I’m sure you’re familiar with the artwork. It is ubiquitous.
Originally created in 1942, it’s still featured on prints and Bibles. (Years ago, I had a special Warner Sallman illustrated Bible, featuring his other paintings within it).
And, of course, the artwork is on decorative plates.
My mother’s own plate was a hazy bedtime memory for me. “Christ Knocking at the Door” hung on one of my walls.
I remember looking at it, as I had a conversation with my mother, about “accepting Jesus into my heart.”
But not just that. She also shared with me the fun facts about “the age of accountability.”
Was she letting me know that I better behave myself, be accountable, already?
Was this a tactic to get me to be a “good girl?”
Or was she sincerely and soberly “leading me to the Lord?”
I was at that significant age of accountability.
From that point on, I associated Warner Sallman’s depiction of Our Messiah, with the daunting prospect of spiritual personal responsibility. It hit me hard, being five. Pressure.
I doubt I understood the detailed mechanics of Salvation, the Work of The Cross, atonement, what Him “dying for our sins” really entailed.
“Just accept Jesus into your heart, Honey.”
“Jesus loves you.”
(And you are old enough to sin, so you need Him, or else).
I accepted and believed in “Jesus” as that innocent, trusting child.
I was still in a spiritually hostile, abusive warzone. There was no Christian atmosphere of church going and Bible reading.
It felt more like, “Here, accept Jesus into your heart. You did that? Good! Now we can move on. Stay out of trouble. Don’t be a problem.”
Not exactly the Gospel Message of one’s dreams.
