A less visual version of ‘The Passion of the Christ’

MICHELE MARR

Tomorrow is Good Friday, the day on which Christians commemorate the

anniversary of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

Many Christians will take the day, or part of the day, off work to

attend a customary three-hour church service devoted to meditating on

what are known as Jesus’ last seven words, or utterances.

Most familiar among these are the first words Jesus spoke from his

cross concerning those who wished him crucified: “Father, forgive

them; for they know not what they do.” -- Luke 23:34.

Not “Father pour your wrath on them,” but “Father, forgive them.”

In the most brutal circumstances, he did what he had urged his

followers to do: “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do

good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you

and persecute you.” -- Matthew 5:44.

The service is somber, recounting Jesus’ last hours on the cross

and at three hours, it’s long, so long some pastors choose to preach

on the last seven words over seven successive Sundays leading up to

Easter.

After praying for those who persecuted him, he offered words of

comfort to one of two criminals, also crucified and suffering beside

him. When the man pleaded, “Lord, remember me when You come into Your

kingdom,” Jesus replied, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be

with Me in paradise” -- Luke 23:42, 43.

For his widowed, soon to be childless mother, he offered

provision, saying to her, “Woman, behold your son!” then to his

disciple John, “Behold your mother!” -- John 19:26, 27.

He acknowledged his imminent death, quoting the first line of

Psalm 22: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? -- Mark 15:34.

He said, “I thirst!” -- John 19:28; “It is finished!” -- John 19:30;

and his final words, “Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit.”

-- Luke 23:46.

Some congregations participate in a shorter service devoted to

what are known as the Stations of the Cross, with each of 14 stations

representing an event, which, according to oral and written Christian

tradition, took place between the time Jesus was condemned to die

until he was lain in his tomb.

This year, with the release of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the

Christ,” it all but seems as if Good Friday arrived on Ash Wednesday

to linger on past Easter. Largely because of its violence I resisted

seeing the film until last week.

I have a hard time dealing with visually graphic violence; I love

reading a story by Stephen King, but don’t make me see the movie

unless I can leave during the gory parts. I’ve never seen

“Braveheart” or “The Patriot.”

While waiting for “The Passion of the Christ” to begin, I was

surprised by the number of families filing into the afternoon showing

with children no older than 4, 5 and 6. And I was nearly as surprised

by the couples and families toting tubs of popcorn and soft drinks.

The last thing I wanted to do was eat.

But what finally surprised me most was the film. Despite a handful

of special effects that allow us to see spiritual forces typically

invisible to us, the film is so persuasively real I found myself

expecting to catch a glimpse of a cameraman in another cameraman’s

lens. Then I’d remember; there were no cameramen in AD 30-something.

It’s true what some critics have said; the character development

is thin -- even for Jesus. The story is told much as though its

viewers stumbled onto the events not unlike one might happen upon at

an outdoor wedding or the scene of an accident.

Had I not brought prior, and broader, knowledge of the story and

its characters to the film, I can’t say what message it might have

conveyed beyond the ageless truth that man can inflict the most

grievous, monstrous inhumanity on his fellow man.

I don’t think, if someone saw Gibson’s film without first having

read the New Testament Gospels from which it is drawn, they would

glean that man suffering such callous brutality is also its cure. But

God knows -- that epiphany has been spawned by more surprising

things.

I imagine Gibson was content to leave these matters to God and to

focus single-mindedly on filming what for him is a twofold love

story: the story of his love for Jesus the Christ and the boundless

love of Jesus for mankind.

It’s the love story that’s been told, if far less graphically, at

least once every year between Good Friday and Easter. It’s the story

that testifies to what Scripture claims, “God is love.” -- 1 John 4:8

It’s the love story that implores us to do what Jesus longs for us

to do: to love each other just as he loves us.

* MICHELE MARR is a freelance writer from Huntington Beach. She

can be reached at [email protected].