Seeking Refuge with a Heavy Heart
The early summer sunshine draped around my shoulders and beamed on the top of my head, making my morning walk feel more laborious than desired at the moment. However, I was thankful for the warmth of the sun and the chance to stretch my legs.
For the past month, I had been immersed in the fluorescent lighting and forced air of Cincinnati Children’s Hospital. The daily rhythm of hospital life had begun to take its toll. The numbness that accompanies prolonged periods of big emotional swings had started to set in. On this day, a walk was just what the doctor ordered.
A Startling Encounter
As I walked down the sidewalk in the city neighborhood of Clifton, my thoughts flowed through the river of my mind, leaving an imaginary wake of questions and concerns behind each step. I notice a beautiful old stone church up ahead. I slowed my pace to take in its gothic charm. As I scanned the architecture, my heart nearly leaped from my chest, startled to see a person lying under a blanket on the bench in the church courtyard.
My first instinct was to turn away and quickly move on. In my hesitation of how to react, I noticed the lifelessness of the scene and realized it was a bronze statue. A little ashamed of my initial reaction, I walked closer to investigate.
The body of Jesus lay under the blanket with his bare, pierced feet exposed. Like a hammer, the image slammed into me and rattled me from the headspace I had occupied for the last month. Wow, before me lay the body of Christ, tired, cold, weak, hungry, and homeless.
Recognizing the Image of God
Then as now, the enormity of the message that this simple statue unassumingly puts on display does not escape me. It was for me a moment of forever perspective shift. That thing that once you see it, you can’t unsee it. We are all the image of God (Genesis 1:27), like the bronze statue, a reflection of the creator, reflecting the body of Christ to the world around us. A beautiful sentiment if we hold it on its surface and allow it to dissipate with the breath from which it was delivered. An incredibly unsettling, almost scary truth if we allow its heaviness to bore into us. If this message is true, those “Others” are not Others at all; they are you, me, we, and we are him. The body of Christ, in the image of God.
Reflecting the Body of Christ: Why We Must Stop “Othering”
The person under the blanket with a drug addiction, a criminal record, a history of bad choices, a victim of violence or power, a mental illness, or anyone in a situation that leads to the loss of shelter is him, and in turn, us. We can’t escape it no matter how hard we try, and boy, do we try. We jump over it, dig under it, run around the side of it, and try to push it out of our way to no avail. The truth stands firm. An immovable obstacle to our selfish need to blame, judge, and “other” those around who are unpleasant to see. The late artist Prince wrote a song that Joan Osborne made into a hit in the 90’s. It asked the question What if God was one of us? The truth is, in a way he is.
This was a lovely article to read this morning. My husband, Jason Leo, was the priest at Calvary Church from 2000-2015, and was responsible for commissioning and placing the statue there. It was not originally a popular decision among parishioners or neighbors! I’m glad it was a source of comfort and insight for you. The sculptor (I’ve forgotten his name) is internationally renowned for works like this one. (Coincidentally, Jason is keeping busy during his retirement as a part-time Chaplain at Children’s Hospital, and indeed, those long walks outside are necessary🙏🏻)