When Jesus Becomes Less Like Me


I’m writing this from my hotel room in Tiberias, Israel. My husband, Jay, surprised me for my 50th birthday with a trip to Israel. I’ll admit, I feel bit spoiled albeit grateful, and blessed to be here.

The night Jay and I arrived we decided to venture out in the dark and walk around the streets of Tiberias. Foreign food smells filled the cool air, exotic music and street vendors all called out “American’s! I work you a deal.”

Further down, we land on the steps of an ancient ruin that looked like an old church of some sort, but I couldn’t read the sign it was written in Hebrew. I’m tempted to stand on my head to read the letters. They appear to be upside down.

While walking back into the hotel and the pungent peppery smell the hotel releases into the air greeted me, I realized something.

Jesus wasn’t white.


Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never believed or even imagined Him white, but I never grasped His culture until now. He probably spoke his thick-throaty language using His hands like the men here do. He walked through exotic markets, and sampled foods like tangy olives, eggplant, ¬†pomegranate, and smoked fish. He lifted heavy stones to create homes. He danced to the exotic music at weddings. He walked along the seashore and rippled the Sea of Galilee skipping stones to clear His thoughts. He looked over the rocky edge of Mount Precipice as angry scribes threatened to throw Him over the cliff, but He slipped out of their grasp. He walked on water. He calmed the sea with His word. He…He…


Jesus Christ is being fleshed out in my mind.

We toured the Basilica of Annunciation in Nazareth, which stores the childhood home of Mary. ¬†Along the walls paintings hung, each from different countries illustrating Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. One artist was from the Philippines, and I couldn’t help but notice the Holy Family looked Filipino. The Canadian artist gave Him blue eyes and pale skin.

Maybe that’s what Christ wanted all along for us to see Him in ourselves and to see ourselves in Him. Seamless.

And just maybe, that’s not a bad thing after all.

Until next time…

Please note: We still have some relationship articles coming for the month of February. Please be patient with me while I’m traveling. Thanks

February 2020

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