Sunday Morning 9.20
What if Jesus and Mary Magdalene were seen walking through the streets of Lund on an early Sunday morning? He was barefoot, robed in simplicity. She was radiant in red, confident and self-contained. A fleeting glance between them hints at a love beyond time and space—a moment of divine recognition captured “In Passing.” But behind this imagined encounter lies a more profound story: one of suppressed truths, rewritten histories, and the enduring, thought-provoking power of myth.

For centuries, their appearances have been filtered through cultural ideals. Golden hair and fair skin are symbols not of historical reality but of iconographic tradition stretching from ancient Egypt to Renaissance Europe. What did they really look like? And what does their true likeness tell us about power, faith, and the enduring power of love, a beacon of hope that persists in the face of control?

This essay explores what Jesus and Mary might have looked like, why we have imagined them otherwise, and what that says about us. Please read on to learn more.

"In the Steps of Jesus and Mary Magdalene

He walked barefoot through the morning hush,
dust on his heels, silence in his breath.
Not seeking glory, nor fleeing death—
Just moving through time’s teeming lush.

She followed not behind but side by side,
in crimson grace, with a steady pace,
her gaze a mirror, her steps a trace
of truths, the church has long denied.

They met not as lovers newly bound,
but as souls once torn and now made whole—
a glance, a thread, a silent toll
where hearts remember what they found.

The stones beneath them held their names,
though none had carved them deep in stone.
History tried to claim the throne,
but love survives what man reclaims.

His robe was plain; her dress was flame,
they walked through cities unaware.
Yet every step stirred ancient air—
reminding us of whence we came.

So walk they still, through time and doubt,
through questions buried deep in creed,
not needing temples, laws, or lead—
just one true step to turn about.

In morning light or urban street,
where silence listens, echoes swell—
you’ll find their footprints, faint but well,
in every soul they chance to meet.“
Malmö, March 2025

In Passing – A Love Beyond Time and Space

The image is iconic: a barefoot man clad in the simple garments of eternity and a woman in red. Elegance and simplicity converge as they head toward high mass. A fleeting glance filled with love and understanding encapsulates a universe of history in a single moment.

So much for “In Passing.” This was never merely a brief encounter. It was eternal love manifesting in our world—step by step, glance by glance—a love shared by all.

A transient meeting between two realms—one eternal, the other ours. She strides confidently in a vivid red, form-fitting dress while he walks barefoot in a simple robe. Their eyes lock for a fleeting second. The image could easily be titled “In Passing,” but the remainder is left for the viewer’s interpretation. But is that the whole story?

No!

Who is the man walking barefoot on the cool morning cobblestones, accompanied by the elegant woman at his side? Early Sunday mornings in May are hardly prime time for roaming the city, especially not in a dress that exudes late-night glamour. Perhaps she’s returning home from a party—Lund is replete with such nights leading into Sunday. But what about the man? His attire remains even more perplexing: a toga draped over a youthful frame. May may be warm this year, but Pentecost mornings are brisk, and a nearby puddle hints at rain during the night. A morning swim? Highly unlikely. The nearest beach is over ten kilometres from Klostergatan. This is not a man heading for a swim—he seems to belong to an entirely different narrative that transcends time and space.

He walks with purpose, as though he knows the city. And perhaps he does. The man he resembles—with long, dark blond hair, a robe, and bare feet—is Jesus Christ. And he has, in a sense, returned to Lund.

Christ in Lund – A Familiar Return
The first known church in Skåne was established in Lund in the 990s. The apostle Ansgar passed through on his journey north to Birka, and according to tradition, Jesus has always followed in the footsteps of his disciples. Before long, eleven stave churches emerged in the city, a testament to the early spread of Christianity. By the Middle Ages, there were twenty-two churches and four monasteries, indicating the city's strong religious influence. Following the Reformation in the 1500s, all but two were demolished: Lund Cathedral and the Monastery Church. Today, depending on how one delineates the city’s boundaries, only a handful remain in the diocese—around seventeen, more or less.

