Two Reviews of The Passion

I’ve devoted a remarkable amount of space to The Passion, and it’s time to bring some closure to that chapter by posting two brief reviews of the movie. Please read them both, and thanks to all of you who have read my reviews of other “Jesus movies” and sent along notes of encouragement.

Review #2: “For me, who Him to death pursued…”

One of the marks of the uniqueness of The Passion is the fact that so many people have blogged their personal reaction separate from their review of the film. There are a number of reasons for this, but the most important one for me is that this movie concerns the core beliefs of my life. Everything about me that I carry about in my life and will hold on to in my dying is conveyed in this film. Unlike any other movie I’ve ever seen, I am totally, personally involved with the story, and of course, with the main character. Many other Christians apparently have similar feelings.

For that reason, a personal reaction needs to be separated from a review. Bias isn’t the right word to describe what I mean. The word has to be something like “conviction.” I am convinced that the events pictured in The Passion are the defining events of all human history. No matter what happens anywhere, anytime that shapes our world, what happened in those 12 hours matters more. This isn’t an argument, or even an opinion like other opinions that I feel strongly about. This is a conviction. An anchor. A definition of truth for me, and for millions of others.

I am not a “crier” in movies. I can tear up at a sentimental scene, and I can get choked up as well. But for me to weep in a theater is unthinkable. Particularly when I have spent months blogging, reading and researching the film. I knew what was coming at every turn. Yet, I was deeply and emotionally moved by the film. Not so much by the cinema, as by the connections made with my own life and experience.

This is the Jesus to whom I’ve entrusted my life. This is the Jesus I’ve raised my children to believe in. It’s the Jesus I told my father to trust as he declined and died. It’s the Jesus I preach about and offer every week. I Peter says that we do not see him, yet we love him, and that is true. When Mel Gibson is able, through film, to connect me to this person for two hours, I am going to be emotional.

As I have blogged in this space and elsewhere, Jesus movies are a hobby of mine. Only in rare instances do those movies cause me to feel genuine emotion. When the shepherds kneel before the baby in Jesus of Nazareth. When Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” in The Gospel of John. But in this film I cried often.

Not at the violence. The beating of Jesus was a part of the movie I had researched extensively, and I believe Gibson exaggerated it beyond what we can know. (In fact, showing the soldiers going beyond their orders to beat/whip Jesus 80+ times was a flaw.) What moved me were two things:

I was deeply moved by the forgiveness Jesus showed to his tormenters. This wasn’t just a mumbled line, it was an intense embracing of the very meaning of grace. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Jesus repeated words of forgiveness and mercy for those killing him stands in start contrast to human nature on so many levels, from the way we treat one another in ordinary relationships, to the violence in the Madrid subways.

I was also deeply affected by the clear intention of Jesus to embrace this death as our salvation. From the beginning to the end of the film, and many times throughout, Gibson again and again gives us opportunity to see a Christ embracing the cross, and fully aware that by his death, he makes “all things new.” That Jesus endured the cross “for the joy set before him, despising the shame..,” was a deeply personal encounter with the love of God for the likes of me.

Charles Wesley said, “… Died He for me, who caused His pain–for me, who Him to death pursued?” In The Passion, I deeply felt the truth of those words.

I am 47 years old. Old enough to have done many things that I regret. Most of my sins are the stale sins of our American culture. I can easily forgive myself for them, and I do not struggle with the forgiveness of God. This is wrong, because all sin is rebellion against God’s goodness and holiness, and all sin is part of why Jesus suffered and died. But that is the truth.

Of course, there are many sins that I cannot overlook, and that I know are wrong. I have confessed them, and I believe God has forgiven me for Christ’s sake. I can preach that Christ forgives sinners, and I know the truth of what I am saying.

Yet, in those 47 years, there is one sin- one season of sin really- that has escaped any kind of forgiveness. It was premeditated through years of wrong thoughts and actions. It hurt me, and those I love. It was the sort of sin the Bible points out as being heinous and life-ruining. I once knew the mental gymnastics to believe I could excuse myself from it, but I am past that now. I know it for what it is: the very worst thing I have ever done. My lowest, most wretched human moment.

And I have never been able to walk out of a church and feel that this matter was done. It followed me and taunted me over months and years. I never felt that God had forgiven me, even if I said I believed it. Maybe because the repercussions of this sin continue even today. Maybe because my conscience is outraged on a delayed schedule. Maybe because Satan is an accuser. I don’t know, but I have never felt forgiven for the worst thing I’ve ever done.

Until last Tuesday. When the stripes that healed me were repeatedly in my eyes and ears. Till the blood that covered my sin was lying in pools for me to see. Until the body of Jesus, broken for me, was whipped and nailed and pulled apart before me. Until I saw Jesus enduring what I should endure, and then saying “It is accomplished.” I cried. And I left that theater like I was leaving the most sacred church in all Christendom. Forgiven.

The Passion is a strong and provocative piece of art. It is offensive and controversial. At this moment, I don’t know if I will ever see it again. It doesn’t matter. For a few moments, the art of Mel Gibson made the Gospel blessedly real to me. As a soldier knelt there, showered in blood and water, I thought “That is me. My sin. My wretched choice. His innocence. His blood. My forgiveness.”

What anyone else may have thought or experienced doesn’t matter as much to me as that moment. Why didn’t I find this same forgiveness in some sermon or book? I don’t know. Why am I so hard, that it takes this brutalizing film to bring home to me the simple message of substitution and atonement? I do not know.

My personal reaction to The Passion isn’t an attempt to say it is flawless or anointed or that you should see it. All I can say is that for a few moments, the artist allowed me into that place where Christ’s suffering, and my sin could meet. And I could leave forgiven.

