The Passion of the Christ
By Paul Miller
How could one fail to comment on the media event
that has had everyone abuzz the past few weeks, the Ash Wednesday release of Met
Gibson's film The Passion of the Christ?
I
saw the film the first week it was out. I had been prepared for its graphic
depictions of Christ's sufferings by the massive publicity that preceded it. I
wasn't sure what to expect, only that it was hard hitting.
I
tried to examine the film on its own merits. It seemed to me that Gibson's
development of the characters in the film was somewhat stereotyped and shallow.
They came across as representatives of certain motives (cunning self-interest,
heroism) or emotions (rage, contempt, sorrow) than real three-dimensional people
with complex personalities. All in all, I thought it was not a great movie in
artistic terms. There was nothing subtle about it at all.
And
then, there was the violence. We had all been forewarned. And it certainly was
difficult to watch in places. I simply had to close my eyes.
It
took me a few days to come to terms with my own reaction to it and the
controversy that it had stirred up. Urbane critics in the secular media seemed
to be almost unanimous in their condemnation of the film "Brutal and
pornographic" was how one described it. There was a sense that the movie had no
point other than a mindless glorification of violence that broke all boundaries
of decency. Journalists who regularly review the most scurrilous material on the
stage or the screen were suddenly warning parents to protect their children from
this dangerous work.
Why?
I wondered. Why is everyone so upset about this film? For some it was political.
The Passion of the Christ was simply one more tactic by the
religious right to take over society. Reviewers commented on Gibson's
Catholicism, noting that he was a "conservative" Catholic who disapproved of
the reforms of Vatican II. Doesn't that say it all about the man's motives?
But
after a few days of sorting it out in my own mind, I realized what was
happening. Mel Gibson has confronted us afresh with the scandal of the cross. At
the heart of the Christian faith stands a deeply troubling truth - that the
incarnate Son of God not only died but underwent utter, complete and abject
humiliation. It's a message that Christians and pseudo-Christians have
attempted to downplay, sanitize and deny for 2000 years.
C. S. Lewis once remarked that the cross did not
become an adornment in Christian churches until the last people who could
remember what a real crucifixion looked like had died. The cross really was "an
emblem of suffering and shame" and people recoiled from it in horror. The very
notion of a crucified Messiah, let alone a crucified God, sickened and
revolted both Jews and Gentiles in the first century. "We preach Christ
crucified," wrote the Apostle Paul, "a stumbling block [skandalon] to
Jews and foolishness to Greeks" (1 Cor 1:23.) And yet, a scandal that stands at
the very heart of Christian faith. The question we must all answer is: Can you
see God hanging on that cross? Can you see in the cross the essence of divine
love and mercy?
The
Passion of the Christ is really an extended exegesis of Isaiah 53:5: "By
his stripes we are healed." And so we see Jesus covered in the lacerations of a
Roman scourging, blood pouring from him for our salvation. Gibson's film simply
expresses the truth which Christians know by faith: that this man on the cross
is more than an exemplar of courage and patient suffering. This man on the cross
took on himself voluntarily the full fury and weight of human cruelty, depravity
and sin, thereby making possible peace with God. Liberals rail against the
barbarity of atonement theology. But Gibson has simply portrayed by the means
with which he is familiar the awesome truth communicated through prophecy and
gospel: by his stripes we are healed.
What enrages the cultured despisers is not just
the depiction of violence. It's something much deeper and more primal than that.
It's the suggestion that our sin is so great, only the death of God could atone
for it. Our own good intentions and our own progressive moral values don't stand
a chance against sin. Only God could do what we cannot do.
I
don't know the inner workings of Mel Gibson's mind. I know that, like that other
muscle bound hero, Governor Schwartzenegger, he is an outsider amongst the
cultural establishment; but for very different reasons. Sure, he makes macho
action figures. But he is also happily married and the father of seven children.
And his religious faith - not the shallow ephemeral faith of the celebrity who
suddenly finds Jesus, but the faith of the ages - his religious faith is the
most important thing about him. Because he is conservative, media and culture
can only see the nefarious hand of repression and manipulation.
But
whatever we think of his movie, Christians should admire Mel Gibson for his
courage. We should also discern that our reactions to the movie will not be
based solely on its artistic merits but on where we stand in relation to Jesus
Christ. Is he the Son of God? Or is he a human teacher who somehow managed to
stumble unwittingly into a series of events that ended in his death as liberal
critics have been saying for 200 years?
Unless you
believe in your heart that it was God who went through the scourging and God who
was nailed to the Cross; and that God did it for you as well as for the
whole world, then The Passion of the Christ will be simply
pointless, mind-numbing, soul-searing violence. But if he is, as the Gospel of
Mark says, Jesus Messiah, the Son of God, then one can't help but stand amazed
at the incredible lengths God was willing to go in order to heal us and save us.
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