Thomas Middlebrook Dr.

Sweeney, Adv Amer Xity 4-23-14, CPO 1804 Review of Harvey and Blums Color of Christ You look like Jesus, said my brother to my college freshman self after a year away from our barber, aka mom. I could only approve of the likeness my long, brown hair, blue eyes, and ruddy complexion had with the images we grew up with of our God-man. That image is a myth, yet for these WWJD bracelet wearing southern evangelicals, it was a true myth because biblically speaking Jesus was a man like us. But the weight of that myth pressed inappropriately in other parts of our convictions; we had to be taught that Jesus looked different than we did in a conscious process of unlearning (15). Into such contexts, this work studies how certain Jesus figures achieved social notoriety, how they influenced and were influenced by political, racial, economic, and cultural transformations, and how various groups have lived with these images, transformed them, and attempted to dethrone the prevailing figures (13, emphasis mine). The authors worked with a basic assumption, that looking at Jesus image would be to reckon with the making and power of race [in America] (14). Two arguments would militate against this assumption: (1) Jesus image was never engaged in racially charged situations and (2) the image of Jesus was a stable and received tradition, both of which are blatantly shown not to be the case. The iconoclasm, often anti-Catholicism, of early American Puritanism shows the later acquisition of visual portrayals of Jesus to be intentional. The authors do not address the probable, enduring Enlightenment ideologies of the physical body and religion, but they do show that when it came to the person of Jesus, the iconoclastic position was an unstable one. Christian speculation of the budding story of America put most of the peoples here into one of two eschatological mindsets: founders of a new, utopian Israel or sufferers under the new,

dystopic Rome. In either event, Jesus was essential and sympathetic. For the new Israelites, whether secular progressive nationalists or post-Millennialists or Mormons, Jesus identification with their race condoned their social and economic ascendancy. For the new martyrs, whether converted African or Caribbean slaves or Natives, Jesus identification with their suffering dignified their race and sanctioned their critique of their Roman oppression, ironically the very ones styling themselves as Israel. These claims and aspirations of the Euro-Americans did find some expression in their image of Jesus, although the authors claim: The white Jesus promised a white past, a white present, and a future of white glory, (16) is perhaps a bit grandiose. Blum and Harvey trace the development of Christs color from the bloody red and blinding light in the visions of the settlers and Natives, to the increasingly white and black scenario in the nineteenth century onwards. In order to justify the authenticity of their evaluation of Jesus images from this period, the authors are forced to utilize more than illustrations, delving into hymnody, poems, and prose alike to capture a better picture from those groups who had little access to graphic, public media. Secondly, they are forced to trace contemporaneous stories of American engagement with Jesus person in order gauge what affect his appearance had. What comes to the fore is that for both believers and haters of Jesus, his ethnicity was an essential topic for those seeking influence. The contradiction of Jesus personal influence, then, was increasingly reflected in verbal and visual depictions of his skin color. By the conclusion of the Civil War, one might have presumed that Jesus had spoken more definitively concerning racial equality than the Reconstruction race conflicts would reveal. Certainly a peak was surmounted, but the descent was still rocky. The authors explain, Rhetorically, Beecher [and his post-Civil War readership] acknowledged Jesus as nonwhite but visually rendered him white. By offering separate and

conflicting messages from the text and the image, Beecher began the process by which whites could embed whiteness into their sacred worldviews without having to say it out loud (139). That predicament is argued to still be with us today. It is not as though Jesus color was static. Far from it. Native ghost dances, the Harlem Renaissance, and scores of hybrid-Catholics began to produced the Son in their own image and color. However, these counter-movements came a bit late. The appearance of Sallmans Head of Christ, with its outrageous, trans-denominational appeal, demonstrates that the game had already been tipped squarely in favor of the white Jesus. Again, Blum and Harvey understand that this is not a contradiction to the more balanced rhetorical and theological position of most Americans, but they do emphasis the extensive influence the mass realia of the white Jesus has had. All the same, immigrant and minority groups have colored in the rainbow skin of Christ; even while Black and red Americans had done the heavy lifting and bore the burdens of making it acceptable to render Jesus beyond the parameters of whiteness (237). This story is one closely tied to theology and its influence upon specific pieces of media. The thesis could have been more strongly maintained had there been a frank discussion of art theory and a more focused critique of individual pieces. A stronger presence of the images in question is also in order. For instance, the statements made concerning the black power fist in The Wales Window for Alabama and the distanced position of the black child in Coppings The Hope of the World are misleading, in my opinion. The thesis, however, does show the bidirectional influence America and Jesus have had upon each other. One wonders which is worse for the wear?