Christ Defiled

One day, a man named Andre Serrano held a perfectly white figurine of the crucified Christ in his hands. He twirled it with his fingers, careful not to smudge the cleanliness and purity of the object—wondering if any such caution was necessary. He squinted his eyes and asked himself: what was this man?

He paused. He lifted it up. A beam of sunlight hit the face of Jesus, causing it to glow yellow and orange. And Serrano knew what he must do. He grabbed a jar, peed in it, and placed the Christ within. He took a photograph. He named it Immersion, or “Piss Christ," and it quickly became an art world sensation.

Or maybe that’s not the story at all. But whatever happened, it amounted to this (and a lot of political and social tension).

I still remember the first day that I saw it. I was taking a course called "Blue Smoke and Mirrors" and we were focusing on Ways of Seeing, looking at different pieces of art and discussing their impact. This one was introduced to us as a "controversial piece”. Some smirked. Some cringed. I paused and admired it—the amber hues that illuminated the hazy Christ, His head bowed, and His right hand in such focus, emphasizing the nail that pinned it there. It’s not that I am indifferent to the defilement of Christ, or the degrading of His image. But something heavier rested on my heart as I allowed myself to truly see what I was looking at.

Perhaps the one who has defiled Christ is not the artist. Sometimes art is not intended to put forth a new idea; sometimes art is intended, merely, to capture and to confront the truth of what already is. Perhaps we, Christians, have defiled the very Christ we claim to know and love. Perhaps we have made Him undesirable to those He loves, and those He seeks.

Immersion reminds me of hypocrisy. I think of it, and pause. I cannot take offense. He has asked me, simply, to be a reflection of His love: to give it freely and without restraint. And the only way to lift Christ from Serrano’s jar, is to do so.