(Here’s my previous review of the film. Not quite as personal 🙂

Two Reviews of The Passion

I’ve devoted a remarkable amount of space to The Passion, and it’s time to bring some closure to that chapter by posting two brief reviews of the movie. Please read them both, and thanks to all of you who have read my reviews of other “Jesus movies” and sent along notes of encouragement.

*Minor Spoilers*

Review #1: The Passion: Prayer, Cinema and The Haunting of the World

The Passion is a cinematic Eucharistic meditation that focuses on the last 12 hours of Jesus’ life. In that sense, it is an unusual film to review as cinema, as it doesn’t particularly play by the rules, and really isn’t looking to entertain. My son found The Passion boring in many places, and I can easily see why he thought so. Gibson’s view of events is almost microscopic at times, and where most movies spend considerable time on character development and action, The Passion passes by many things with the assumption of familiarity, in order to take long and unblinking looks at things we know were part of the story, but we rarely consider in any depth.

Jim Caviezel dominates the film, as he should, and brings a distinctive vision of Jesus to the screen, one that is a long needed healthy corrective. Though physically probably too tall for the role, Gibson wanted Caviezel’s charisma and presence to convey the manliness of Jesus in a film where the brave and willing endurance of evil would be the central focus. The flashback sequences build a semi-complete picture of Jesus, but I can think of many other flashbacks that could have aided in Gibson’s cause. In these days of three hour plus epics, another 40 minutes could have been well used to bring us the many precursors of the Passion that are present in the Gospel accounts from the very beginning.

As far as casting goes, Gibson hit solidly every time he came to the plate. Maia Morgenstern’s Mary probably does more for Protestant understanding of Catholic views of Mary than centuries of art and apologetics. Riveted on Jesus throughout his sufferings, Mary is intimately aware of what is happening. At key points, it is her eyes locked upon Jesus that gives him the strength to go on. Her devotion to him- and his sufferings- is the primary way the viewer experiences the movie. It is powerful, human and deeply spiritual.

Hristo Shopov’s rendering of a pragmatic and torn Pilate has been faulted by some as soft in comparison to the historical Pilate, but I was pleased to see that Gibson placed the historical reasons for Pilate’s reluctance to kill Jesus plainly in front of the audience. While the Jewish religious leaders have reasons to hate Jesus, the Romans do not, and Pilate has been twice warned by the Emperor to control the explosive situation in Judea. Gibson takes some artistic license in presenting Pilate’s wife (Claudia Gerini) as a secret follower of Jesus, but this creates an even more plausible influence on Pilate to show restraint.

Accusations of anti-Semitism, which sounded misplaced to me before viewing the film, now sound completely bizarre. I did not leave the theater with a thought of what any Jew did to Jesus. But if a Roman soldier had been in the parking lot, I can’t say what I might have said. The soldiers in The Passion are sadistic, cruel, beasts. Their brutal destruction of Jesus drags you into a desire for vengeance, only to be confronted by Jesus’ own repeated pleading words of forgiveness. It is an effective use of the director’s art, and by the time the film has taken Jesus all the way to the crucifixion, you are as exhausted of the cruelty of the soldiers as you are of the physical abuse of Jesus himself. All the more reason to be shocked again when a soldier is showered in the blood and water from Jesus side, and kneels in guilty submission.

I was especially impressed with the weaving of various themes of The Passion together. When John comes bursting into Mary’s home to announce the arrest of Jesus, she asks the first question of the Passover Seder: “Why is tonight different from all other nights?” It’s this sort of interweaving of Biblical themes that will make the movie enjoyable to those Christians who might be tempted to judge Gibson harshly for creative departures from the Bible.

But it is in the use of the Last Supper as the commentary on the crucifixion that Gibson is particularly brilliant. As flashback after flashback goes back to the night before, and the words of Jesus in instituting the Lord’s Supper are given a visually stunning meaning, the viewer is repeatedly compelled to see that these events are not random, but part of something universal in scope, yet highly personal in meaning. As one person said, “As my body shook, as the tears flowed, as certain as the ugliness of my sin, the horror of His suffering, there was the joy of His forgiveness, and the giddy dread of His presence. I didn’t want it to end. My only comfort is that I can do it all again. Next Lord’s Day: The Table of the Christ.”

The taunts of anti-Semitism were, as expected, pointless. The Religious leaders were reacting exactly as the Bible portrays them in all four Gospels, and in accordance with what we would expect at the time. Yes, they are angry. Yes, they are insistent on Jesus’ death. And everything we know about the Sadducees is in accord with this portrayal. Of course, it is a very Jewish- but not black- Simon of Cyrene who becomes a co-sufferer with Jesus, and apparently, a believer. There are Jewish leaders who protest the treatment of Jesus. But primarily, there is the constant awareness that it is a spiritual struggle, not a political one, that is carrying Jesus to his death.

If I were looking for anti-Semitism, I could try to find it in the presence of Satan among the religious leaders or in the destruction of the temple in an earthquake. But it’s simply not there. Satan is present throughout the movie, taunting Jesus and testing his resolve. The destruction of the temple says what it should say: Jesus has done something that all religions fail to do, as is apparent from not only the temple itself, but the blind ambition and arrogance of the religious leaders themselves.

I can criticize the movie for a number of Hollywood touches- particularly in the demonic special effects department- but this is a language today’s filmgoers understand, and it is put to good use without over use. The resurrection, while welcome, seemed too short. The movie should have explored the devastation of the disciples post-crucifixion. Good Friday is about the darkness that falls on the disciples after all is over and they are left with nothing.

