The Passion's Debate

The Urbane R © 2004 P. Scott Cummins
The Passion’s Debate

When considering “The Passion of The Christ” it is important for me to be up front: as a Christian I am enthusiastic in my intellectual and emotional relationship with God. Over twenty five years ago, I was very fortunate to visit Israel and Palestinian territory. We Seattle teenagers spent time in East Jerusalem, in a Palestinian-owned hotel, and were taught to eat kosher by our Palestinian hosts, in preparation for the rest of our trip. I developed a bond with the owner’s son over mutual infatuations with girls and soccer (in that order) as is the case with boys around the world. Aghast, he encountered me on Sunday, observing I was not in church. “You must go to pray” he intoned. “I will take you to Jesus’ church” he concluded firmly.

In Jerusalem I experienced the power of Yad Vashem – an amazing place to bring a teenager: the everlasting memorial for the precious human lives taken by the Holocaust – created so that their suffering may never be in vain through remembrance of their dignity and bravery. The power of Yad Vashem is experienced in a visceral way: the brutal enormity of Holocaust evil on individual human lives, families, communities. The attempt to eradicate systems of laws, belief, culture and human interaction undergirding Judaism – which is at the very bedrock of civilization. That there has been triumph from this assault is testament to the power of people, Jewish people. In America today, I am confident that not only is this a predominant Christian expiation, it is seared into our very souls.

It is worth noting comparison to Christ’s Passion: that it too is of emotive, empathetic feeling. While sharing recrudescent concerns for anti-Semitism - as a Christian I have been taught that all of us are in that mob. Even Peter himself (the “rock of the church”) denied Christ three times during Jesus’ final hours. If Peter was cowed by a mob mentality engendered through the brutally repressive dictatorial Roman regime – then who am I? No one is above the selfishness which Christ transcends through His selflessness. That is the gift of grace. It is given for you – the Christian message is acknowledgment and acceptance of that love. That is the real story of the passion.

It should be clear by now that Gibson’s aim was to make Christianity’s own Zapruder film. Just like that account of John F. Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas, it is a view raising as many questions as answers. Question we must: and God wants us to be in touch (through prayer) with our questions. Gibson would not want it any other way. “Feeling” is Gibson’s watchword; from sympathy and understanding - to the visceral empathetic transcendent love for which the resurrection of Christ is the saving end. In other words, “feel the power” of the Christian message, Gibson implores. Still, the question must be asked: was the orgy of violence really necessary to get the point across? The point could have been made without it – but the raw visceral impact, what of it? Gibson told Diane Sawyer on 60 Minutes: “I wanted it to be shocking. And I also wanted it to be extreme. I wanted it to push the viewer over the edge. And it does that. I think it pushes one over the edge. So that they see the enormity, the enormity of that sacrifice. To see that someone could endure that and still come back with love and forgiveness even through extreme pain and suffering and ridicule.” Sawyer asked if this film represented the version of events - filmmaker as avatar of divine direction. Gibson responded: “No, not at all. Not at all. It really is my vision. I'm not, boy, I'm not taking myself out of the equation here, I'm a proud bugger, I did this. But I did it with God's help. I mean, this is my version of what happened according to the Gospels and what I wanted to show, the aspects of it I wanted to show.” Oh, to what church did my Palestinian Muslim friend take me that Sunday? He took this Protestant Christian boy to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and walked me along the Via Dolorosa to get there. He wanted me to know where Jesus had walked in suffering, he told me. Mel Gibson, it seems, is a lot like that Palestinian boy.