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Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’ ”
Matthew 21:12-13 (NKJV)
Then Jesus went into the local white church and drove out all of those who put images of a white Jesus on the walls, and destroyed paintings and smashed stained glass windows. And Jesus said to them, “It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of racism.’”
Matthew 21:12-13 (Modern Paraphrase)
Growing up, I was taught that Jesus was white. Nobody had to explicitly say it like that (although a few actually did) it was written on the walls. You see, in every room of our church hung images of a white Jesus. When someone pointed to Jesus they pointed at an image of w white Jesus. When we pondered the love of Jesus…he was white. When we pondered Jesus in prayer…he was white. When we were encouraged to look to Jesus…he was white. When we were told that Jesus loved the little children…he was white. In our most intimate moments of prayer…Jesus was white. No matter how we thought about or taught about Jesus…he was white. The images reinforced every ounce of racism that we carried as a church. So when we went out into the world, we carried a racist Jesus with us.
It wasn’t just our church. Everyone I knew thought that Jesus was white as well (including many friends of color who had these same images of Jesus hanging on the walls of their churches). It wasn’t until I got to college that I began to question white images of Jesus. Slowly, I started to realize that Jesus descended from a long line of persons of color…Jesus’ parents were persons of color…Jesus was born in an area of persons of color…Jesus was by situation a person of color…in every definable way…Jesus was a person of color. Initially, I found such thoughts to be particularly disturbing. Everything I knew about Jesus seemed to crash down. I read text after text to try and figure all of this out. I talked to preacher after preacher. I constructed thought after thought. Ultimately, none of that really seemed to help. Then, one day…
In seminary, I was participating in a conference at an old wealthy white church. I stepped out of the session to go to the bathroom. Along the way, I found myself stopping in a classroom to look around. High on the wall at the front of the room hung an image of a white Jesus. As I looked at the image, I heard the words of the real Jesus (a person of color) say, “Follow me.” I didn’t hesitate. I went to the front of the room and ripped that image in half. In those moments, I received a call from God to an evangelism that has remained hidden until now…destroyer of images of the white Jesus. Ever since then, I haven’t stopped…
I would estimate that since graduate school, I have destroyed close to a thousand images of the white Jesus (mostly those mass-produced images that hang in room after room of old churches). Taking my cues from a Jesus of color that destroyed the temple, I am committed to destroying more. I am sharing all of this now because I hope others will join me. We need more evangelists of the real Jesus…the Jesus of color. Honestly, I can’t destroy all of the images…but together we can…
There is no reason for more children to grow up thinking that Jesus is white. Racism has lived and thrived in our churches for generations…due often (at least in part) to the fact that we keep passing along these blasphemous images of Jesus. For the sake of the gospel, may we destroy them all.
Amen.
+I want to make it clear that I am not talking about priceless works of art. I am talking about the senseless images that hang in so many of our churches.
++The attached image is a recent acquisition that I painted the words “Not White” over…which now hangs in our home.
Things I’ve Destroyed for the Real Jesus
Then Jesus went into the temple of God and drove out all those who bought and sold in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. And He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a ‘den of thieves.’ ”
Matthew 21:12-13 (NKJV)
Then Jesus went into the local white church and drove out all of those who put images of a white Jesus on the walls, and destroyed paintings and smashed stained glass windows. And Jesus said to them, “It is written, My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you have made it a den of racism.’”
Matthew 21:12-13 (Modern Paraphrase)
Growing up, I was taught that Jesus was white. Nobody had to explicitly say it like that (although a few actually did) it was written on the walls. You see, in every room of our church hung images of a white Jesus. When someone pointed to Jesus they pointed at an image of w white Jesus. When we pondered the love of Jesus…he was white. When we pondered Jesus in prayer…he was white. When we were encouraged to look to Jesus…he was white. When we were told that Jesus loved the little children…he was white. In our most intimate moments of prayer…Jesus was white. No matter how we thought about or taught about Jesus…he was white. The images reinforced every ounce of racism that we carried as a church. So when we went out into the world, we carried a racist Jesus with us.
It wasn’t just our church. Everyone I knew thought that Jesus was white as well (including many friends of color who had these same images of Jesus hanging on the walls of their churches). It wasn’t until I got to college that I began to question white images of Jesus. Slowly, I started to realize that Jesus descended from a long line of persons of color…Jesus’ parents were persons of color…Jesus was born in an area of persons of color…Jesus was by situation a person of color…in every definable way…Jesus was a person of color. Initially, I found such thoughts to be particularly disturbing. Everything I knew about Jesus seemed to crash down. I read text after text to try and figure all of this out. I talked to preacher after preacher. I constructed thought after thought. Ultimately, none of that really seemed to help. Then, one day…
In seminary, I was participating in a conference at an old wealthy white church. I stepped out of the session to go to the bathroom. Along the way, I found myself stopping in a classroom to look around. High on the wall at the front of the room hung an image of a white Jesus. As I looked at the image, I heard the words of the real Jesus (a person of color) say, “Follow me.” I didn’t hesitate. I went to the front of the room and ripped that image in half. In those moments, I received a call from God to an evangelism that has remained hidden until now…destroyer of images of the white Jesus. Ever since then, I haven’t stopped…
I would estimate that since graduate school, I have destroyed close to a thousand images of the white Jesus (mostly those mass-produced images that hang in room after room of old churches). Taking my cues from a Jesus of color that destroyed the temple, I am committed to destroying more. I am sharing all of this now because I hope others will join me. We need more evangelists of the real Jesus…the Jesus of color. Honestly, I can’t destroy all of the images…but together we can…
There is no reason for more children to grow up thinking that Jesus is white. Racism has lived and thrived in our churches for generations…due often (at least in part) to the fact that we keep passing along these blasphemous images of Jesus. For the sake of the gospel, may we destroy them all.
Amen.
+I want to make it clear that I am not talking about priceless works of art. I am talking about the senseless images that hang in so many of our churches.
++The attached image is a recent acquisition that I painted the words “Not White” over…which now hangs in our home.