I could also say that the film’s flashbacks were not as carefully written and executed as the central story. The sermon on the mount was poorly staged, and the invention of the modern kitchen table and chairs by Jesus was unlikely. Herod was pointless. Mary Magdalen was not the woman in John 8. But these are quibbles over details. The film was magnificent.

The Passion is Gibson’s visual prayer for our conversion. Offered in the context of the Eucharist, Gibson wants us to be Christ-haunted as we leave the theater. He wants the images of Jesus’ suffering to haunt us, but he really wants to haunt us with the love of Christ embracing the cross, forgiving his enemies, and finishing the work of forgiveness for all of us. It remains to be seen how the non-Christian world sees this movie. Perhaps it will be confusing, or perhaps it will spark healthy curiosity. But no one who sees The Passion will ever think about these events the same way again. Gibson’s prayer is compelling art, with a vision that burns itself into your consciousness, and will not leave you unaffected.

Next: My Personal Reaction to The Passion

Preaching Grace is Risky Business

Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said that if we didn’t get complaints that we’d gone too far and said too much, then we probably haven’t really preached the Gospel of grace. That’s been my experience. Almost every time that I preach a strong sermon on justification by grace through faith, by Christ and apart from the works of the law, I get complaints. I just thought I would say a few things about that.

1) Young people have a difficult time understanding grace. I think that young people are so used to living in a world of rules and grades, so used to competition and being told to be good/do right, that the Gospel is hard for them to understand. I’ve been around youth evangelism my whole life, and I believe about 98% of the “decisions” I’ve witnessed were brought about by messages that were legalistic and moralistic, not Gospel centered. These are kids who think about the Christian life as “living for God,” not as “Christ died for me and I will never deserve that.” They are like the workers in the Vineyard who are really hacked off that the owner paid those last minute workers the same wage.

2) Another reason young people struggle with the Gospel of grace is that they’ve been the primary focus of all the cultural warfare Christians talk about. It’s in their lives that all the issues of morality and cultural decline really come to the forefront. When you hear that sort of “do good/be good/don’t be like the world” message, the Gospel of God justifying sinners really sounds dangerous.

3) I think it’s provable again and again that what we are comfortable saying to an unbeliever, we aren’t comfortable saying to a Christian. The Gospel is for Christians, too. We love the story of the Prodigal son. Now, what about the day after the party? What if the son messed up again in a week? What if he doesn’t live the life of a grateful son? Or to be more realistic, what if he sometimes does and sometimes doesn’t? Does that change the Father? Does the older brother get to come back into the story and say “Aha!! I was right!” Christ died for the sins of Christians, and we need to hear that over and over again.

4) We really don’t believe grace can conform our lives to Christ more effectively than law. I mean we don’t. We think we need the law to keep us in line. Especially, we think we need the terrors of the law to frighten us into being good Christians. It’s the “law/grace/law” model. This kind of legalism just overruns Christianity. It usually comes in a less than recognizable form, saying we need “exhortation,” etc. because we have a tendency to drift back into sin. I’m reminding of Paul’s words to the Galatians: 3:1 O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. 2 Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? 3 Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh? 4 Did you suffer so many things in vain if indeed it was in vain? 5 Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith. 6 just as Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness? I’m not sure we get it yet.

5) Here’s one always sure to get a rise out of evangelicals. “Once you are justified by faith, you can do what you want. And if you want to do all the things you did before you knew Jesus, then you just don’t get it.” The idea that we can do what we want just gets everyone nervous. But what is the alternative? Being somehow forced to do what we don’t want to do? I sin because parts of me still want to sin. I obey Jesus because parts of me really want to do that. It’s a bummer. (Read Romans 7) I believe there is some hope the situation will change, but not until I’m dead! The prodigal came home and did what he wanted. So did the woman in John 8 who Jesus said he didn’t condemn. So did Peter when he denied Jesus and then repented.

6) How does grace change us? The Holy Spirit gives us a new heart, the mind of Christ, new affections. We are changed and the promises of sanctification and perseverance are true. But the law can’t PRODUCE anything worthwhile in my life as a Christian. It’s either there because Jesus is my treasure and I choose him over the world and the flesh, or it’s not worth being there at all. The law can really do a great job on the externals, but grace gives me Jesus and only cares about fruit that comes from the Holy Spirit. Sorry to all the preachers and Christians trying to control people. I suggest you give up.

Well, I’ve got more, but that ought to be enough to get you thinking. Justified by grace through faith apart from the works of the law. If you want it detailed out by someone who really understood these things, try J.C. Ryle’s little piece on Justification and Sanctification Detailed.

Stand by for the first non-Passion related blog entry in a couple of weeks.

Kathy Mattea in Concert. Brown Theater. Louisville, Ky. Friday, March 5, 2004.

When I told one of my co-workers I was going to see Kathy Mattea, he said, “Isn’t she a has been?” I said, “Probably, but then look at who’s considered currently popular. I prefer the has-beens.”

For those who missed country music in the 1980’s, Kathy Mattea had her moment in the sun. Winning two Grammys, two CMAs, A female vocalist of the year and a song of the year for “Sixteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses.” Mattea opened last night’s apparently sold out show at the restored Brown theater with that familiar country hit. From the looks of the audience, Mattea’s fans are mostly in their 40’s now, like her, and with the exception of a fan who asked Mattea to do “Independence Day,” a Martina Mcbride song, are devoted to her recordings without consideration for popularity or radio play. In other words, we are “has beens” too, and not worried about it. (BTW- former Louisville Coach Denny Crum was in the audience! A nice treat for me.)

