So think a minute. How many times have you seen Jesus depicted as laughing?
Eyes lit, showing his teeth, like Mary Magdalene had just cracked
a great joke or Peter had tripped overboard into his nets again.
At the Broadway Church in Westport, four “laughing Jesus” portraits by different artists can be found banded together at the end of a hall. The earliest was published in Playboy in the early 1970s. The explanation on the wall:
“This is a totally new image of Jesus. There is simply no tradition of mirth in Christian art. It’s about time.”
They are just a sliver of a provocative collection of Christ pictures, some passed down as copies from antiquity, others original religious art picked up here and there by Paul Smith.
Smith, who retired in December after 49 years as pastor of the uber-liberal church, wrote the wall text, too.
About 240 versions of Jesus hang here, almost certainly the biggest gathering of his image in the city. Some are comfortable old friends from the walls of Sunday school. “Head of Christ” by Warner Sallman sold 450 million copies of the rather bland, blue-eyed savior.
Smith said 10 percent are originals, some a tad mind-blowing, such as the pregnant woman on the cross about to give birth.
“People either love that or hate it,” said Smith, 75, guiding visitors around the narrow halls and stairwells. No, the old Swedish Baptist Church was not designed to be a spacious, well-lit art gallery, but then, in which place would you be more likely to meet Jesus, anyway?
The permanent exhibit, which runs up and down staircases and into the sanctuary, is divided into four parts: The Human Face of God, The Many Moods of the Master, The Risen Cosmic Christ and The Face of Jesus in Every Person.
“The pictures help us see Jesus as a person, a human being like every one of us,” said Smith, who said he has come to believe that Jesus was not sent to die for the sins of mankind. “I decided God’s not going to send anybody to hell. God’s not mad at anybody.”
Almost all have wall text, which gives the viewer a little history and Smith’s take on the image.
He points out the many prints by Dali, Picasso — “Here’s Warhol’s ‘Last Supper.’ He went to Mass every morning.” — as well as Rembrandt, Raphael, Titian. A crucifixion by Edvard Munch (better known for “The Scream”). Another small one by Gauguin. An earlier piece by William Blake, “Albion Before Christ Crucified.”
While he does not care much for the flat-faced Orthodox icons, the mystical finds many places on the walls. Smith, who received his master of divinity from Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, has become more mystical himself, he says. He admires the work of Alex Gray.
Smith points out a small, easy-to-miss copy of graffito found scratched on a Rome wall. The Christian (Jesus?) on the cross has the head of a donkey. It may be the earliest known depiction. It’s next to the face from the Shroud of Turin.
A few feet away is the largest image — a life-size, naked and suffering Christ, powerful in its unique quilt medium. Lent by Janet Patek, a local quilter, “Eli, Eli” was created in 1990s.
Still, so many different artists, old and new, focus on the crucifixion: one looked straight down in a God’s-eye view. Andrea Mantegna’s riveting 15th-century “The Lamentation Over the Dead Christ” cast the viewer’s eye almost between the bloodless Jesus’ pierced feet, and Picasso … well … you tell me.
Smith is proud of the breadth of his collection, which reflects his own broadmindedness.
“I have people from all over the country to see it,” he said. “They may not remember my sermons, but they’ll remember my pictures … although some of my sermons were pretty controversial, too.”
At the Broadway Church in Westport, four “laughing Jesus” portraits by different artists can be found banded together at the end of a hall. The earliest was published in Playboy in the early 1970s. The explanation on the wall:
“This is a totally new image of Jesus. There is simply no tradition of mirth in Christian art. It’s about time.”
They are just a sliver of a provocative collection of Christ pictures, some passed down as copies from antiquity, others original religious art picked up here and there by Paul Smith.
Smith, who retired in December after 49 years as pastor of the uber-liberal church, wrote the wall text, too.
About 240 versions of Jesus hang here, almost certainly the biggest gathering of his image in the city. Some are comfortable old friends from the walls of Sunday school. “Head of Christ” by Warner Sallman sold 450 million copies of the rather bland, blue-eyed savior.
Smith said 10 percent are originals, some a tad mind-blowing, such as the pregnant woman on the cross about to give birth.
“People either love that or hate it,” said Smith, 75, guiding visitors around the narrow halls and stairwells. No, the old Swedish Baptist Church was not designed to be a spacious, well-lit art gallery, but then, in which place would you be more likely to meet Jesus, anyway?
The permanent exhibit, which runs up and down staircases and into the sanctuary, is divided into four parts: The Human Face of God, The Many Moods of the Master, The Risen Cosmic Christ and The Face of Jesus in Every Person.
“The pictures help us see Jesus as a person, a human being like every one of us,” said Smith, who said he has come to believe that Jesus was not sent to die for the sins of mankind. “I decided God’s not going to send anybody to hell. God’s not mad at anybody.”
Almost all have wall text, which gives the viewer a little history and Smith’s take on the image.
He points out the many prints by Dali, Picasso — “Here’s Warhol’s ‘Last Supper.’ He went to Mass every morning.” — as well as Rembrandt, Raphael, Titian. A crucifixion by Edvard Munch (better known for “The Scream”). Another small one by Gauguin. An earlier piece by William Blake, “Albion Before Christ Crucified.”
While he does not care much for the flat-faced Orthodox icons, the mystical finds many places on the walls. Smith, who received his master of divinity from Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, has become more mystical himself, he says. He admires the work of Alex Gray.
Smith points out a small, easy-to-miss copy of graffito found scratched on a Rome wall. The Christian (Jesus?) on the cross has the head of a donkey. It may be the earliest known depiction. It’s next to the face from the Shroud of Turin.
A few feet away is the largest image — a life-size, naked and suffering Christ, powerful in its unique quilt medium. Lent by Janet Patek, a local quilter, “Eli, Eli” was created in 1990s.
Still, so many different artists, old and new, focus on the crucifixion: one looked straight down in a God’s-eye view. Andrea Mantegna’s riveting 15th-century “The Lamentation Over the Dead Christ” cast the viewer’s eye almost between the bloodless Jesus’ pierced feet, and Picasso … well … you tell me.
Smith is proud of the breadth of his collection, which reflects his own broadmindedness.
“I have people from all over the country to see it,” he said. “They may not remember my sermons, but they’ll remember my pictures … although some of my sermons were pretty controversial, too.”
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