Herbie. For some, that distinctive name calls to mind memories of a long-lost uncle, but for most of us, Herbie was a 1963 Volkswagon Bug, white with red and blue racing stripes, prominently displaying a large number 53 on its hood and doors.
A first glance, Herbie was a harmless and charming little vehicle—just the one I always wanted as a kid. However, for the characters in the movie The Love Bug (as well as the plethora of sequels), a leisurely afternoon drive in the anthropomorphic bug quickly transforms into a hair-raising adventure. Innocent little Herbie, it turns out, has a rather scheming personality. Since the introduction of Herbie, we haven’t looked at Bugs in the same way.
The same goes for a very popular portrait. The serene brown eyes gazing from the canvas communicate endearing love as does the faint smile illuminating the olive-skinned face. Long brown hair drapes over the shoulders of a white robe. It’s Jesus, the Son of God. At least that’s how some artist envisioned Him.
The portrait is wildly misleading. Besides the fact that we don’t have a clue what Jesus looked like, other than that He was a Jewish male, it turns out that He is not as docile as the picture portrays. Sure, children felt welcome in His presence as they clamored for His attention, but when we turn to Revelation 6, we come face to face with the other side of this man—the Jesus we never knew.
In the heavenly throne room, John had witnessed God holding a scroll, sealed with seven seals. The scroll contained the righteous judgments of God, and only the Lamb, Jesus Himself, was able to open it. As He did so, the disastrous judgments of God were unleashed. False peace, war, famine, martyrdom, and untold catastrophes followed one on the heels of another. People died by the millions and the earth’s topography was destroyed. And Jesus was behind it all. So much for sweet Jesus, the peaceful baby in the manger, and the one who forgave the adulterous woman. When it comes to sin, there’s another side to Jesus, and we better not forget it.