With a career that dwindled during the 90’s, Mattea did the smart thing and quit her major label contract rather than endure endless reworkings and eventual rejection. Moving to minor league status on Narada Records, Mattea was free to do what she does best- pick awesome songs, regardless of genre, and turn them into her own. Last night’s show wandered through styles ranging from Celtic to the Stones to anti-war ballads and upbeat Gospel numbers. In all her music, Mattea shows a devotion to great acoustic style, and a respect for song-writers. Though the show was heavy on material from her new album, Roses, Mattea made it clear that her concerts are showcases for great songs and great musicians. She did not disappoint.

Country music is ridiculed by most of the young and old hipsters these days, but that is their loss, because Mattea demonstrated that what is called “country” today is really a mixture of American musical styles and sources, all interpreted through a primarily “country-influenced,” acoustic music style. Carried by superb musicians playing dozens of different instruments, Mattea’s strong alto voice made every song richly accessible to those who might not usually just “sit and listen” to more traditional “country” sounds. It’s grown up music; its deep and spiritual. Mattea isn’t afraid to do music that will never be heard on a country station, but it’s also obvious that the “acoustic/roots” movement is Mattea’s loyalty.

It was interesting to hear how Mattea brought her faith into the concert. In contrast to contemporary Christian artists who seem to think that real life can’t be particularly God-honoring, Mattea wove in expressions of her faith naturally into songs that told many different kinds of stories. It’s my guess that Mattea is Catholic, because (among other things) her faith is expressed in the sort of healthy balance that Catholic artists seem to come by naturally, and the Protestant CCM community can’t seem to find. From songs that were couched as prayers to the profound theology of “Mary, Did You Know?,” to the wry humor of “That’s All The Lumber You Sent,” to the outraged, “My Mind Is Not A Junkyard,” Mattea’s faith is unmistakeably there, offering to the audience a way of looking at everything from heartbreak to war through God-centered eyes. She may be an Oprah-ite underneath it all (she recently did a performance of “The Vagina Monologues”), but I was one Christian who felt blessed by her artistry and openness to ask us to relate to the God of Jesus.

Mattea is energetic, attractive and funny. She has a good time, and though she is clearly not a Republican, she didn’t preach politics. Many of her songs are upbeat sermons to self: You can make it, even though you’ve been through tough times. It would appear that in her blessed life, Mattea learned enough tough lessons to know we could all use a lift, a laugh and an encouraging word. She may be a hippie at heart, but somewhere along the way,she’s learned to be an entertainer, a story-teller and a wonderful balance between professionalism and spontaneity.

Kathy Mattea was great, and I hope we can enjoy her wonderful music again. She has a new fan.

(BTW- Mattea makes great Christmas music. Get both her Christmas record. The first, Good News, is one of the best Christmas recording I could recommend. We’ve loved it for years.)

Two Other “Jesus” Movies Worth Watching: Part Two

Jesus Christ Superstar was first released in 1969 as a recording. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice had done a Biblical musical about Joseph, but this was a daring contemporizing of the Gospel story, with little possibility of escaping the wrath of official Christendom. By 1971, it was in a controversial, and relatively short run in British theater. In America, JCS also stirred up enormous animosity and only a modest success. In 2000, the production was revived in London, and eventually, in America, where it currently enjoys excellent success in a fresh interpretation and touring production.

Why would I list JCS as a Jesus Movie worth watching? Everyone knows that JCS is inaccurate, distorted, purposely provocative and devoid of the majority of normal Christian interpretation of any part of the story of Jesus. I’ve been watching JCS for two decades, and especially after watching and seeing the new “Gale Edwards/London 2000” production, I am convinced that JCS is a great way for Christians who are numbed with their familiarity with Jesus to encounter some of the most important aspects of the Gospels.

I won’t try to describe what JCS gets wrong. It would take too long and too much space. Let’s note what it gets right.

Jesus was a political figure in a volatile time. Many of his followers and fans were politically minded and wanted Jesus to be king. JCS shows this in a way that is unmistakable. Jesus could never get away from this, no matter how spiritual his message.

The disciples were slow to understand and often confused by Jesus. His personal mission and everything they knew about the “kingdom” and the Messiah didn’t mix.

Jesus was a human being. He reacted with emotion. He wasn’t above us. He inspired affection and loyalty, but also great animosity and fear.

Much of what Jesus said made little sense to his followers at the time.

Jesus had all the problems of “superstardom.” Crowds, distorted publicity and women hanging around.

Jesus’ relations with women were scandalous, and looked, in his time, to be inappropriate. Talking with a woman in public. Allowing women access to you. Being supported by women. Allowing a woman to touch you. Being single so long. It would have all been shocking.

It’s entirely plausible that people like Mary Magdalene and Judas struggled with just how they felt about Jesus, and vacillated between intense faith and more human emotions like love and jealousy.

It’s highly possible that Judas’ betrayal was because of a sense that “this has to be done” or even personal jealousy.

Pilate is strangely compassionate to Jesus.

Jesus isn’t all about miracles.

Jesus did struggle mightily with his decision in the garden of Gethsemane. And it was his Father who wanted him on the cross.

The crowd was the deciding factor in Pilate’s choice. They were vicious.

The end was crushing. Final. A moment of complete defeat and despair.

I’ve found these aspects of the story to be effectively communicated in JCS. In many cases, the new setting kicks things up “another notch” to a level we can be affected by the story in a way similar to the first century.

For example, In Jesus’ time, his behavior with women was shocking. But the same actions today, aren’t shocking. In order to get the same impact, JCS takes us into areas of Jesus interactions with women that are edgy, but the point is made. Jesus was perceived as being way outside the norm.

