(I have yet another one which is her first direct review of the
accuracy and
angles of the movie, if anyone's interested).
an editor at Newsday emailed me last Weds asking me to do a piece
comparing two images of the Crucifixion, one very graphic and the
other not, and talk about the difference. I chose this one as an icon:
http://www.skete.com/moreinfo.cfm?Category=39&Product_ID=255
and this one as a Western image:
http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/t/p-terbrug4.htm
It was interesting in the editing process, because I learned that
things I assumed "everyone" knew needed to be explained. eg, I begin
and end with lines from the Gospel hymn, "were you there when they
crucified my Lord?" But in the original version, I didn't put them in
quotes or give attribution, and the editor didn't recognize the
reference. Which must have made the closing line sound pretty strange.
In the section where I was going on the difference in theology I did
it as briefly as possible, bec I only had 650 words. He said something
i hadn't expected, that the Eastern Christian approach sounded like it
was just words, just concepts, with no personal connection. So he
asked me to take more words to explore that.
In the end they wanted to cut again, and what they cut was all three
of the Scripture citations I'd given. See if you can tell where I
would have used a Scripture, and I'll give the answers at the end.
BTW this is still not a review of the movie--I've never written a
review of the movie. I'll send a message after this with a few
thoughts because so many people are asking me.
************
"Were you there when they crucified my Lord?" asks the old Gospel
hymn.
Mel Gibson's powerful film, "The Passion of the Christ," has brought
many viewers "there," and I rejoice with those who say it deepened
their faith. I can understand why this film moves them so much.
But I don't think they understand why a fellow-believer might prefer a
different approach. It seems to them that any less-than-graphic
portrayal is weak - "sanitized."
But is that the only way to see it? Here, for example, are two
paintings made early in the 17th century. The one with the golden
background represents the Eastern Christian tradition, and is by the
iconographer Emmanuel Lambardos of Crete. The other, emblematic of Mel
Gibson's Western tradition, is by the Dutch painter Hendrick ter
Brugghen.
The ter Brugghen Christ sags like a corpse, and he is corpse-colored,
yellow and gray. Blood spills from his hands and side in streams of
muted red. His face is bent in shadow, but his straining arms, bloated
abdomen and perfectly articulated knee catch the metallic light.
If you look at the knees of Lambardos' Christ you see two little
circles. This painting doesn't even attempt realism. Christ's long,
thin arms are open as if in offering. He stands on the foot platform
weary but unbroken. His face is folded in sorrow, yet tranquil, and a
spot of rose lingers on his cheek. All around him angels reel in awe.
The ter Brugghen is a better painting. Or is it? It's more
"realistic," but that presumes that "reality" is what a news camera
would capture. The icon tradition of the Christian East flavors images
with deliberate "unreality" in order to preserve the inexpressible:
manipulated perspective, geometric landscapes, golden backgrounds.
These two approaches represent different answers to the question, What
does Christ's suffering mean?
In medieval Europe, the idea arose that God could not simply forgive
our sins; there had to be a payment. Christ paid this debt on the
Cross. Others objected that Christ's sufferings were not a payment but
an example of love for us to imitate. In either case, the Passion
became crystallized as the moment of salvation, and we were called to
identify with Christ's suffering.
The Eastern Church, however, maintained an earlier understanding.
Here, God the Father does not need payment, and Christ is much more
than an example. Instead, our salvation involves a real change in our
being, a rescue from a state of decay. Christ's Incarnation permeated
our common life to restore God's intimate, immediate presence. His
resurrection destroyed death, freeing us from the darkness and misery
that enslave mankind. In this story, the Passion plays an
extraordinary part, but it is not the sole decisive moment.
Christ lives, and we live in a continuing interior communion that will
assimilate us with his light and transform us to be like him. We don't
dwell on the idea that he is like us; the energy is all going in the
other direction. We would not presume to identify with him, as if we
understand what he's going through and figure he feels about it like
we would.
Ter Brugghen presents Christ's gray body within arm's reach, and John
gazes at it in rapture. But in the icon the golden body is lifted
high, reigning over heaven and earth. We cannot begin to understand
what is transpiring here. Like the stricken angels, we cover our
mouths.
The Vietnam Veterans' Memorial in Washington is a wall of polished
granite displaying thousands of names. But might someone say, in
accord with the view of the Gibson film, that if we haven't seen the
suffering, we're not taking it seriously enough? Let's add a photo
next to each name, showing the person at the moment of dying, blown
apart or bleeding. Since we don't have those photos, we'll put look-
alike actors in makeup, with latex wounds and fake blood. If we honor
soldiers for dying, well then, let's watch them die.
If your friend died in Vietnam, you would not want him treated that
way. Why not give Jesus the same dignity?
Mel Gibson's movie stands in a great tradition of Western art. But
realistic depiction comes with a price. To turn a great sacrifice into
specific images will inevitably reduce it. It turns it into an
ordinary horrible act, the kind humans inflict on each other every
day, pressed down to manageable size. As we fix the memory we cease to
experience it. We turn it into something we can digest and explain.
But we cannot understand the Cross. If you were there, experiencing
every moment with every sense, you still could not tell what
transpired or how it swept through your soul.
Were you there? I don't have a photo of what it was like. But as the
old hymn says, "Sometimes it causes me to tremble."
*************
here's the lines that were cut:
Christ's Incarnation permeated our common life to restore God's
intimate, immediate presence. "The Kingdom of God is within you," he
said (Luke 17:21).
We would not presume to identify with him, as if we can understand
what he's going through and figure he feels about how we would. "My
thoughts are not your thoughts, says the LORD" (Isaiah 55:8).
If your friend had died in Vietnam you would not want him treated that
way. Why don't we give Jesus the same dignity, who said to his
apostles, "You are my friends"? (John 15:14)
> http://cgfa.sunsite.dk/t/p-terbrug4.htm
Both are pretty powerful, well rendered depictions.
(from review ~ not Susan's words):
> The Vietnam Veterans' Memorial in Washington is a wall of polished
> granite displaying thousands of names. But might someone say, in
> accord with the view of the Gibson film, that if we haven't seen the
> suffering, we're not taking it seriously enough? Let's add a photo
> next to each name, showing the person at the moment of dying, blown
> apart or bleeding. Since we don't have those photos, we'll put look-
> alike actors in makeup, with latex wounds and fake blood. If we honor
> soldiers for dying, well then, let's watch them die.
>
> If your friend died in Vietnam, you would not want him treated that
> way. Why not give Jesus the same dignity?
Jesus should be given the same dignity. That's why I have trouble with
Gibson's film. It is poor storytelling and revisionism.
Jesus is a cardboard caricature (at best) in the hands of Gibson....take
someone who has no great interest in the Christ, and the movie will not sway
hearts given the manner that Gibson depicts Jesus. However, it may sway
hearts towards seeing Pilate as being kind of huggable....but I don't know
if that's the way I'd want my version of the Passion to work...
I've no trouble with someone wanting to portray the agony and angst that He
endured...I'd just like them to do a good job of it.
> Mel Gibson's movie stands in a great tradition of Western art.
No, Mel Gibson's movie takes the formula of summer blockbusters and applies
it to a film that is about Jesus (instead of buddy cops, giant dinosaurs,
superheroes, etc.). That's not great art...that's formula.