OK. I saw the movie. As I went into the theater late
Thursday afternoon, I admit I felt a bit strange. After all I
had read and heard - newspaper and magazine articles, advance
reviews, commentary from religious leaders, both Christian and
Jewish, a lengthy interview with Mel Gibson, the film maker - I
felt a bit anxious as I made my way into the half-lit room.
I am not a fan of cinematic violence, and I had heard that
this one was not merely violent, but could rightly be called the
first Christian splatter film. I understood Mel's point - that
what happened to Jesus that day was indeed bloody and awful - but
I was not sure how much I would be comfortable having it shoved
down my throat.
I relaxed some when, as I sat down, I heard a stage whisper
from right behind me asking, "What's a Presbyterian doing here?"
The nice thing about life in a small town - everybody knows
everybody. It was Janet Templeton, a Methodist, and Mimi
Levinson, who is Jewish, who said she wanted to see this
controversial film with a Christian friend. After all the
comments about the anti-semitic bent of this movie, I told Mimi
that I would be most interested in getting her take on it after
it was over. No question that Passion plays through the
centuries have indeed fanned the flames of religious hatred with
people getting so worked up that they would leave the production
and go find a Jewish village to burn down. There IS history of
danger here.
The room went dark, the audio came up, the obligatory half-dozen previews of coming attractions, then finally, "The Passion
of the Christ." It starts off in a deep blue light that
envelopes the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus is wrestling with the
prospect of what would soon come to pass. An androgynous
character meant to represent the devil is there with him to
dissuade him from the task at hand, but to no avail.
A side note here. The gospel accounts make no mention of an
appearance by any devil in the garden, but Mel Gibson had an
extra-biblical source for this material, the 200-year-old
writings of an Augustinian nun, Sister Anne Catherine Emmerich,
"The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ." Her book is
said to have been received in miraculous visions while she was an
invalid; a friend wrote the chapters down in narrative form, as
she dictated them. Many details from the current film, including
the portrayal of the Jewish leaders in a particularly dastardly
light, come from this book.
Within moments, the violence begins. Judas leads the Temple
police to Jesus in the garden. A fight breaks out. The blood-letting begins. And for the next two hours, it hardly lets up.
It was as gory as advertised. I doubt that, in the history of
legitimate film-making, there has ever been a single character
who spilled so much blood, so violently, in such vivid color.
This is NOT a film for kids.
In a way, it is a very Roman Catholic film, which makes
sense, since Mel Gibson is a Roman Catholic even if he happens to
belong to a sectarian movement of folks who have broken away from
mother church, seeing it as being too accommodating of
contemporary culture. Particular reflection on the suffering of
Christ has been a mark of Catholic piety since the Middle Ages.
There is an interesting piece in this week's Time Magazine about
it:
It was starting in the 1300's that the Passion truly
bloomed. Scholars located details of Jesus' suffering
in allegedly prophetic verses in the Old Testament.
Mystics built devotions around his scourging after a
Cardinal returned from the Holy Land bearing the pillar
to which he said Christ had been chained. Flagellant
lay groups clogged the streets, seeking bloody
identification with the flayed Christ. So dominant
grew the Passion, writes Catholic historian Gerard
Sloyan, that believers felt "meditation on [it] alone
could achieve unity with Christ and yield some share in
the work of redemption he accomplished." It came to
overshadow not just "the Incarnation, but even the
Resurrection."(1)
In his interviews, Mel says that precisely that kind of
reflection has helped him to deal with some of his most difficult
times. The theology behind it is, "No matter how much I am
suffering, Jesus suffered more." Now, Gibson and his
screenwriter, Benedict Fitzgerald, have put on film their belief
that the Passion is far and away the most important part of
Christ's story, and that is why they focused on these last twelve
hours of Jesus' life to the exclusion of most everything else.
A great deal of time is devoted to Jesus' scourging. What
is conveyed in three sentences in the gospels takes almost ten
minutes on screen. It is horrific torture, and even though it is
not presented as such, you could say it was nothing less than a
miracle that Jesus could survive it, much less get up and walk to
Calvary, for awhile even carrying a heavy cross. The viciousness
of the beating was so vile and so extended that it began to lose
its impact on me - enough already; I got the message.
