...and I finally saw The Passion of the Christ.

It is, arguably, one of if not the finest movies I've ever seen. From an artistic point of view, it is an excellently-made film.¹ From a content-focused perspective, it is an excellently-made film. The overwhelming reaction that I had to it was, "You are not worthy of this man's sacrifice."

I'll leave it to the cadres of religious bloggers to nitpick over the import of the foregoing statement. At the same time, let me try and inject a bit of something that I hope C.S. Lewis might have said: "Well, of course. That's the very point that you and the rest of us are unworthy and that since we didn't deserve Christ's sacrifice, then it could only be an act of supreme love et cetera, so therefore kindly cease your quibbling."

Now, to the various numbered points: 1. In terms of "inside the box" theological understanding, the opening sequence with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane graphically illustrated a point to me that I usually ignored. Previously, I figured the entire period of time where Jesus was on Earth was essentially a fait accompli, wherein He was here and therefore it was only a matter of time until the redemption of man occurred. It was, in other words, a done deal.

This lead me to roll my eyes at the various Biblical passages wherein Satan tried to tempt Jesus into the service of Hell. I admit to always being amused where that was concerned, because I thought I could imagine Jesus' reactions to the whole bit: "Let me get this straight. Dad fired you, and you came here to planet Podunk where you're the 'prince of the air' or somesuch and you now offer me, the son of God---who I might add was your former boss---an opportunity to rule over this planet if only I'll worship you? Let's see. I'm due for vacation in the rest of Creation here shortly; let me think about your offer. Don't call us; we'll call you." Essentially, it would have been a reaction just short of Jesus bursting out into open laughter.

There's probably an inadvertant denial of the humanity of Christ in there if Torquemada's looking hard enough, but my point is made. Back to the movie: The garden scene gave me the distinct impression that Jesus was close to calling the whole thing off. Not so much that He was going to listen to that creepy-looking Satan, but that He was going to crumble under the burden that lay ahead. In fact, I sat there in the theater and thought to myself, "This was a closely-run thing."²

Realizing that there was a distinct chance that the entire redemption of man might not've come off left me unsettled. Off to a good start, eh?

2. I didn't know that the Roman occupation government allowed the Sanhedrin to maintain an armed body for such purposes as the Sanhedrin saw fit. Ostensibly these were temple guardsmen and security forces, but I had always figured, for some reason, that Roman soldiers or civilians had gone to help out with the capture/arrest of Jesus. The character of Malthus was done rather well; I assume that I would have responded similarly had I lost an ear and suddenly gotten it back.

The use of earth was an interesting touch. I assumed that Jesus simply remounted the detached ear, but it would be more uh, lyrical?, to have man repaired with one of the basic elements of creation, i.e. earth.

3. I'm no longer going to use the pray of "Not my will, but thine". I picked it up from Richard Nixon (said while he was preparing for the Checkers speech), but having seen it in the context that it was used originally, anything I put in that context would only cheapen the original and devalue it. I simply can't use for personal purposes a prayer offered in such earnestness over such high stakes by the son of God.

4. I didn't know (and didn't find in re-reading the King James Version) that there were members of the Sanhedrin who were opposed to the proceedings detailed in the movie. I suppose the Anti-Defamation League's odious Abe Foxman missed the part where Jewish opinion on Jesus was not unanimous. Not knowing anything about how the Sanhedrin worked, I would have thought that the various disassociations from the proceedings would have undermined the strength of the eventual decision. Maybe enough of them didn't leave to set up calls for a quorum or something under Rabinowicz's Rules of Order. It is of course a moot point, but it was something that surprised me.

5. Jesus Christ has to be the bravest man who ever lived. I (physically or mentally) couldn't have done what He did, and I suppose that's just one more reason I couldn't be Jesus.

6. The raven sequence was, at some visceral level, amusing. It's probably a very Roman Catholic thing: Blaspheme, and blammo! Beak 1, Eye Socket 0. Randall Flagg would have approved. I bet it wasn't fun having a raven sit there and play Woody Woodpecker with his skull for a while.

7. The "remember me when you come into your kingdom" component of the story is one of the more powerful components in the crucifixion story, and I thought Gibson pulled this off quite well.

8. Feeling guilty, Mr. Foxman? I suppose you could theoretically find this movie to be anti-Semitic...if you take out every sequence with the Romans in it. We watch the film and we see the ancestors of Beavis and Butt-head (or maybe Leonard and Bubba from Redneck Rampage) making a bloody smear on the floor with Jesus while some bureaucrat scribbles on a scroll. If anything, it was more of an anti-Roman film. This film has been useful to screen out the people who are, at the base of it all, a bunch of fanatics who can't deal with history as it seems to have happened. Those kinds of folks are the ones you don't need to listen to in the future. Mr. Foxman, you've made the list. Congratulations!