Let me say a word about the film you should watch. It is the London 2000 production starring Glenn Carter and Jerome Pradon. This is another world from the terrible 1973 movie with Ted Neeley and the late Carl Anderson. (RIP) Director Gale Edwards has turned JCS into a play with incredible depth in the personal interplay between Jesus, Judas and Mary. Plus, it’s just fun to watch, with a lot of hat tips to Star Wars and other mythic cinema. The gritty, urban, new-fascist atmosphere and the guerilla fighter image of the disciples are great. This version connects.

Jerome Pradon, a fine British actor I’ve seen in Shakespearean work like Ian Holm’s King Lear, knocks the ball out of two parks as the best friend of Jesus, now a disillusioned, fearful and jealous betrayer. Glenn Carter is a bit bland as Jesus, but sings like an angel. His Gethsemane is powerful. Renee Castle as Mary is outstanding. Fred Johanssen as Pilate is powerful and intense. The music is great and the cast makes everything work.

As I said, the real star is the direction. What Edwards has the actors do when they aren’t singing makes the play. Trust me. It’s brilliant.

There are some weak points in this production. Ryk Mayall as Herod is terrible. The cleansing of the temple comes off as an attack on Las Vegas, which is bad because Jesus was the friend of sinners and the overturner of the tables of the religious crowd. (How did they miss this?) Rice and Webber’s errors remain, like Jesus telling the lepers to heal themselves and the disciples all being zealots. The Lord’s Supper is a mess, though the music is great. Overall, Jesus is just too much like the cool guy at your school. You never believe this guy could inspire anyone to do anything.

JCS is a significant play in that it launched- in popular culture- the radical revisions of Jesus that today have inspired more and more transformations in the artistic view of Jesus, and even has had some effect on the church. It is flawed, but brilliant. At times, it gives a powerful window into some of the dynamics and relationships that surrounded Jesus. Don’t look for the real Jesus in this play, but you already knew that.

Two Other “Jesus” Movies Worth Watching: Part One

Franco Zefirelli’s 1977 “Jesus of Nazareth” is a seven hour mini-series that covers the story of Jesus from birth to resurrection. It is easily the most ambitious “Jesus” project ever attempted. The movie uses a whole generation of great actors, including James Mason, Lawrence Olivier, Anne Bancroft, Ernest Borgnine, Ralph Richardson, James Earl Jones and Anthony Quinn. The screenplay was written by Anthony Burgess, and the script follows material in all of the Gospels, with a nice harmonizing of John and the Synoptics. Fictional characters are used effectively and sparingly, but the script isn’t afraid to go where the Bible doesn’t provide information.

One of my favorite things about Jesus of Nazareth is the creative placing of material in believable contexts. Mary Magdalen finds forgiveness at the feeding of the five thousand. Thomas is skeptical that Jesus can raise the daughter of his master, Jairus. Barabbas is a zealot who asks Jesus to lead a revolt, and instead hears Jesus’ words to “love your enemies.” Most effectively, the parable of the Prodigal Son is placed in a party at Matthew’s house, where a conflicted Peter finally decides to come to a party for prostitutes and tax collectors. In other words, rather than just “hang” passages out in space, Zefirelli creates a place in the story for these events to happen.

Robert Powell’s Jesus is alternatively accessible and charming, but also mysterious and intense. Some have found Powell to be somewhat “otherworldly,” but I believe he balances out the various opposites in the personality of Jesus in a way that is quite Biblical. Jesus could be the guy next door, and he could scare you with majesty and power. Powell lives and dies with believablity as the savior.

This movie shows exorcisms and miracles throughout the Galilean ministry, and also pauses for short doses of Jesus’ teachings. We get a good feel for how Jesus attracted crowds wherever he went, as Zefirelli used large numbers of extras to make real crowds. The relationship between Jesus and the disciples is front and center, with James Franciscus playing a first rate Simon Peter. Ample time is given to John the Baptist and the political undercurrents in Judaism. Christopher Plummer has great fun as a lustful, maniulated Herod Antipas.

An outstanding feature of this film is the major attention given to Judas. The story provides a full, and plausible, explanation of Judas’ action. Judas is a political dreamer who thinks that Jesus will be proclaimed King- if the Sanhedrin ever hears him up close. It is Judas who is betrayed by the authorities who have decided to kill Jesus all along. The fictional character of Zera makes the Sadduccees understandable.

I have used this movie as a teaching tool for almost a decade and it is very accessible and understandable. The birth section is wonderful and moving. The Passion is done tastefully, though modern audiences used to sophisticated make up and effects will be disappointed at the lack of gore. Surprisingly, even with 7 hours, much is left on the cutting room floor or was never filmed, and one of the few complaints I have about the movie is some sloppy editing. Also, at least one scene of overt adoration of Mary is bizarre, especially when Mary says “Who is his mother and brothers, etc.”, a line actually spoken by Jesus as a criticism of his mother in Mark 3. And she doesn’t age.

The soundtrack is a bit redundant. The production values are excellent. Some performances are stunning in their power. I think Ann Bancroft’s Mary Magdalen and Rod Steiger’s Pilate are particularly well played. Peter Ustinov as Herod the Great is beyond compliment.

The movie was written with an awareness of the issue of anti-Semitism, but the Jewish bad guys are very bad, and without their persistent stalking of Jesus, and their insistence that Pilate kill him, the death wouldn’t have happened. It is the religious leaders who double-cross Judas, and it is the religious leaders who overrule sympathetic council members to insist on Jesus death. Interestingly, the movie shows NO deliberation about sending Jesus to Pilate, while the Gospels tell us there were hours of debate on what to do after Jesus was condemned.