An essay in the New York Times yesterday(2)
reported on an
interview with Mr. Fitzgerald and his response to a question on
why they had made the film so violent. He answered that in an
age of great violence, you had to use violence to make your
point. He then related a story: A man buys a mule from another
man, who tells him that the mule will do anything if he is
treated with loving kindness. So the man gives the mule the best
feed, then some sugar, but he still won't work. So he brings it
back to the seller, saying he's been duped. The seller hits the
mule on the head with a two-by-four. The buyer says, "But you
said he needed to be treated with loving kindness." The seller
says, "Yes, but you have to get his attention first."
OK. Point taken. But, to let the essayist continue, "My
problem with "The Passion of the Christ" is that I felt as if I
were being continually hit over the head with a two-by-four, but
I never tasted the sugar and I wasn't even given my portion of
healthy feed." For myself, I would contend there comes a point
of overkill and violence simply for the sake of violence. I mean
there is no reason for the crucifixion scene to include a crow
plucking the eyes out of one those who was crucified along side
Jesus. Enough already.
As I mentioned, this film is very much a reflection of
Catholic piety. One of my good friends in the Homiletical Feast,
Carlos Wilton from Point Pleasant, NJ, wrote yesterday after
seeing the movie;
Empathizing with Christ's sufferings is clearly Mel's
goal -- and for that reason, this is a very, very
Catholic film. It's really a cinematic Stations of the
Cross...I've been to a number of those services over
the years: the slow, deliberate pace and episodic
organization are very much what "The Passion of the
Christ" is all about.
There's also a not-so-subtle emphasis on holy-relic
spirituality: Veronica's veil, the two Marys wiping up
the blood from the scourging, the lingering closeups on
hardware connected with the cross -- even the
literally-portrayed fountain of blood at the end, that
spatters Mary, John and one of the more sympathetic-seeming Roman soldiers as they stand at the foot of the
cross...Which makes it all the more amazing to me that
the Southern Baptist crowd is promoting this film so
energetically. Those folks wouldn't dream of walking
through a Stations of the Cross service at a Catholic
church -- but crafty ol' Mel has brought the Stations
to them, using the medium of film. He's probably
laughing all the way to the confessional.
Hmm. No question, it is a powerful film. As the house
lights came up, I just sat...letting the experience sink in just
a bit more. I turned around to Janet and Mimi. They were just
sitting too. We said we would talk later.
Anti-semitic? No. No more than the gospels themselves are.
To hate all Jews for the actions and policies of their leaders is
the same as hating all Americans for the current administration's
actions and policies around the world. A stretch. But, as we
know, some people do stretch. Sad.
My biggest concern going in is the one with which I came
out. There was no context for this horrific suffering. What was
Jesus all about? What did his life and ministry entail? What
got him so hated by the religious establishment? Why would his
suffering be any more redemptive than the suffering of millions
of others, both in his day and our own? For the rest of the
story, I guess you will just have to read the book.
Speaking of the book, I am intrigued that our lectionary
text speaks in an interesting way to our problem. It is the
story of Jesus' temptations in the desert and is read every year
on the first Sunday in Lent. This is how we begin our faith
pilgrimage toward Holy Week and Easter.
Number one: Jesus, you are incredibly powerful; use that
power to meet your own needs. If you do not take care of
yourself, you will not be able to take care of anyone else. On
top of that, if word gets around that you turn stones into bread,
think how many folks would follow you. Everyone can use a little
extra bread. Who could have blamed Jesus for doing something
like that?
Number two: unchallenged political power to right all the
wrongs...all the kingdoms of the world. How incredibly simple,
Jesus: you can ORDER folks to listen. You can ORDER justice and
an end to all oppression. What a wonderful opportunity! All it
will take is a tiny compromise, an ever-so-slight division in
your loyalties. You do not have to stop worshiping the God of
heaven, just spread that worship around a bit. Jesus, this is
the offer you cannot refuse. Who could have blamed him for
accepting?
