My Jealous and Merciful God
What was your earliest image of God?
Were you introduced to a loving father figure in heaven who would do anything for you, even die a brutal death to save your soul?
Or maybe it was the image of a cerebral God reaching out to man painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
Was it a statue that you saw inside a church or an image imprinted in your catechism booklet as a child? Or was it the Eucharist?
Maybe like me, you saw an image of God for the first time through film.
I recall being drawn to the music that was blaring from our living room. Mom and dad were watching the 70’s British rock opera, “Jesus Christ, Superstar” on television.
The dramatic and theatrical sounds masterfully orchestrated by Andrew Lloyd Weber stirred my imagination.
I took in the lyrics asking a man if he knew who they said he was (Whoever “they” were!)—and I wanted to know!
“Who is that man?” I asked my father. I was no older than six years old.
But I remember very vividly, the display of women in the musical who donned shapely legs thrust forth in a pose like the rock star, Tina Turner.
These images were accompanied by flashes of a man carrying a cross, and I wanted to know what was happening.
Mom and dad were not practicing Catholics. They weren’t practicing anything. In fact, it wasn’t until much later on that I learned that my father didn’t believe in a Trinitarian God.
So, had it not been for the hair-raising music I heard and the images it conjured up in my mind’s eye, I wouldn’t have had a sense that anything very real and important was happening in those film shots I saw toward the end of that movie.
As far as I understood at the time, an innocent man named Jesus, was being killed on a cross because no one seemed to know who he was.
Jesus was poorly understood and betrayed by a friend! Jeepers!
By the time friends invited me to their Presbyterian church, I started to connect the dots for myself in my way.
I learned the song, “Jesus Loves Me” to no avail. I recognized the name from the movie, but sadly, still didn’t know who Jesus was until I learned that he was God’s one and only obedient son.
Now mix that in with tales from catechism of a vengeful God who flooded the world in anger and destroyed cities. When I inquired about what happened to the innocent children in those cities, I was told that they were not spared.
Combine that with a dash of a father who would allow his son to be bullied and put to death on a cross and try to line that up with images of a loving God. It just didn’t work.
But then a family friend said we were at the “wrong” church. Sigh of relief? No. I still didn’t get it after attending catechism at a Catholic church.
All I understood was an innocent man went to his death, because he loved us and was brought back to life three days later.
The image of the crucifix I saw in the Catholic church solidified the main message of the Christian faith in a way that was consistent within the walls of any other Christian church I visited regardless of whether that same image was there or not.
It was perfect for individuals like me who needed things, such as icons, to make connections, especially with key understandings or learning objectives. Think Symbology for Dummies.
Yes. Those were my early days. I was a late, but fierce Catholic bloomer.
I published my story of these and other mishaps that can be downloaded for free at https://kolakgroup.com/e-books/.
It chronicles how I’ve been getting my understanding of this whole “theo-drama” straightened out over the course of my life and was called by the Lord to be an evangelist.
That meant that I had to really sharpen my apologetics, especially for those conversations that unfolded among those who would point negative fingers at my Catholic faith.
Among all of the attacks on the Catholic Church that I encountered over the years, the one that has been most interesting to me is the argument over our visual images: our crucifixes, our statues, our paintings and even the Eucharist.
And, now, as we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday with the veneration of the image of Christ in St. Faustina’s commissioned painting with the words, “Jesus, I Trust in You”, I feel the need to express my thoughts concerning the use of the second commandment against the teachings of the Catholic Church.
First, and foremost, I acknowledge that I was evangelized through the use of visuals.
It was once said that if a picture is worth a thousand words, then a piece of music is worth a thousand pictures.
Music was and has always been the most inspirational means for me to connect with the divine.
Music has provided me with a stairway to heaven, a means to intuit that God even exists. And when used appropriately, it has been the greatest storyteller about the greatest man that ever lived—Jesus Christ.
Music continues to inspire me today. Because of this fact about myself, I recognize that I knew and recognized the Holy Spirit before I came to know who Jesus really was, although I’d seen depictions of him in film and pictures.
Think about all the Psalms and consider how the Bible is loaded with verses about how musicians were always gathered to provide appropriate praise and worship to the Lord.
So, I was gifted with a very sharp sense that God is way beyond any visual image that we can conjure up of him as a no-brainer.
When I read the verses, I understand how statues and paintings come into question.
You shall not make for yourself an idol or a likeness of anything in the heavens above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you shall not bow down or serve them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God, inflicting punishment for their ancestors’ wickedness on the children of those who hate me, down to the third and fourth generation; but showing love down to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments. (Ex 20:4-6)
In fact, the Church went through a rough period of time when statues, icons, and other religious images were destroyed. Christians argued internally as to whether or not it was a good idea to have these things in our personal possession, much less within the walls of our houses of God.
I’ve heard it argued that these images are not idols. They are like having family photographs around your house, keeping your loved ones at the forefront of your thoughts.
So, why not Jesus or the Blessed Mother? Further, statues, icons, and such can serve as simple reminders or memory aids for biblical teachings. They are not God.
When anything becomes your God, other than God, that is the offense.
Consequently, I’ve found myself having to defend the Eucharist. In Luke 22:19, we learn that it was Jesus, who is God, who instituted the Eucharist saying, This is my body, which will be given for you; do this in memory of me.”
So, we follow his command and do this at each Mass in memory of him. We partake of the Eucharist that becomes God.
So, isn’t this an offense of God’s commandment to have no idols?
No. God commanded all of creation into being according to Genesis. When he said, “Let there be light,” Genesis 1:3 says, “… and there was light”.
Likewise, when Jesus said, “This is my body”, the unleavened bread became his body. He commanded it so.
The picture depicts St. Juan Diego, holding up an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe when the flowers he picked fell out of his tilma. It is drawn by Cindy Kolak in the style of the 1987 album cover for “Man of Colours” by Australian rock band, Icehouse.
When we repeat this in remembrance of him each time at Mass, we are encountering the true presence of Christ again and again in the Eucharist, in the Word, and in the gathering of two or more people in his name.
We remember what he did for us out of his great love when we see the crucifix behind the altar.
For our God is a jealous God—jealous meaning “protective”, not envious or spiteful out of a desire to possess us.
He is our guardian who offers us free will, with the understanding that although he offers us his Divine Mercy, the consequences of our sins impact future generations.
I invite you to join me and all the other faithful devoted to Mercy Himself—our Lord Jesus Christ, in the recitation of the Chaplet of Divine Mercy as we venerate the painting of Jesus with the words “Jesus, I Trust in You” at 3 p.m. on Divine Mercy Sunday.
Learn more about Divine Mercy and how to pray the Chaplet.
About Cindy Kolak:
Cynthia Cardenas-Kolak is a lifelong learner, teacher, independent scholar, and author who has trained other trainers, teachers, and administrators on best instructional practices for diverse learners. She has been a member of Prince of Peace Catholic Community for seven years and resides in northwest Houston with her husband and son. As an active participant in her parish, she has served in multiple roles including pastoral care volunteer, funeral coordinator, small group facilitator of book studies with Catholic WE and the parish at large, LOVING STONES, and has a strong calling to the New Evangelization.
Favorite Scriptures: “Give thanks to the Lord on the harp; on the ten-stringed lyre offer praise. Sing to him a new song; skillfully play with joyous chant.” (Ps 33:3)
“Call to me, and I will answer you; I will tell you things beyond the reach of your knowledge.” (Jer 33:2-3)