Jesus has rested in every shadow and observed every stone. The man on Klostergatan is no tourist. He pays no attention to the shop windows. He knows precisely where he is and why.

So, if we accept that this man is Jesus, who is the woman?

The Woman in Red – An Echo from Eternity
She could be Marilyn Monroe—they do share a resemblance. She was recently spotted in Malmö, drawn there by other Time Travellers. But more likely, the woman in red is someone far older, someone who lived in the same era as Jesus himself: Mary Magdalene.

This couple does not appear as lovers newly smitten. They seem like old lovers—secure in one another’s presence, silent before the world but eloquent in their existence. They need not hold hands to prove that ancient love does not tarnish. It radiates in their glow. She wore the dress for herself—not for him—and knew, as women always do, that true style is confidence. Their love, timeless and enduring, testifies to the power of romance.

Mary Magdalene – the Overlooked Revolutionary
Mary Magdalene—the Overlooked Revolutionary—Jesus Christ’s relationship with her was complex and powerful. She was likely the most significant person in his life—his apostle, advisor, confidante, beloved, and perhaps even his wife. The Catholic Church has done all it can to obscure this truth, but it has not succeeded. Too many testimonies are too strong, not least the words of the apostles in our Bible. The Church has not dared to erase them. Mary's role was vital and pivotal in shaping the narrative of Jesus's life.

Mary was at his cross and present at his death. According to the gospels, she was the first person to whom he revealed himself after the resurrection—not Peter or John, but Mary.

Of course, she was there when he departed from Earth to ascend to his star—Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. In Egypt, Sirius was associated with eternal life. Several ancient civilisations built their calendars around its rising. Science fiction depicts it as the home of the highest beings. In my story—and several others—it is also the eternal home of Jesus and Mary.

The Church’s Distortion – Power over Love
The Church’s issue has never been Jesus. It has always been with whom they permit him to love. A woman? An equal? A partner? Such notions do not align with the patriarchal order, so she had to be erased. The Catholic vow of celibacy is no coincidence, but it’s problematic. It always has been—and is frequently circumvented. Many popes have had families and offspring, both official and very unofficial.

The Church has done its utmost to diminish and humiliate Mary Magdalene, reducing her from apostle to prostitute. Her gospel—discovered in the Egyptian desert, dated to the second century—is dismissed. The Gnostics, the earliest Christians who recognised the divine within rather than in external dogma, were declared heretics. When one reads their texts—available online—the Christian message becomes more straightforward and more comprehensible, yet the relationship between the dominant churches and the Gnostics remains explosive. This conflict has persisted for nearly two millennia and continues unabated. No reconciliation is in sight.

The Cathars, spiritual cousins of the Gnostics, were massacred by papal armies in southern France during the 13th century. Women and children were burnt in churches. It was the only crusade carried out within Europe. Why? Because they refused to accept the Council of Nicaea’s (325 AD) definition of Jesus as God’s biological son, born of a woman claimed to be a virgin—despite already having children, Jesus’ siblings. After all, she was married to Joseph, the carpenter, and at that time, women bore children quickly—there was no contraception. To the Cathars, Jesus was “the ultimate human,” the perfect one—but not a god, rather one who, after death, was taken up into heaven to sit at God’s right hand as the foremost among men.

Judas – Betrayer or Confidant?
The recovered Gospel of Judas tells a different story. In it, the betrayal transforms into an “act of loyalty”—an agreement between Jesus and Judas to make the sacrifice visible to ensure the movement, which had begun to falter, would receive eternal fuel.

Jesus sacrificed himself not to appease God’s wrath but to awaken human insight. Pontius Pilate, Herod, and the Roman Empire played their parts. But Jesus died as a “revolutionary.” A kind of socialist at heart, yet without violence, he preached like the Buddha—with gentleness, patience, and truth.

The Lost Radicalism
Today, Christ’s message has been distorted. The churches bear his name but not always his spirit. That is why he returns to Lund—barefoot, simple, facing the woman he loves—even in her earthly form. They need not speak.

