The Green Jesus

I am a warped individual, and I know how this came to be. When I tell you the story some of you will relate.

It was The Green Jesus (that is what I call it. I don’t know what the painter called it.) that did it. The Green Jesus screwed up my mind. Royally. Anyway at least that’s my theory.

The Green Jesus is a painting that we had in our family home for as long as I can remember. The Green Jesus was a life-sized painting of a dead looking man that was rendered in shades of black, white, and army green. He looked really dead.

My mother found the painting somewhere in Minneapolis and she thought the painter was going to be an important painter, so she thought buying this artist’s work was going to be a good investment. I don’t know the name of the painter, so I don’t know if he ever went on to be “important”. I only know that his painting loomed over our life for years. We got used to it. There it was, filling one wall of our dinky living room floor to ceiling. You came through the front door, and you immediately locked eyes on what seemed to be a Dead Man. It was riveting. You couldn’t take your eyes off it. But we saw it so often we no longer thought we were affected by it.

To be fair it was a beautifully rendered painting. The folds of the satin shroud were perfectly executed like a gown on a rich lady in a John Singer Sargent painting. The gnarled veined arms and hands were lithe and strong looking. The serene face was full of peace.

And yet…

I don’t know. Maybe that image served as a constant reminder that life is fleeting. Life is short. It certainly was not a joyful painting. But at least it was not gory in any way to be sure like some religious paintings. It was ghastly all the same. How can a person grow up with that image following you around as you walk through the room to another room in a small house and not think the eyes are upon you? The eyes weren’t painted to be open but all the same if you have a vivid imagination, you might think that the eyes do open once you turn away and they are following you, making sure you are doing the right thing. You don’t want to end up like me, do you?

But years of that Green Thing in your life eventually makes you immune at least in your conscious mind. You forget that he’s looming. You forget that he’s even there. You’re only reminded if you, in a fleeting moment, happen to gaze in his direction and there he is.

I am glad that I eventually moved away from him. I had forgot Mom still had him. Now my sister has him in her living room and she’s going to Bible studies because as she claims, she’s trying to become a better person. I say, “You’re the best person I know. Why do you think you need to be better?” And then I remember. It’s The Green Jesus.

Mind your P’s and Q’s.