The Human Face of God

 CHRIST IN WINTER: Reflections On Faith & Life For The Years Of Winter: The Human Face of God [W, 12-21-22]

 

When I was the ten-year-old new kid on the school bus, one of my fellow riders, about my age, said, “My father says that the worst white man is still better than the best black man.”

He said it like he wanted to believe his father, but as though it didn’t sound quite right. I didn’t say anything, even though I knew it wasn’t right, because I was afraid to talk in those days. I knew it was wrong, though, because I lived in the real world, the world of facts and knowledge and logic and common sense. I knew what was going on.

That surprised my teachers during my first 4 school years in Indianapolis, because in their report card comments, they noted that I could not spell and I could not write and I could not read and I could not talk, including the obligatory reading aloud.

They also all commented, however, on how well-informed I was in social studies and current events. How could a kid who couldn’t read or write or spell or talk know that much?

I think that was because those were WWII years, and my beloved uncles, the younger brothers of my parents, were in the army and air force and navy and marines. The whole family listened each night to H.V. Kaltenborn on the radio, to the news of all the theaters of the war.

That led me to seek out news of the world in other places. I listened, and I learned. So I was not taken in by that “any white man is better” stuff. I knew about George Washington Carver and Booker T. Washington. And I knew how to think.

That school bus experience was 20 years before the Civil Rights movement. I learned that a lot of people believed the same way as my school bus friend’s father, as non-sensical as it was. They wanted to believe it because it meant that they always had someone they could look down on, regardless of how miserable and unsuccessful their own lives were.

That’s why Trump is so appealing to many people, despite the common sense that he is a charlatan and scammer. Trump claims he is successful and wealthy when he isn’t. We identify with that. We want to think we are successful even though we aren’t. Trump claims that he gets cheated out of what is rightfully his. We identify with that. We feel like we get cheated out of ours, too. Trump claims that he is better and more deserving that others just because of who he is, not because of merit. We identify with that. We want to believe that about ourselves, too.

It is easier for us to relate to a person than to a theory or to reason. Christians should understand that. After all, we say that Jesus of Nazareth is the human face of God. He’s easier to relate to than some distant deity. The more out of control your life is, the more you need to simplify. The easiest simplification is through relating to a person. “Heil, Trump!" “Save me, Jesus! Come, Lord Jesus!”

That’s why so many people claim that Hitler or Elvis or whoever their savior is still lives. We want, need, some PERSON, who can go with us through the valley of the shadow of death…without any of those black people or gay people or educated people who think they’re better than we are. When we look into the mirror, we want to see the face of God.

But here’s the crux, and the point of Christmas: Jesus says that you’ll never see the face of God when you look into the mirror. You’ll only see the human face of God when you look into the face of your neighbor, your fellow human being.

I suppose my grade school teachers would be surprised that I lived my life as a talker, and as a writer. I hope they would not be surprised that most of that talking and writing was to say that we do have a Person to whom we can hitch our wagons, and that Persons says that the best white man and the best black man should walk together to help everyone be better.

John Robert McFarland