Walk into any church in Europe, or anywhere else for that matter, and what do you notice? Floors? Yes, there are floors. Ceilings? Yes, there are also ceilings. Often very high ceilings. Books? Yes, lots of books. Typically, one of them seems to be more important than all the others. But I’m talking about something else you may notice, that is if you’re paying hard enough attention. Given up yet? Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s that Christianity has a slight obsession with Jesus. You know, the racially ambiguous emaciated guy typically hanging from two mounted wooden beams. If this comes as news to you, take a moment, do a Google search and come back to this article. I’ll be right here…

So now that you are up to speed with what I’m talking about, you know that every one of these so-called “God centers” have at least two dozen statues and paintings of Jesus (very few of him not dead or dying). In some cases there are more, but always two dozen at least. Yet, even with all these homages to the Christian lord and savior, not one of them mention that Jesus was actually a Jew. Was someone going to tell everyone in here? I mean, I can’t be the one to turn over that stone.

Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to. It took everything in my power and all of my strength gained from three weeks of free meditation classes to fight my natural urge to approach praying strangers and whisper softly into their ear “You know, Jesus was a Jew?” while they fumbled a strand of beads in their hands. But I kept my composure and didn’t utter a sound. I’m very proud of my progress and how far I’ve come.

That doesn’t keep me from wondering though. Were my fellow visitors aware of this when they paid the 30 euro entrance fee? Did these people even think about the fact that Jesus probably celebrated Passover while they were snapping selfies in front of stained glass windows? I hope so. As I took a lift to the top of the cathedral for an aerial view of the city, I couldn’t help but wonder if the six other people with whom I shared this small shaft knew what I knew. I couldn’t be the one to tell them though. It’s not my style, not after how hard I’ve been working on myself.

Instead of flapping my gums about how, as a kid, Jesus likely lit the Menorah candles, I just took baller photos of me staring off in the distance coupled with the caption “TFW when you’re in God’s house and not telling everyone Jesus was a Jew.” Allow me to me clarify. I’m not telling anyone in the church about Jesus being Jewish, but you’re out of your mind if you believe I’m not going to broadcast this information to my social media network. I think the 37 people who follow me understand what I mean.