This movie will, I believe, survive the current interest in “The Passion”, as THE movie to present the whole story of Jesus. This is a film that is cinematically and artistically well done, and spiritually satisfying. It has aged very well, and now that it can be owned on DVD for about $25, needs to be in every Christian’s library.

Stephen Prothero on “The Passion” in Opinion Journal:

Mr. Gibson’s idiosyncratic take on this medieval “Man of Sorrows” is plainly a product of American culture. It draws on the Bible, medieval passion plays and Roman Catholic Mariology, to be sure, but also on the macho brutality of the action-adventure movie (blood, gore, repeat) and the supernatural horror of the Gothic tradition of Edgar Allan Poe and Stephen King. In fact, all the tropes of the last genre–underground dungeon, shackles and chains, sadistic torturers, innocent maiden, stone-heavy architecture and supernatural terror–are in this film in spades. So is the tradition of the muscular Redeemer, sent to save us not only from our sins but also (in the words of the baseball evangelist Billy Sunday) from “flabby-cheeked, brittle-boned, weak-kneed, thin-skinned, pliable, plastic, spineless, effeminate, sissified, three-carat Christianity.”

But don’t quit yet. This is extremely perceptive, and in all the evangelical, niche-market fury to accept The Passion as divinely inspired, we can be blind to the fact that the movie is an artistic product of a culture. American culture, Catholic culture, evangelical culture and Hollywood culture. That doesn’t destroy the movie. Or its good impact. Look at the next paragraph.

Still, “The Passion of the Christ” is above all else a rebuke to contemporary American culture. Like a Jewish leader in the film who spits in Jesus’ eye during trial before the Sanhedrin, Mr. Gibson spits here in the eye of America’s many and malleable Jesuses, insisting that Christianity’s founder be understood not as the good Guy next door but, as the Nicene Creed puts it, as “very God of very God.”

This, I think, is the great gift The Passion has to give. It is precisely the movie to influence a media influenced culture. It is, as someone said, “Sunday School for the Kill Bill generation.” More than a few American pastors will have to ask if they are preaching Christ, or some life management guru? Who knows? Maybe someone may discover why Paul said “I thank my God that I knew nothing among you except Christ Crucified.”

Richard is a Canadian Baptist pastor. I thought his thoughts were worth posting and sharing.

Why I (probably) Won’t Go See The Passion- by Richard Campeau

The controversial film The Passion of the Christ, directed by superstar Mel Gibson, will be released in theaters on Ash Wednesday. So much has been said and written already that one hesitates to comment further. Nevertheless I feel I should write down my reasons for deciding in advance to not go see the film. I want to do this because, as a pastor, many people come to me, and many more will come, either to ask me what I think or to enthusiastically state that The Passion is a harbinger of revival. Such people are shocked when they hear that I’m not planning on going to see the film. Some have rebuked me for such non-conformity to the evangelical party line. My attitude, they charge, betrays a blatant disregard for the work that God intends to do in the souls of many. This short essay is my attempt to explain myself. It is simply the expression of my own reasons for staying away from this film. It is not in any way meant to bind anyones conscience in this matter.

It’s not about antisemitism or Gibson’s Catholicism.

I should state at the outset that my reasons for not wanting to see The Passion have little or nothing to do with what has been the primary point of controversy concerning this movie – its alleged antisemitism. While it is certainly true that Passion Plays have often been linked to flare-ups of antisemitism and violence against Jews it is not something that is intrinsic to the genre. This is particularly true in more modern versions of the Passion Play. In medieval times passion plays would often deliberately cast Jews as bloodthirsty Christ-killers. Modern passion plays, in my experience, are very careful to avoid such casting and to make the point that all are guilty, the Jews, the Romans and the audience. Despite all the negative press, Mel Gibson’s film appears to do this as well. It is an interesting and telling touch that the hands that are seen holding the spikes as they are hammered into Jesus hands are Gibson’s own hands. Even the director is guilty!

Furthermore I should state that my reluctance has nothing to do with any legalistic shunning of Hollywood and the movies. If any Christians conscience forbids them to go to the movies, they shouldn’t go. But this is certainly not my case. I enjoy cinema and an “R” rating (such as The Passion received) would not necessarily turn me away from a worthy film (though I would take it in consideration and I would want to know why it is so rated before I put my money down). Nor does my reason have to do with Mr. Gibson himself or his somewhat unusual religious persuasion (Note # 1) although I do think my fellow evangelicals could be more aware of Mr. Gibson’s views. He is certainly a strong and unapologetic believer in Christ and The Passion of the Christ is his labor of love. It is rather refreshing to hear faith in Christ promoted and defended by such a “high-ranking” Hollywood insider. I do wonder, however, how many evangelicals are aware of the details of Mr. Gibson’s faith, and particularly of his expressed belief that all non-Catholics (and he interprets “catholic” rather narrowly), including his godly protestant wife, are lost and headed for hell, even if they love and trust Jesus (Note # 2). Mr. Gibson, of course, is entitled to his views, and these in no way influence my decision to not see the film. But one can’t help but be amused at the thought of thousands of “seeker-sensitive” evangelicals flocking to see a film by a director whose vision of the faith is characterized by the Latin Mass, meatless Fridays, penance, and other such seeker-insensitive stuff.

So why won’t I go see The Passion of the Christ?

