Upon Viewing Mel Gibson’s Passion

The first person from the religious community of Jackson, Mississippi to offer a hand to me in friendship was Father Craig Gates who was, at the time, the Rector of St. Philips Episcopal Church which sat directly across the street from Beth Israel Congregation. Raised a Roman Catholic, and a blend of Cajun and Italian ancestral roots, Father Gates is a gregarious, loving and passionate man. Over the five years we were neighbors we developed a close friendship. I recall many times when I sought Craig’s counsel and comfort: in the hour before I officiated a funeral for an 18-month old child who had drowned in the reservoir behind the family’s home; as we faced the Gulf War and threats were made against our congregation; on numerous occasions when I wanted to understand the dynamics of Jackson’s deeply religious community; and when Martin Scorcese’s controversial film based on Nikos Kazantzakis' novel The Last Temptation Christ opened to loud and vociferous protest. I remember asking Craig what he thought of the film – “I haven’t seen it. Why don’t we see it together?” “Sure, when? Where?” “In my living-room, when the video comes out.” As so we did – Laura and I, joining Craig and Dorothy Gates for dinner and a movie at their home. It was helpful as they aided us in sorting out the Biblical threads of Scorcese’s production from the extra-Biblical.

I thought about my friend Craig Gates this week. I especially thought about him as the lights came up in the movie theater in Randolph where, on Wednesday afternoon, together with about 80 other Jewish and Christian religious leaders I viewed Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. As the lights came on in the eerily silent theater, it was explained that we would take a short break before a panel of scholars would lead us in a discussion of the film. There was a room upstairs where we could retire for refreshments before the discussion. For the longest time, no one moved. It is as if we were bound to our seats. Eventually the crowd began to stir – most of us breaking not for refreshments but for the rest rooms. As I emerged from the theater I joined a huddle of Rabbinic colleagues and other leaders of our Jewish community. You could see the shock on everyone’s face. “It’s even worse than I expected” was the most common remark heard. “I wonder what our Christian colleagues and friends are thinking.” Another sentiment voiced over and again.

Soon it was time for the discussion, and we learned the answer to our question. After hearing from Phil Cunningham, Director of the Center for Christian‑Jewish Learning at Boston College, and his colleague Rabbi Ruth Langer, Associate Director of the Center, the audience was invited to share their thoughts and questions. What struck me most was the depth of the pain I heard in the voices and saw in the faces of my Christian colleagues. They spoke of their embarrassment and horror at the reality of Gibson’s film. One after another they spoke of discouraging their members from viewing the film, and of their concern for the damage this film might cause in the relationships within and between our religious communities. Needless to say, these feelings were echoed by the Jewish members of the audience. I left the theater early to make my way back here for our evening’s High School program which was devoted to learning about the times in which Jesus lived and a Jewish understanding of his life and mission. I was in a daze. I’m not entirely certain how I had the presence of mind – either to drive back from Randolph or to play my role in that evening’s program.

I confess, at moments I still find my mind drifting and the daze returning. Mel Gibson’s Passion is a brutal, grotesque and relentless movie. If 30 minutes of the 2 hours and 15 minutes are not given to violence, it’s a lot. The problems I have with this film run on so many levels. I don’t know that I have ever reacted to a piece of cinema, theater, or literature in quite the same way. If we are to understand the meaning of “the Passion” as understanding the suffering of Jesus during his last days and hours, Mr. Gibson has surely done a masterful job of creating a work which makes his audiences suffer. It is impossible to watch this film without turning one’s eyes – at least periodically. I will tell you, there were numerous moments when I simply had to cover my eyes as I could not bear the relentless, over-the-top brutal portrayal of the scourging and crucifixion of Jesus. I never lost sight of the fact that this was a movie. But it was simply too much.

Like many of you, I watched Mr. Gibson’s hour-long session with Diane Sawyer a few weeks ago. I distinctly recall him explaining that this is a film about love, compassion, hope and reconciliation. I’m sorry – maybe it’s me. Maybe I missed it. This is a film about violence. This is a film about hatred. And for all his protestations that this is not about laying blame for the death of Jesus, to me this film blatantly lays the blame at the feet of the Jews of Jesus’ day. It is clear that the caricatured, stereotyped priests and the majority of the Jews who surround them are calling for Jesus’ death. Advance word suggested that the line from the Gospel of Matthew, “His blood be upon us and upon our children,” long at the root of much Christian anti-Semitism had been removed from the film. For most viewers it is. I must tell you, there was one positive part of my experience – echoed by a number of my rabbinic colleagues. I was amazed at how much of the Aramaic I understood, not needing to rely on the sub-titles which translate only a fraction of what is heard on screen. At the climax of the call for Jesus’ death, though untranslated in the English, came the clarion call of Matthew’s words, “His blood be upon us and upon our children.” I, for one, won’t be a bit surprised if this does, in fact, appear in the subtitles as the film makes its way into the European and Middle Eastern markets or the eventual no doubt Director’s Cut DVD of the film. Virtually every mainstream Christian denomination has guidelines for Passion Plays which explicitly call for the exclusion of this line and its charge. I’m sorry Mr. Gibson, your film does lay blame. As you explained to Diane Sawyer that while it doesn’t lay specific blame, you also offered the postscript, “Who was there in those days – Jews and Romans?” Well, the Romans though depicted as cruel and brutal, are not in this viewer’s eyes painted as responsible in any way, shape or form for Jesus’ being sentenced to death by crucifixion. Pilate, who according to all the historical and Gospel sources was cruel and inhuman, actually comes off in the film as a somewhat tragic figure for whom one could have sympathy.