Number three: equally enticing. Let folks know beyond the
shadow of a doubt that YOU ARE THE MESSIAH, the Chosen One of
God. What a spectacular stunt to leap from the Pinnacle of the
Temple, drop the 450 feet straight down into the Kidron Valley,
and land unharmed. God's angels will protect you. People will
SURELY listen to your message when they hear what you have done.
Would anyone legitimately reproach Jesus for deciding to take
that course?
The three temptations of Christ. No doubt there were more.
There are certainly more for us. The title of this sermon is
"The Most Seductive Temptation of All," and if you have been
waiting for me to tell you what it is for you, I cannot. Only
you know that answer. But for our society, I am coming to
believe that it is the same temptation that Mel Gibson fell to in
the making of his movie - the constant temptation to focus too
narrowly, to see trees rather than the forest, with the result
that we end up too often majoring in minors while what is truly
important is neglected or downright ignored.
Look at the evidence. Can you explain to me the incredible
amount of ink and air that was expended over the half-second view
of Janet Jackson's partially-exposed breast on television? On
and on people thundered about this - we are all DOOMED.
Gracious! To be honest, if this is what gets our attention, we
are nation with entirely too much time on its hands. Our
politicians are apoplectic that loving, committed people in a
lifetime relationship who happen to be of the same sex want to
get married. A piece of paper. It will not change anything they
do, simply make plain and public the commitment that already
exists. Horrors! What about the sanctity of marriage? Right.
What about it? It is OK for Brittany Spears to pop off to Vegas
with a buddy and get married for a few hours, then bag it, but
this other is not? Would not our politicians be better serving
us by concentrating on getting our kids out of Iraq alive or
encouraging employment growth to replace the two-million American
jobs that have disappeared? How about business? Is the only
thing worth considering the bottom line and shareholder value?
Or does any consideration beyond what the law demands go to loyal
and dedicated workers who keep things going? Are there ways to
do both? What is the big picture here?
Temptation. By the way, did you note in the lesson the way
Jesus avoided giving in? Scripture. After each of the
temptations was offered, he quoted scripture. Is that the answer
to overcoming temptation? Know all the scripture you can? It
would have helped Mel Gibson, and it certainly would not hurt
you, but... Unfortunately, a huge red flag is raised at the end
of the lesson. Did you hear it? Verse 13: "When the devil had
finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time."
In other words, this struggle with temptation, whatever it might
be for you and me, is ongoing...for Jesus, and most certainly for
us. Isn't THAT good news?
No. Of course not. But there IS good news here. As we
begin our Lenten pilgrimage, this unique period during which we
are called to self-examination, we can note that the temptations
we encounter are not new. Indeed, they are common to us all.
Yes, there WILL be wilderness journeys - times when we experience
physical or emotional hunger, times when we are
frustrated at not being able to make a difference in our own life
or anyone else's, times when we are tired of being
ignored and wish someone would notice us - the same temptations that Jesus felt. The
message is BE CAREFUL ABOUT FOCUSING TOO NARROWLY ON A QUICK,
EASY ANSWER. It may be nothing short of evil.
Yes, there is evil in the world, and Mel Gibson surely
captured that in "The Passion of the Christ," and yes, we are
always in danger of being caught in its snare. But we know one
thing more, and this one thing is the most important of all: we
are not alone in our struggle. We know beyond a shadow of a
doubt that, "nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or
tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable - absolutely
NOTHING can get between us and God's love" in Christ Jesus our
Lord."(3) And that is good news indeed.
Amen!
1. David Van Biema, "Why It's So Bloody," TIME, 3/1/04, p. 66
2. Mary Gordon, "For One Catholic, 'Passion' Skews the Meaning of the Crucifixion," New
York Times, 2/28/04
3. Romans 8:38-39 in Eugene Peterson's paraphrase, The Message, (Colorado Springs:
NavPress, 1995)