In the summer of 1980 I took a college course in cinema. I will freely admit that I thought it would provide easy credits. If one has to take a summer course it might as well be one in which much of the work consists in watching movies! It turned out, however, to be a somewhat traumatic experience. Week after week our class watched films like Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, which bluntly portrayed the violence and fallenness of the world. I vividly recall the effects such on-screen violence and despair had on me. It wasn’t good. For a day or two after each screening sadness and depression lurked. Going to class soon became a chore. This situation was perhaps made more difficult due to the fact that I had become a Christian just a couple of months before. The Beatitudes (Matthew 5) had become very important to me, like a mission statement for my life. But in the beatitudes, Jesus describes soft-hearted people (the poor in spirit; the meek; the merciful; etc.) and I found myself having to deal with images that would, if I allowed them, make me less sensitive and more hard-hearted than I felt I was called to be as a Christian. Perhaps my immature Christian faith led me to wrong conclusions about cinema, but ever since that summer I have preferred to stay away from movies that depict gratuitous violence.

Which brings me to The Passion.

Mel Gibson’s stated goal was to render the crucifixion of Christ as realistically as it can be rendered on film. This involves showing the violence of the crucifixion as graphically as possible and bearable. By all accounts he succeeded in this aim. Christian reviewer Steve Beard, in a favorable review, warns that “this is not a family-friendly Christian movie… The Passion is the most brutal movie you will probably ever see. People will be sobbing in the theaters or running out to get sick in the lobby.” He then adds that it “is the most sadistic and simultaneously holy thing I have seen.” (Note # 3)

This reminds me of a kind of preaching that I find particularly offensive. It is the kind of preaching that is usually brought out around Good Friday in which the preacher goes to great lengths in belaboring the details of the crucifixion, particularly the details concerning what was happening to Jesus physically. Such preaching rehearses the details of what happens to the internal organs of a crucifixion victim, or the effects of lactic acid build-up in the muscles, or how water and mucus gather in the lungs of the crucified and begin to drown him. Such descriptions, I think, are the revivalist’s cheapest trick. And I hate it!

I hate it not because it isn’t true – I know enough about biology and anatomy to know that it is. I hate it because it’s voyeuristic. I hate it because its not true New Testament preaching of the cross. The New Testament itself leaves such details implicit rather than explicit. The apostles saw no need for such graphic displays of gore. The readers know that dying nailed to a piece of wood is awful. No more needs to be said but that “they crucified Him” (Luke 24:20) and that “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). Why should I want to see more than God saw fit to tell us about the most awful, scandalous event in the history of the cosmos? And what would seeing it do to my heart? Will seeing this really make me a better Christian (as has been claimed)? Is showing this to unbeliever really the key to bringing them to a knowledge of Christ? It might be good to remind ourselves that of all the Christians in the New Testament only a handful actually saw the events depicted in The Passion. Clearly the Holy Spirit doesn’t need people to have seen before they will believe. He didn’t then and he doesn’t now.

Frankly, I know all the truth I need to know about the cross from the gospels and the epistles. If I don’t want to be assaulted with violent words about the crucifixion why should I want to expose my fragile self to vivid pictures of my Savior’s suffering. I know what on-screen violence does to me. Its not good. And thats why I stay away from movies of cruel, gratuitous violence. For me this includes The Passion of the Christ.

Note # 1 – Mr. Gibson holds to traditionalist catholic beliefs which reject the changes of Vatican II.

Note # 2 – see Peter J. Boyer The Jesus War: Mel Gibson and The Passion, The New Yorker, September 15, 2003 On the web at http://www.wcnet.org/~bgcc/gibson.htm).

Note # 3 – Steve Beard, Brutal Passion, Good News Magazine, March/April 2004 on the web at http://www.goodnewsmag.org/magazine/2MarApr/ma04brutal_passion.htm

My Questions About “The Passion.”

I want to be really clear that I have not seen this movie. I will say I’ve devoted more than a year to learning about it, having written one of the first blog pieces on the film almost two years ago. I will be going to see the movie, and I am hoping to take my high school Bible students to it. I told my congregation that I hope they will go see it as well. So the questions I raise are distilled through a long process of considering the issues raised by this movie. (I should also say I have been using “Jesus of Nazareth” with students for a decade, and I also extensively use “Jesus Christ Superstar.” I predict I will be using “The Gospel of John” in the future with classes.)

I am primarily dialoging here with the current evangelical embracing of the film. To me, the film is art, and nothing more. Cinematic art. But to evangelicals, it is much more. It is taking on the contours of a sacrament. An encounter with Christ. A- yes, you guessed it- an anointed work of the Holy Spirit.

My Questions for evangelicals:

