Those who find Three Dimensional Arm-Wrestling Jesus are more blessed than those who merely find regular Jesus,or who are born again, or just hear a lot about Jesus in church. I hold this opinion not just because He was found by my son, but because besides a personal Savior, when you find either one of my Jesuses, you get a male role model, an action figure and quite possibly an eternal superhero, in addition to being saved. Note that TDAWJ is arm-wrestling with Lucifer, and that the fallen angel, having all eternity to work on his guns, would seem to have the bigger biceps. Can Our Lord prevail? He seems to be holding his own, despite a forearm so slender he might get laughed off the set of Game of Arms. Good thing, too, because behind Him we see a background of pastoral tranquility, whereas behind the Devil the sky pulses blood-red with cloud types normally associated with the Apocalypse, or at least an extended episode of global warming. It is easy to imagine that when either combatant succeeds in slamming the other's wrist upon the table, his (or His) sky version will roll ominously (or gloriously) across the horizon like a cheap community playhouse stage set being cranked over for the next scene.
If you looking at this icon with an eye to worshiping it, but hesitate because it is a little blurry, let me assure you it is not because you are drunk, though of course I cannot guarantee that you are not. The image is blurry because my scanner is of this earth and cannot reproduce the full glory contained in the classic plastic of the original. If you view the mural live, the dermatological issues of Satan are lividly obvious. His horns seem to stick right out at you. The lips of Jesus are set with a grim certainty, as befits the Son of God. He knows He is on the side of the angels. In fact it is easy to imagine that they are standing right behind Him, pounding a few brews and making side bets on the outcome.
Does this mean I am inviting you over to contemplate my icons? Well, not exactly. The place needs cleaning up a bit first. And housecleaning always gives me an appetite, so if you can bring a hefty deli sandwich for me when you do come over, with potato salad, not macaroni salad, on the side, that would be nice. And a tall bottle of my favorite beer to wash it down would be extra thoughtful.
If you don't show up at all, rest assured I'll be okay with it. My Jesuses are all I really need. When I am troubled by the cares of this world, which mostly happens when I want to use a word that I know but which stubbornly refuses to surface from the murky depths of my brain, all I have to do is look at Them and suddenly I'll hear a small clear voice in my head saying "Why not look it up on thesaurus.com?"
And I do. And I see that it is good.