Mr. Gibson claims his film is based on the Gospels. There are surely enough lines from the Gospels, which are at the core of Christian faith, to support his claim. Even I got this. The abundant sprinkling of Biblical quotes will lead many Christian viewers to affirm that the film is Biblically based. Yet, the experts tell us that there are numerous elements of the film which are extra-Biblical. A significant part of the inspiration for aspects of the film is based on the writings of a 19th century nun names Anne Catherine Emmerich who claims to have had visitations from Jesus. In her writings, Emmerich blames the Jews for the death of Jesus, and it is this element along with the introduction of a bizarre Satanic figure and other features which have made it into the story. In the words of BC’s Phil Cunningham, “there is an awful lot of Anne Catherine Emmerich in this movie, and she doesn’t even get a writing credit.” In Jewish life we also allow for interpretations of Biblical text. We have a name for it – it is called Midrash. But we generally don’t confuse Midrash and Torah. Nor do we try to pass off Midrash as Scripture.

Last night I watched Mel Gibson’s appearance with Jay Leno. Frankly, I wanted to see his demeanor and hear his words now that the film has been released. The two of them had a grand time kibbitzing and joking about the film, and the controversy it has unleashed. Asked about those who have been critical of the film and of him, Gibson replied, “it’s all just knee-jerk reaction.” I found myself wondering aloud, “And your outbursts about wanting to kill some of those critics isn’t a knee-jerk reaction.” Ironically, the words of the Gospel, “Let he who is without blame cast the first stone” came to mind.

There are so many aspects of my complaints with this film that I simply can’t enumerate them all here tonight. Still reeling from the viewing and the grotesque and inhumane images I cannot shake from my mind, yesterday I called my friend Craig. I could hear him screaming to the folks in his office – “It’s my rabbi calling from Boston..” Turning to me he said, “you sound sad.” In truth, I thought I was more tired than sad, but I explained my experience of the previous day. “Oh, I’m seeing it tonight with a group from our church.” We chatted for a while and agreed to speak this morning. As promised Craig called me precisely a 9 a.m. However, the vocal sadness now emanated from Greenwood, Mississippi rather than Newton. “How are you,” I asked. “Not great” came the reply. “The movie was awful. It’s hard enough for me to read the Passion, let alone have it visualized and even over-visualized.” I asked how his members had reacted. “I was so devastated I left.” We chatted for a while about the sources, especially the Gospels. When I remarked that some of the Gospels, John for instance, were written as much as 100 years after Jesus’ death he screamed, “All of this is fiction. But you can’t tell a Christian that.” As our conversation neared its end – he had a morning service to attend, we spoke for a moment about where this leads us. Craig said, “God did not send Jesus to die. He came to teach us how to live. But that’s not where this film takes me.” We agreed to talk again soon.

A few days distance has helped me embrace the realization that as Jews we see a different film from our Christian neighbors. For many of them, the story Mel Gibson tells on the big screen is at the core of their faith, much as the Pesach story we will rehearse in just over a month is at the core of ours. I have spoken before about the power, importance and centrality of sacred myth in our tradition. We must be respectful of the sacred myths of our neighbors.

Friends, Mel Gibson’s film is about death, not life. It is about hate, not love. It is about fear, not compassion and hope. It is fraught with historical and theological inaccuracies. (And I have set up a table with literature in the Social Hall for those who would like to learn or read more.)

Mel Gibson wants us to see this film as being about love, hope and reconciliation. It isn’t – not for me. I suspect it isn’t for most Jews who see it and based on my conversations it won’t be for many Christians who see it either. But it can be. Friends, the Jewish and Christian communities have spent decades building bridges. Sadly, in the words of Professor Michael Cook of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion (our Scholar-in-Residence a few years ago), we are learning that some of these bridges are draw-bridges. But ultimately I believe most of the bridges are real. The Gospel According to Mel, a.k.a. The Passion of the Christ is a disturbing film. But it is a film – and this is America. Surely some are afraid of what this may unleash. I want to trust my neighbors, and I want to trust the hard work and the groundwork we have been laying for a time just such as this. We need to remain vigilant and committed to strengthening the bridges and the relationships we have nurtured. We must reinforce them. We must cross them and keep crossing them.

In the Talmud we read words which have found their way into our liturgy as a suggested text for contemplation during our moments of silent prayer. I think they are appropriate as on this Shabbat we pause from the tumult of these past weeks and especially these past days:

Elohai n’tzor l’shoni mey-ra – O God, keep my tongue from evil and my lips from deceit. Help me to be silent in the face of derision, humble in the presence of all. Open my heart to Your teaching, and I will hasten to do Your commandments. Save me with Your power; in time of trouble be my answer, that all who love You may rejoice.

To that I hope you will join me in saying, Amen!