was."  Wow!  "He was a beautiful white man, with long luxurious blond hair, piercing blue eyes.  He wore a wonderfully brilliant white robe and was always in the middle of a bunch of sheep and kids, standing in a garden with no shoes on" - wonder who that was?  The next question I asked was, "Did you have the option to believe in him?"  With only one exception, (Jesus was my friend), the answer was an emphatic "No!"  The stories ran the gamut from getting terrifying looks from parents, to physical and verbal reprimands and admonishments, and even threats.  We learned early in our development, that if we didn't believe in Jesus, that is, that he was Lord and Saviour and that he died on the cross for our sins so that we could have everlasting life, that we were going to Hell!  Whoa Lawd!  And although we didn't know what or where Hell was either, it was made clear to us that it was not somewhere we wanted to go - EVER!

So, it seems that most of us have come to know or believe in Jesus out of fear and trepidation.  But it seems from the aforementioned scriptural passage, that this man called Jesus, wants to know what the disciples' personal experience is of him.  "Who do you say that I am?"  He appears to want to know what they think of him.  I hear him saying, "I don't want to hear what the gossip is.  I don't want to hear what others are saying about me, I want to know "Who do you say that I am?"  For me, the question is essentially, "Who am I to YOU?"  Next, how does a skinny, little, ugly, nappy-headed, black girl from "Podunk," Texas with a family history of picking and chopping cotton in desert like heat from sun up to sun down, white men and women, young and old, referring to her mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother as "girl or gal," come to know, love and have faith, not only in this Jewish Mediterranean peasant man who looks like the very people responsible for enslaving people who look like her, but who is also supposed to be Emmanuel - God with us?  This man, representing a faith that justified the perpetuation of slavery for hundreds of years was forced down the throats of our ancestors, and our parents through beatings, rape, murder, lynchings, spiritual and theological indoctrination.  But "US IS FREE NOW!"  We've heard all the stories, the half-truths, the flat out lies, and yes, even the fantasies.  We've heard who the crowds say that he is, so we know how we got here.  But in order to answer the secondary question, we've got to get to know this man on a personal level.  Can we?  Shall we?  What's that I hear?   

"Someone's knocking at the door.
Somebody's ringing the bell.
Someone's knocking at the door.
Somebody's ringing the bell.
Do me a favor.  Open the door
And let 'em in.  Let 'em in."
© Dorinda G. Henry, 2010

THEOLOGIA HABITUS EST!

"Who Is Jesus?"

I'm baaaaack.  Up to this point, our bible study class has negotiated a couple of amazing topics that have been as challenging as they have been liberating.  We started out with SEXUALITY AND THE BIBLE, then jumped right into RELATIONSHIPS IN THE BIBLE.  This next series will consist of an exploration of the canonical gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) to uncover the answer to the historical question, WHO IS JESUS?  Along with the reading of each of the aforementioned gospels, I've added two additional books; "Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time," by Marcus Borg; and "Who Is Jesus?," by John Dominic Crossan.

Have no doubt, some of my previous suppositions will find their way into this bible study series - I wouldn't be Rev. Dorinda G. Henry if they didn't.  But first, a word of caution; Although I am a Christian, I am also a woman of the world.  I have an appreciation, reverence and respect for all World Religions and enjoy the tasty treats each of them bring to the table of theological discourse.  I have engaged in various forms of prayer, meditation and ceremonial rituals that are not germane to our Western understanding of Christianity.  As we journey throughout this next adventure, you will find that the man they called "Jesus" did also.

So, get your books, do your reading, sit back and relax.  And while it might get a little bumpy - like Harriet Tubman, the "conductor" of the underground railroad, be encouraged, because I've never lost a passenger.  See ya next week.

Peace,

Rev. Dorinda G. Henry

© Dorinda G. Henry, 2010

THEOLOGIA HABITUS EST!

"Moments of Reflection"

We have taken a break from the usual bible study class.  We resume next week, July 11, 2010.  Same place, Tabernacle Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia; Same time, 9:30am.  In the meantime, however, I am enjoying a much welcomed and much needed break to reflect upon more personal matters.  June is a hard month for me.  Five years ago, at the age of 57, my father passed away three days after the Christmas holiday.  He was a revolutionary, literally and figuratively.  He was an artist whose quest for knowing and being true to the reality that there is no definite color, always finds rest in my soul.  The irony, is that for some reason, I have been called upon to preach every Father's Day service since his transition.  You'd think I would be used to it by now, but it never gets any easier.  I believe in some way, he has a hand in this, as I lift him up and share a funny story about him before I preach.  I don't think I'll ever run out of stories to share about him and that always makes me smile.  

June is also the month that I lost Mama.  Mama is my biological grandmother.  She legally adopted me at the age of 5.  As I think about, it seems a bit peculiar to me that life's happenstance, particularities and events would pull them so close together in memory and, as you'll find out in a moment, in life.  You see, my father was terrified of Mama - and Mama, not being too fond of him, certainly didn't do anything to ease his fears.  She certainly never lost any sleep over him.  After all, he had shown himself to be less than honorable when it came to me and my mother.  The truth of the matter is that neither he, nor my mother, deserve any praise concerning my early development.  I am grateful, however, that they were the two people through which I entered into this earthly realm.  They were and are very talented people, individually and collectively.  None of their talents have been lost on me.  Yet, that I am still standing today, with some semblance of sanity, really is a tribute to Mama.

But as life goes on, so too do the stories of the living and the dead.  On June 27, 2010, a week to the day after Father's Day, and the day before the one year anniversary of Mama's transition, the third brother of my father, proposed to my mother's younger sister and Mama's third daughter!  I CANNOT begin to tell you how we got here, but here we are!  I find it quite surprising, humorous and yet, rather exciting.  It appears that in the spirit world, there has been some reconciliation between my father and Mama.  I like to think they have even conspired with the heavenly host to bring this union into being.  Some would say the souls of our two families have been and are meant to travel together, for once again, we have joined, both in life, as in death, as one.

Amen - Ase', Ase', Ase'O.

© Dorinda G. Henry, 2010

THEOLOGIA HABITUS EST!