September 09, 2004

Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" and Mental Iconography

On Monday night, newly rented DVD in hand, I watched, for the first time, Mel Gibson's phenomenal movie "The Passion of the Christ." I cannot express how powerfully moved I was.

By that I do not mean simply emotionally moved. I was moved emotionally. Primarily by the scene, early on in the movie, of Peter's betrayal and his guilt and self-condemnation. Almost as powerfully by the scene in which the Theotokos hold's her Son's lifeless body and looks directly into the camera--and thus straight into one's own eyes. I was ready for the scene, expecting it, because I'd already read about it. But I was not prepared for the existential impact: I did this, not anyone else, me--by my own fault, my own fault, my own most grievous fault. The subversive hatred and fear of the Jewish elders, the sadism of the Roman torturers, the spitting of the crowd--Mary's gaze brought home the brutal, ugly reality: it was all my fault. The tortured cry of Christ: "Eloi, eloi, lama sabachthani?" felt like sharp iron thrust through me, both an indictment and my own cry in the desolation of my mortality, sin and guilt. It was strong, strong stuff.

Now I'm in a dilemma. I purchase movies for my own home collection primarily to relive the experience. That experience may be oriented around ideas and writing and story line, or it may be the thrill of the experience of good moviemaking. But how could I justify my purchase of "The Passion" on these grounds? Somehow buying "The Passion" for the experience of it seems horribly narcissistic and self-centered: which is precisely why the events depicted in "The Passion" happened!

But what would be an appropriate reason? Not for the experience, surely, at least not solely or even primarily. But what about as something like an icon? Icons are meant to be "windows into heaven" as the proverbial saying goes. They are meant to give us glimpses into divine realities. "The Passion" surely does that. This, then, would be both an appropriate and honorable reason for purchasing the DVD, it seems to me.

Still, there is a distinct difference between icons and a movie. Both are stylized--Gibson's graphic depiction of the physical violence of course is highly stylized. Both point to realities, godly realities, beyond themselves. Yet I remain in ambiguity.

I'm not sure how to articulate my hesitation. It's not as though icons depicting the crucifixion are bloodless, though some are more bloody than others. And it's not a case of simply wondering whether my mental iconography of the Passion should be the traditional iconography of the Church as opposed to the one of the film. There are a variety of traditional icons, each with their own distinctive emphases, and the one that lodges in one's mind will be the one that shapes one's primary responses to the Passion. Nor is it the case that the film excites the passions (grief, conviction, etc.), whereas traditional icons invite contemplation. One of the most moving icons I've ever experienced is the first one I came across of the "Extreme Humiliation" depicting Christ's repose in the tomb. And Gibson's "The Passion" has unleashed some sincere contemplation within me in the past couple of days.

What the ambiguity also is not, is some sort of concern over soteriological doctrine. Enough wise Orthodox have responded to that issue to quell any concern on my part on whether "The Passion of the Christ" can be meaningfully appropriated by Orthodox Christians. Nor is it a matter of the sort of aversion to mass popularity. I think it mostly true that if most of a consumerist, narcissistic society is for something, one should pause and reflect, and then avoid it. But though "The Passion" turned into something of a cultural phenomenon, I don't hesitate to appropriate it for my home on that basis alone.

But still I hesitate. And I'm not sure why. Is it that traditional icons have something that "The Passion of the Christ" does not have? Traditional icons have the considered experience of the Church over time. "The Passion" is too new. However, that is not usually a conscious consideration on my part, in whatever way it may play a significant unconscious role. Is it that, as a new father, and as an inquirer into Orthodoxy, my role as "priest" in the home has taken on ever-larger significance and seriousness? Am I hesistant because I am unsure of the effects on my family and our piety? Perhaps. But again, not in an overtly conscious way.

In the end, I have no real way to articulate my hesitation. "The Passion of the Christ" is one of the most important movies I've ever seen. And I'm not sure if I want to add it to my home collection. Why that is, I cannot say.

Posted by Clifton at September 9, 2004 11:00 AM | TrackBack
Comments

There is a letter in this months touchstone about the "I did this" response. I think it a very interesting counterpoint.

Posted by: Huw Raphael at September 10, 2004 02:13 AM

A very good letter. And a very great corrective to an unintended exagerration on my part. I certainly affirm--as did the movie--that Christ was the one who laid down his life and took it up again. My sins did not force him to do so, he did so of his own free accord and for love for me.

Which only magnifies, as the letter writer asserts, the wonder and beauty of the Incarnation.

Posted by: Clifton D. Healy at September 10, 2004 08:54 AM
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