Their moment is eternal; a picture speaks more than a thousand sermons.

But did Christ look like that—blond with curly hair? And Mary, too?
Probably not. But I shall return to that in a moment and explain why. First, we must remember that Time-travellers—those who travel through time—choose their form when visiting Earth. They typically return in their prime, somewhere around forty years old—still youthful on the outside but possessing a depth only eternity can bestow.

Nothing prevents them from selecting their hair colour or appearance based on time, place, purpose, or personal preference. A Time-traveller is not a body but a soul, and the soul resides in eternity. It does not require physical form unless it is so wished. That is why we leave the body behind when we die. Age, illness, scars, and the body’s sufferings remain here. The soul’s light remains untouched.

So why the blond hair? Perhaps because it is beautiful, possibly to blend in, but also because it has long been perceived as noble, even divine. Early in ancient Egypt, golden hair was attributed to the highest gods. Among the Greeks and Romans, it was the same—the most significant gods and heroes were often blond, even though most of the population had dark hair, dark skin, and dark eyes.

Golden Hair as a Sign of Divinity
It is not as strange as it may seem that Christ and Mary Magdalene are often depicted with golden hair. This is because the symbolism of golden hair as a hallmark of the divine, the sacred, and the chosen has transcended cultures and periods for thousands of years. It is not about genetics but about a shared cultural understanding: the colour of the sun, the colour of light, the colour of the gods.

Egyptian Mythology
Most Egyptians had dark hair, and gods were typically depicted with black or blue-black wigs—but significant exceptions exist. Ra, the sun god, was often shown radiating golden light, and his body was imagined as glowing. Horus, the sky god, could also be seen as golden in his higher form—especially when merged with the sun as Horus-Ra.

The clearest example of golden beauty among Egyptians is Tutankhamun’s death mask, whose golden surface symbolised wealth and divinity. Skin, hair, and body merged into gold, transitioning from human to god. Gold was indestructible—just like the essence of the gods. Who knows if this influenced our image of holy beings with golden features?

Babylonian Mythology
The Babylonian gods were not depicted as vividly as the Greeks, but Shamash, the god of the sun and justice, had a body that radiated light, and his hair and beard were sometimes described as shining. The symbolism remains consistent: light surrounding the divine body, perceived by humans as gold, sun, or fire.

Greek Mythology
Here, it becomes clear. Greek gods—especially the young, influential, and beautiful—were often depicted as blond or golden-haired. Most notably:

Apollo, the god of light, music, poetry, and truth, is described in many classical texts and sculptures as fair-haired—that is, golden or light-curled.
Aphrodite, the goddess of love born from sea foam, is often portrayed in later poetry as blonde—and receives her iconic appearance in Renaissance interpretations such as Botticelli’s Venus.
Athena, the goddess of wisdom, is sometimes shown with light hair, especially in Hellenistic art, despite her stern warrior gaze.
Zeus, the god of the sky and father of the gods, often sported a golden beard and hair described as "radiant."

Golden hair symbolised youth, strength, and divine lineage, which extended to demigods like Heracles (Hercules), Paris, and Achilles, who sometimes appear with blond features in poetry and art.

Roman Mythology
The Roman gods were essentially the same as the Greek ones, albeit with new names—but there was also a fascination with light hair.

Apollo (unchanged name) remained blonde in Roman culture.
Venus, the counterpart of Aphrodite, was often depicted as blonde in frescoes and mosaics.

In imperial culture, golden hair became an ideal. Wealthy Roman women dyed their hair blonde with saffron or ash or wore imported German wigs because that is how the goddesses appeared.

Thus, Jesus and Mary Magdalene's representation as blondes is not a Western invention but a mythical code running through thousands of years of iconography. To wear golden hair is to carry light, and to carry light is to belong to heaven.

But how did they look when they walked the earth? The man who was crucified beside the thieves at Golgotha—was he blond? And the woman at the cross?

What Did Jesus Look Like?

