What Would Wax Jesus Do?

I would like to preface this post with the statement "I love Jesus!"  That being said, here is my tale of Wax Jesus.
A few months ago in my church atrium, I found a little business card someone had left.  The card advertised a life-size wax interpretation of Leonardo Da Vinci's painting, the Lord's Supper.  I did some research on it and found out it is at the Christian Arts Museum, pretty close to church, but only open during business hours.  I was intrigued, but didn't feel this was worthy of making Adam miss work.  Nor did I want to take the kids in case it was slightly too realistic and unsettling.  Instead, I took my pal, Rev. Jason Valendy to see Wax Jesus.  Jason is in the process of moving churches, so I wanted to make sure to pin him down before he moved away. 

Lucky for us, a docent was on the scene who told us all about the sculpture. Apparently in the 1950s there was a very rich family in Fort Worth.  Somehow they had opportunity to view a life-size wax sculpture of Leonardo Da Vinci's painting, The Last Supper, and they were so moved by it that they took money to commission an identical setup here.  A mother and daughter team from a small town in Germany crafted each figure with wax, paper maiche, and REAL HUMAN HAIR!  The docent made note of the authenticity of the hair several times.

Wax Jesus.  His hair has faded over time, but others' haven't.

Oh yeah, that's me, right in front of Wax Jesus himself.

 It was made in 1954 and was on display at a local religious television station for a number of years.  Then they put it in storage for around 20 years and have recently brought it back out.  Apparently each body part was crafted individually and was stored as such.  I don't know the details of who kept this sculpture or where, but the docent told us there were cardboard boxes filled with hands, others with feet, and others with heads.  A skilled wax artist was hired from the Palace of Wax in Grand Prairie.  The artist was able to match up the hands, feet, and heads to recreate the sculptures to their initial splendor.  The hair, being REAL HUMAN HAIR, must be dry-cleaned once a year with a powder shampoo, similar to ones used in nursing homes.
In my personal life, I see Jesus and God in a number of places.  Walking down the street to Claire's school, I thank God for birds, trees, and various other parts of nature.  Offering hugs to friends is another time when I feel God's presence.  To me, anywhere where I am a witness to love, I am also a witness to God.  That being said, looking at Wax Jesus did not make me feel closer to him.  It just made me feel creeped out.
I don't mean to judge those who see Wax Jesus as a gateway to a stronger faith life.  More power to them, I say.  I was fascinated by the stories the docent told us of mysteries surrounding the sculptures, like the reason Jesus' hair has faded over time but the other sculptures' hair is the same color.  And the time that no lights would work except for the one above Judas.  But personally, seeing Wax Jesus satisfied some sense of morbid curiosity in me, not my faith.

I don't know which disciple this is supposed to be (I think Peter), but his eyes really gave me the willies.

Judas is in the center of this picture, and we're supposed to notice his hands raised in frustration and the salt and pepper toppled over by him.