The He in Art - yinlunghuang

One day Jesus is walking down the halls of the greatest free art gallery in the world. Why? Because He’s the judge of a competition. Theme? Create the most beautiful piece from the very bottom of your heart with the best you can muster on something one love the most. He looked at one picture, observing it, then moved to another. But then, something is missing in those works. Not detail; they have plenty of detail. Not colour; there are lots of colours. Compilation? All the best. He’s watching everything a professional can pour. Eheheh…you must be thinking they must have drawn something that would win his favour but no, no one knows who’s the judge but Himself. A long time was spent on viewing the pieces in hopes of finding the ‘thing’ He is looking for, but there’s none.


“None of these satisfies me…” He sighed, “Maybe the thing I’m looking for is elsewhere.” So, he decided to take a break and look at all the other artwork in the world via the internet.

With just a thought, he walked down the galleries in the digital world in the form of a magnificent, golden corridor with many, many doors that stretch endlessly. On the doors are the artist’s name and featured work, but Jesus need not open every door…he knew what is there before he opened them.

“Hmmm…”
“Death…hate…violence…” He shook His head sadly when he stopped at one door, “And this child is just 15.”
“Politics, satire, dark humour,” He looked at the other, “A sad cynical soul who is harping on the negatives of life. Can’t really blame this lad…”

He continued down and He saw a big star on the door of one gallery. People’s favourite. On the door is a picture of a cute little girl with an umbrella. Nothing wrong with it, so He opened the door and looked at the other pictures. Everything is clean, but… ‘it’ is not there. In fact, almost everything he sees are either cute, or fanart of a particular game! He is happy that this artist is clean and is using the gift of art properly in a sense there’s nothing obscene in it, but the person did not draw anything to thank Him for giving the gift. Sadly, he moved on.

Then along the way, he saw another star above the picture. Another favourite. But he uttered a cry of repulsion when He took a closer look. “Ugh!” He shook his head, “Such language and such message! They’ve distorted something I had intended to be good!” In deep disgust, He quickly left.


On the Next few doors, He saw more starred artwork and non-starred artwork. On his left were all fanart, and the right art other art such as photography.

First, on the left.

“Ragnarok Online…Zelda, more Ragnarok Online… Final Fantasy, Megaman series, Grant Theft Auto...” suddenly He closed his eyes in pain, “Yaoi! Yuri! Homosexuality had spread to the world of fanart so soon???” He could not look at them anymore and turned his back against them, “And they are just fictional characters! First idolatry, now adultery? Some of these go as far as rape!”

At least the pictures on the right are more pleasant to the eyes. Many of them were shots of Nature, His work. He felt happy that these people manage to capture a one-in-a-million scene of one of His day job, namely running the universe. There are some shots featuring the human body, mostly women. Unfortunately, some of them were a bit TOO suggestive for His taste…


Of course, He knows not all art are bad. Many works of art out there hailed and praised Him…but there seem to be more of the reverse. What saddened Him the most were pictures portraying HATE towards Him…and one of it was not far away. The picture says that He’s a fake, nothing more than another politician, nothing more than a myth, nothing more than just another good man…and some drew and wrote things proudly proclaiming that He doesn’t exist.

“Please!” a little girl cried out, “I want to submit this for the competition!”
“Ahahaha!” the guard laughed, “With that picture? You just cut the paper from a paper bag and drew it with charcoal!”
“Because I have nothing else!”

“What is going on?” He asked, and the guard reverently bowed down to respect Him.


“Jesus!” she exclaimed with delight. That alone was music to Jesus’ ears, especially after all the not-so-nice things He saw.

“This girl wants to submit her drawing for the competition, my lord” the guard could not resist a chuckle, but the glance on Jesus’ eyes stopped Him. Swallowing, the guard continued, “I don’t want her to be laughed at by the professionals.”

“But you’re already laughing at her! What difference is it for you to prevent others from laughing when you already did it?” Jesus rebuked. The guard the kept silent, realising how he behaved was wrong and apologized to the little girl, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she chirpily forgives the guard who laughed at her.

Jesus was delighted when He saw how easily the girl forgives someone who had laughed at her. He then asked, “May I see it?” and bent forward a little with both of his hands outstretched.


“Sure!” she gladly gave the piece of paper to Him.

The paper was brown, and not of the best of quality. It looked like it was cut out from a paper bag like the guard mentioned. He looked at the girl and noticed that her face is slightly dirty and her clothes worn and a little torn, complete with several patches. In the midst of the poor unkempt look were two bright, innocent eyes beaming with energy and delight. Then, He returned to the picture which was a brown cross, crooked, with droplets dripping at the edges; drawn to signify shedding blood. Then there were two charcoal-drawn stick figures, one a girl, and the other resembling himself, Jesus. Even the stick figures were not that good for a stick figure. He noticed that one shoulder of his was longer than the other, but it did not matter. Also written in charcoal are these words cramped on the small piece of paper, words that touched Him the most:

I luv Jesus. No Jesus. No Luv. He die to luv me, so I luv Him.

With a smile, he gladly proclaimed, “This child is the winner of the competition!”


“What?!” the guard, who is the only one other than the child standing there exclaimed in surprise, “Why???”

“Because this is her best, most heartfelt piece; more heartfelt than anything and everything I saw in the list of contestants,” He said.

“I don’t understand,” said the guard. Confused and puzzled.

“You see, she gave everything she has to make this piece for me even though she had little to give. Even with almost nothing, she thanked me and professed her love for Me. I had blessed so many others with much more, yet they did not say “thank you”. Some even denied my very existence with the gifts I had instilled in their wombs,” He explained, “I rather have a child’s picture with the message of love than to have a masterpiece with the message of hate. I rather have stick figures glorifying me than to have a proper drawing of the artist’s idol.” Smiling back at the delighted little girl, He warps it up by saying, “What matters most is the heart, not the art.”

Heart is made up of “He” and “Art” for a reason.


Is He in your art?