Forgive Them!
cause: RELIGION & SOCIAL WELFARE
now benefiting: The General Board of Global Ministries,
United Methodist Committee on Relief (UMCOR)

Many Cause Collection artifacts are inspired by a matrix of influences. However, that is not the case with this work, for it was inspired by a vision experienced while dreaming. The experience began with an overwhelming fragrance of roses in full bloom, a scent I associated with funeral services. I sensed I was moving through a violet-indigo mist, circumnavigating a dynamically magnetic figure in a clockwise direction. Each revolution seemed to bring my perspective more into focus. Abruptly, my movement was arrested and my focus became keen, much like a television sporting event's freeze frame photo. Peering directly at the mysterious figure from its side, I saw a man spread eagle on a cross. Suddenly, I realized I was a flying insect witnessing the crucifixion of Jesus the Christ. Consequently, the magnitude of this understanding immediately woke me, ensuring the transmission of my subconscious vision to my consciousness.

Shortly thereafter, I painted the first version of this image to hang in a one-man-show at a West 57th Street gallery in Manhattan. During the opening, a nervous woman approached me with a wide-eyed look. Once she confirmed that I was the work’s creator, she could barely contain herself. She adamantly declared, “This work proves it, it definitely proves it, it proves it beyond a doubt! It proves there are indeed past life experiences! See, obviously you were the thief nailed up on the cross beside Christ, and this was the last thing you saw before you died!” There proved to be similarities in the symbolism of the thief on His left and a fly, namely connotations of evil and corruption. Although the Church officially forbids the execution of images of Christ from the left (“sinister” in Latin), portraying Him from the left is the best angle to capture His response to those on the left.

Years later, while walking back to my home on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, I noticed a four-panel wooden door sticking out of the top of a street-side dumpster. The sun was at such an angle that it cast bold shadows within each panel, highlighting the space between the panels. Being upside down, the proportions of the panel design appeared as a cross, an ideal surface to paint a larger rendition of my mystical vision.

After removing its hardware and remnants of a toilet paper dispenser from its transept, the door was mended and painted within forty-eight hours. Intentionally, it was complete in time for the 1960th anniversary of the actual crucifixion of a Jew originally named Jescua Hammassiah.

Considering there is no substitute for context, I carried this thirty-five-pound door on the streets of Manhattan for over a hundred blocks the following day. Beginning at 90th Street on the Upper West Side, moseying down Columbus Avenue, the work momentarily rested on the corner of West 72nd Street where a pedestrian acknowledged, “That’s right, it is Good Friday! Thanks.” After another respot and respite, it appeared for a while at Columbus Circle where a cabby tooted, gave a thumbs up, and hollered “Great day to have Him out!” While walking along the sidewalks of West 57th Street, a crowd of rambunctious youngsters waited in line in front of the Hard Rock Cafe. When passing by, one outspoken whippersnapper exclaimed “Hey! Have door, will travel. Huh?” Setting the door to rest with its image facing their direction, the boisterous crowd was immediately humbled into awesome silence.

Parading down 5th Avenue, the work was set to rest on the steps of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral where a crowd of worshiping admirers instantly gathered once someone acknowledged “Oh my God, look at this! That’s something amazing, I mean really amazing!” Shortly thereafter a policeman joined the crowd. Once he established I was responsible for the work, he proclaimed, “Sorry son, you gotta move along.” As I compliantly agreed to remove the work, the officer stopped me and clarified “No, you don’t understand. I’m an Irish cop kickin’ Jesus Christ offa the steps of St. Patrick’s on Good Friday mornin’! I’m sorry to hafta ask you to go, cuz it’s quite good. Just take Him across the street, since that’s OK with the Church.” So, I did so, and on the way I happened to have a ‘religious experience.’

As I carried the door across the street, there sounded a voice from the gutter. A ‘street person’ flat out on the sidewalk cried “That’s Jesus! That’s Jesus Christ aint it? Can I check Him out?” I acknowledged the man and responded to his questions by gesturing to a nearby tree embedded in the sidewalk where the work would soon rest. He rose ever so slowly with great attention to keeping his balance. After shuffling along the sidewalk, he meandered around to face the image with his swaggering body and bloodshot eyes. His strong scent dominated the air as he managed to stand staring intently at the image. He then turned to cautiously request “Can I give Him a hug?” Reverently stepping up to the door, he hugged it wholeheartedly, seemingly tapping its energy to support his being. Engaged in the intimate embrace, he turned his head and courteously urged “Can I kiss Him on the lips?” After receiving a nod of approval, his lips touched those of Christ. His impassioned kiss seemed to draw life-sustaining breath directly from the door-bound image.

Having resuscitated his spirit, the man then turned abruptly around with his chest and chin held high. While he was giving me a spontaneous bear hug, I suddenly realized his scent was now much like that in the dream that inspired the image. With crystal clear eyes he beamed “Thanks man, you really made my day.” Humbled by his faith, I requested a photo with him, which he surprisingly granted. Once we exchanged our “Goodbyes,” he rapidly vanished into the street.

(Incidentally, the word “Goodbye” is a contraction of the phrase “God be with you.”)

© 1999-2003 Parkinson Pino, Creativity within Reason, All rights reserved.