1. Can a film that does not establish “Who is Jesus?” properly communicate the significance of his sufferings? This is the entire method of the first Gospel, Mark, and it makes much sense to consider it in refernce to this film’s method.
2. Can the same film devote less than a minute to the resurrection and properly communicate the Gospel? The Gospels, and especially New Testament preaching, major on the resurrection appearances in order to complete the sufferings of Jesus and show us the truth about who Jesus is now, and what God has done through his suffering.
3. Are 15 minutes of flogging paired with less than a minute of resurrection appearances communicating what we believe the Bible communicates? Faithfulness to the scripture is what evangelicals claim commends this movie.
4. Are evangelicals prepared to consider that their own dearth of artistic competence is driving them to endorse this film?
5. In fact, are we as evangelicals ready to consider why it is that no evangelical is making this movie, and in my opinion, could ever make this movie except as a straight to video project financed by TBN and starring Kurt Cameron?
6. Are evangelicals prepared to consider that The Passion is boldly providing a contrast to the Health, Wealth and Prosperity Jesus? The Jesus of good-times and good-feelings promoted everywhere today? The Life Management Jesus of the megas and the seekers?
7. Are we prepared to see that The Passion is showing that Roman Catholicism has not produced a Joel Osteen, but has held on to the stations of the cross, and the sorrowful mysteries?
8. The critics say the sufferings of Christ have been lost to the culture. Isn’t the real question, where are the cross and the sufferings of Jesus in the church? Where is it in American Christianity? As American evangelicals leave the theaters in their BMWs and drive back to the suburbs for pizza and Sex in the City reruns on HBO, will they get the irony?
9. Why are the sufferings of the persecuted church so rarely heard from in evangelicalism? Is anyone preaching that Jesus is suffering now, as his body suffers around the world? Or are American Christians afraid of the suffering church and the judgement it renders on the rest of us?
10. Do we understand the Gospel enough to even explain this movie to our friends? Are saved by Jesus being flogged and crucifed as a man, or are we saved by the sins of the world being laid on the Son of God and expiated by the wrathful judgement of the Father? Do we understand what the book of Hebrews is talking about when it describes the sacrifice of Jesus in the heavenlies? Will The Passion make us feel sorry for Jesus? Or will it make us worship and love God?
11. Are we prepared to challenge the emotional commitments that evangelicals will harvest from this film? Do Southern Baptists and other invitational transactionalists have the spine to not manipulate this movie into a chance to get everyone feeling bad enough to sign up for heaven?
12. Is evangelical preaching about to become the casualty of this film? Will preachers now become commentors upon the 67th book of the Bible, the film clip Gospel?

My Review of The Gospel of John: The Movie

Denise and I just finished watching the new “Gospel of John” movie. I’d like to say a few things about it.

I have two other films that follow the Biblical text as the script. “Acts” is an unmitigated disaster. “Matthew” is ambitious, but odd and unsuccessful. I took a chance on this film with no recommendation and having only seen a few clips. I hoped to use it in my classes. I’m glad I did. John is totally different than the other Visual Bible movies, which suffered from a lack of good direction, money and creativity.

John is wonderful. I can’t recommend this film highly enough. It is well worth the $45 for the tapes or DVDs. It should be supported by Christians who love the Bible and want a film that supports and enhances our reading of the text itself.

Following the text of John in the ABS Today’s English Version as the script is a very tough assignment. John is quite different from the other Gospels. There are long sections of Jesus speaking with little interruption. Much of the text is a mixture of simple terms and deep concepts. There are major chronological contrasts with the Synoptic Gospels. The Gospel is not particularly “viewer” friendly in much of its approach. It takes 3 hours to tell the story, and with the excpetion of the long section of Jesus talking in 13-17, the film moves along at a brisk pace. Even that section seemed remarkable short, as many changing scenes and interactions kept it interesting.

Despite the challenges, this film is a thoroughgoing success. A superb cast plays each part perfectly. With a minimum of dialogue, most of the acting is done in silence, but we come to know the unique relationship between Jesus and the disciples in John. (Interestingly, Mary Magdalene is almost constantly among the disciples.)

Henry Ian Cusick is a marvelously versatile Jesus. John’s Jesus is “out of the closet” as God on earth from the very beginning, and it takes a careful balance of qualities to say “Before Abraham was, I Am,” but also to say “I am the Good Shepherd” with equal believability. Cusick carries out all the demands of the assignment with charm, intensity, humor and clarity. His monologues are memorable and easy to listen to.

The film is meticulously furnished with accurate historical detail. I was extremely impressed with how the film relied on the best scholarship rather than on popular consensus. The crucifixion is done better than any version I’ve seen. Details are gotten right, and this is hard because there are mental images of the crucifixion that are expected. This movie stays with the text and what we know. The crucifixion- and spearing- are carried out with blunt violence, but contrary to the Mel Gibson approach, don’t stop to engage in explorations of gore. The story moves at the same speed as the text, and you never forget that John is in control, not the director.

Christopher Plummer is the voice you hear most, as he narrates with style and feeling. He’s wonderful. The interweaving of narration and dialog is seamless and natural. Great camera work, flashbacks and good acting keep the monologue sections “busy” with enough changes to hold interest but not to distract from what Jesus is saying.

You will love how the movie introduces Jesus in the prologue. You’ll see the wedding at Cana, the feeding of the 5,000, the healing at the pool of Bethesda, the healing of the blind man, the raising of Lazarus, the footwashing of the disciples- it’s all done right, with tremendous awareness of the text and in a way that isn’t cheesy. The movie never skips a beat just because it might be difficult to put the scene on screen, such as the soldiers falling back when Jesus identifies himself in John 18.

The soundtrack is one of the highlights. Actual period instruments are mixed with orchestra to make a number of beautiful thematic tunes. Some of the songs use Aramaic vocals. The soundtrack is available separately.

The movie states up front that it will not be dodging the presentation of Jewish religious leaders who opposed Jesus. In this film, nothing is cut, and we sense throughout the movie the growing hostility and hatred toward Jesus. Pilate’s weakness and vacillation are portrayed as well. This film isn’t “PC” in even one scene. It potrays what the text says.

This isn’t the The Passion. It isn’t the creative scripting of Jesus of Nazereth. It is a unique film, beautiful and well done, and utterly faithful to one of the most powerful pieces of literature in the world. I felt like I was watching the first performance of some great play that had always been read but never acted. I recommend you purchase John, study the Gospel using it, and share it with others. It may get lost in the attention paid to The Passion, but John deserves your support. Without an “R” rating or a lingering focus on violence, it presents the Christ of the fourth Gospel in a way that will enhance your appreciation and love for Jesus and the book that so many have read to come to know him.