From the moment a Christian child enters Sunday school, the image of Jesus Christ takes shape: tall, slender, fair-skinned, wavy brown or blond hair, light eyes, and a gentle, almost ethereal expression. In North America, this figure is nearly iconic—but deeply misleading. A man with such features would have stood out conspicuously among the people of Galilee two thousand years ago. You would expect the authors of the Bible to mention this if it were true. Yet, in the Gospel of Matthew, it is stated that Judas had to point Jesus out to the soldiers in Gethsemane—they could not distinguish him from the disciples.

Nowhere in the Bible is Jesus’s appearance described. No contemporary depictions have been found, and no remains exist for genetic analysis. This leaves interpretation open to artistic imagination and cultural context. Carlos F. Cardoza-Orlandi, professor of world Christianity in Atlanta, points out that while Western images of Jesus dominate, he is portrayed in other parts of the world as Black, Arab, or Latin American. This underscores the powerful influence of cultural context on our perception of historical figures.

So, what can we know? An unexpected source of insight has emerged at the intersection of archaeology and forensic science: forensic anthropology. British scientists, aided by Israeli archaeologists, have tackled the question and produced what is claimed to be the most scientifically grounded reconstruction of the most famous face in history. This rigorous scientific approach provides a credible basis for understanding Jesus's likely appearance.

Studies of skeletons from contemporary Jewish men and comparisons with today’s Iraqi Jews suggest that Jesus likely had olive-toned skin, brown eyes, and dark, almost black hair—a striking contrast to the Western blonde Messiah.

Richard Neave, a medical artist at the University of Manchester, has recreated historical faces, including those of King Midas and King Philip II of Macedonia. He approached the task with great precision. While hair and eye colour cannot be determined from the skull’s shape, contemporary murals and texts offered guidance: dark eyes, a beard, and—contrary to Renaissance portrayals—short, curly hair in line with Jewish custom.

Some regard the Shroud of Turin as a stumbling block, as it depicts a man with long hair and a beard. The Shroud of Turin is a linen cloth that some believe to be the burial shroud of Jesus, bearing the image of a man with long hair and a beard. However, Paul—who, according to tradition, saw Jesus—wrote in First Corinthians that long hair is a disgrace for a man. Would he have made such a statement if Jesus had worn his hair long?

Regarding physique, archaeology shows that the average Semitic male during Jesus’s time was around 155 cm (5 feet 1 inch) tall and weighed about 50 kg (110 lbs). As a craftsman who worked outdoors, Jesus was likely muscular and weathered—not the pale, ethereal figure often seen in church windows.

To many believers, this dark-haired, brown-eyed, and robust Jesus may feel unfamiliar—but Charles D. Hackett, a theologian in Atlanta, views it as a reminder of the faith’s universal roots. The traditionally Western image of Jesus is an appropriation reflecting cultural ideals rather than historical truth. This highlights the influence of cultural context on the representation of Jesus, as different cultures have depicted him in ways that align with their societal norms and values.

Neave emphasises that his depiction of Jesus is a reconstruction of a contemporary Galilean man—not an exact portrait. Alison Galloway, professor of anthropology at the University of California, reminds us that such reconstructions partly depend on artistic interpretation: the nose's angle, the mouth's shape, and the folds around the eyes all influence the final result.

Yet, even with this caution, one conclusion remains: Neave’s version is likely much closer to the truth than the idealised images of tradition. A Jesus with olive skin, short hair, and a muscular build—perhaps not the Jesus taught in Sunday school, but likely closer to the man who once walked the hills of Galilee.

In today’s multicultural Skåne, they would blend in perfectly. Blonde hair is in the minority here and, according to experts, endangered in the long term. Therefore, whether future generations want to see their gods as blonde, dark-haired, or bald remains to be seen; hopefully, humanity will recognise that goodness isn’t measured by hair colour or any other outward trait.

Trump is blonde, while Putin is grey-haired—so clearly, evil doesn’t concern itself with hair colour.