Last year, Outreach commissioned a new image of the Risen Christ reaching out to the LGBTQ community, from the artist Ruben Ferreira. I’ve long admired Mr. Ferreira’s work, which I know mainly through Instagram, and so was delighted when agreed to take the commission.
Images of Jesus with LGBTQ people are sometimes the source of controversy. Even though the image of Jesus has been inculturated into almost every conceivable geographic, ethnic and cultural setting—think of how many depictions you have seen of Jesus portrayed as an African, an Asian or Latin American—images of him alongside the LGBTQ community are rarer. As an aside, the most common images of Jesus—as a white man—are also the result of inculturation, in this case into European or American settings. While the Gospels do not tell us what Jesus looked like, given that he was a first-century man from Galilee, he probably did not have blond hair and blue eyes.
Perhaps the strongest negative response comes when people interpret images of Jesus among LGBTQ people as implying that he was LGBTQ himself, which is obviously found nowhere in the Gospels. (For the record, I don’t think Jesus was gay.)
That’s one of many reasons I welcome this beautiful new image by Mr. Ferreira, which avoids these controversies, while nonetheless portraying the Risen One with the LGBTQ community. (Ferreira used real-life models for his painting.) “The Risen Christ’s Outreach to LGBTQ People” shows the Risen One in the midst of a small group of LGBTQ people, ministering to them as friends and disciples. It is also a wonderful image for us to contemplate as Lent begins, a time when all of us hope to draw closer to Christ.
In Ruben Ferreira’s rendering, the Risen Christ shows LGBTQ people his wounds. They understand what this means.
One of the most wondrous things that the Gospels tell us about the Risen Christ is that he was raised to new life still bearing the wounds of the Crucifixion. (And, if we think about the Ascension, in some way Christ still bears his wounds in heaven.) In John’s Gospel, he asks the Apostle Thomas to both gaze upon the wounds on his hands and to put his own hands into the wounds on his side (Jn 20:24-29). The Greek word used is vivid: ballein, which means to throw or thrust. Jesus is inviting Thomas truly to probe and explore his wounds.
In Mr. Ferreira’s rendering, the Risen Christ shows LGBTQ people his wounds. They understand what this means. Many LGBTQ people have been physically wounded—killed, beaten, bullied. Some are endangered even today: in many parts of the world anti-LGBTQ violence is on the rise, especially against transgender people. Others have been wounded emotionally or mentally by family members or former friends who have rejected them. Still others, LGBTQ Catholics, have felt wounded by their own church. So LGBTQ people understand what it means to be wounded.
But they also understand new life! They understand what it means to come out of their tombs. And they understand the joy that comes with a new lease on life. You can see the smile on the Risen One’s face and you can see the smile on his friends’ faces as well. These people, like Christ, bear their wounds as they bare their joy.
The Gospels show us that Jesus always reached out to those who felt on the margins, as many LGBTQ people do today.
Jesus is close to these five people, relaxed enough to invite them not only to touch his wounds, but embrace him affectionately. In Mr. Ferreira’s painting, Jesus is in their midst as the Risen One is in the midst of the LGBTQ Catholic community today. The Gospels show us that Jesus consistently reached out to all those who felt on the margins, as many LGBTQ people feel today. And they reach out to him. Notice that Christ is also at the center, as he is the center of the lives of LGBTQ Christians today. His love for them is at the center of their world.
As I mentioned, Mr. Ferreira used as models LGBTQ Catholics from the Diocese of Westminster who, he wrote recently, “shared their time, stories, and faith.” He called the process a “delight.”
The artist also shared this brief reflection with us:
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 40:10)
This Scripture passage came to mind when thinking about sharing this painting. Jesus came for those on the peripheries, the marginalized, the outcasts, the vulnerable, the excluded, the foreigners. Jesus didn’t come to judge or throw stones or Bible verses at people. He came to love and embrace, heal and comfort, bring light and not shadows. Is your faith telling you to hate and exclude someone? To judge them? Let’s all be truly more like Jesus and love, welcome and listen instead.
Once, when I moved from one house to another, I found a note from when I was a teenager who was finding his faith. I asked God, in a short prayer, to make me invisible. But God didn’t create anyone to be invisible or to disappear. He created each of us with love, purpose and light. But that is often how LGBTQ people feel. I asked God to be invisible to be spared from the constant bullying and fear. Instead, God held my hand and didn’t let go until today.
This painting brings up my own wounds. I can see them next to the wounds of Christ, for they are also for me, for my redemption, all from his unconditional love. It is an invitation for everyone to share their own wounds with Jesus, understanding that our suffering is his suffering and that we are not alone.
This painting wasn’t done without fear. And I’m grateful for that. Discomfort leads to growth and healing. I believe in inclusion because of Jesus and the Scriptures, not in spite of them. May this help those feeling excluded, hurt, afraid, and wrongfully judge throughout these times. Let us all be courageous and dare to love, like Jesus did.
We are happy to share with you this new image by Ruben Ferreira: “The Risen Christ’s Outreach to LGBTQ People”.