9. From an intellectual standpoint, I was happy that I could understand snippets of the Latin conversation. I suppose Latin to English is easier than Aramaic to English. This is meaningless in the big picture, but I enjoyed understanding someone without having to read the subtitles. Not that I mind subtitles; they're very useful if done right.

10. I will be buying the DVD---already got the book---and probably the soundtrack as well. For a review of the OST, see Filmtracks for a review that is more or less favorable.

11. The Passion is a very Roman Catholic film. I'm a Protestant---Methodist by trade, although there are times that I'm embarrassed by the national leadership---and therefore I bet that a lot of things were lost on me. There's probably some grand traditional story that Roman Catholic children are taught about the significance of Mary and Mary Magdalene sopping up the blood of Jesus from that courtyard. In fact, I bet that there was once a relic proclaimed to be the cloths used for that purpose. As for my part, I thought Pilate's wife was handing them a burial shroud.

This same thing cropped up with the woman pressing a towel to Jesus' face. I now know this to be the story of Saint Veronica, but at the time it rang no bells with me.

12. This movie was fair to Pilate. Now, Methodists say (or should say, ahem!) on a regular basis the "Apostles Creed, Traditional Version" (#881 in the hymnal, folks) which mentions that Jesus suffered under Pontius Pilate. He's been one of the RFSOBs (see Aliens where Private Hudson discusses the fate of Carter J. Burke for a translation) of history as a result. Yet, the older I got and the more thought I put into it, I figured Pilate had a raw deal.

Consider this: Pontius Pilate was an official in a government that didn't take too kindly to failures in office. There would not have been a Paul O'Neill in the Augustus Administration. Instead of Richard Cheney saying something like "The President is making some changes in his economic policy and you are part of that change" which leads to dimissal from office, Vice Emperor Cheney would have politely asked Mr. O'Neill not to bleed on the marble as Praetorian Guardsmen stabbed him to death. With that in mind, failure was not an option for Pilate. The possibility of death tends to make someone's political decisions a wee bit different than they would be if retirement to Tuscany with wine, women, and song were a possibility.

With regards to Pilate's famous question ("Quid est veritas?"), I think it's a fair one in my opinion. Look at it from the perspective of a Roman official governing conquered territory: The religious leadership of a conquered populace comes to you and says they want a guy put to death. You're not part of that religious tradition, and you really could care less what they want. All you're interested in is your performance review from the center, i.e. Rome. You talk to the accused and decide there's nothing there. You say this to the religious leadership.

Then they say the magic words about 'revolutionary' and 'no friend of Caesar'.

It gets very simple from there on out and Pilate does what any self-respecting occupation authority man would do: He caves. This is marvelously explained in the potentially apocryphal scene where Pilate explains to his wife that, "Let me tell you my truth" and that the central government isn't interested in hearing about another revolt. Faced with what seemed like an easy question, Pilate did what he thought was right for the situation. It's very, very easy to sit back and criticize him, but can anyone who does so say this in honesty? What would you, or I, or anyone have done under the circumstances that Pilate found himself in?

John O'Sullivan parallels this for a while (but goes in a slightly different direction than I do) and since I read this before seeing the movie, I presume that some of my thought on the subject was informed by Mr. O'Sullivan.

13. Having just spent a bit defending Pilate, let me say a few words on Caiaphas. Like Pilate, I figure Caiaphas was doing what he had to do. I presume that the Roman policy on insurrection was simple: In case of insurrection, kill the current leadership. O'Sullivan goes further into depth on the question, and my points would be largely repetitive.

All in all, an impressive cinematic experience. I highly recommend to anyone over the age of 18.

¹ Worth noting is the presence of Caleb Deschanel on this film's production. Mr. Deschanel also was the cinematographer on The Right Stuff, The Natural, and The Patriot. His work is good in these films and it is good here. Mr. Deschanel's wife played Annie Glenn to Ed Harris' John Glenn in The Right Stuff, while their daughter, Zooey, was a babe in the Will Ferrell vehicle Elf.

² There are multiple versions of the quote from Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley, first Duke of Wellington. My use is more or less what I thought at the time, whether it is accurate to the true quotation by Wellington or not.

Posted by: Country Pundit at 10:14 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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