Critics find themselves divided. Some applaud the portrayal of Jesus' final twelve hours while others are throwing rotten tomatoes. Nevertheless, they would all agree that watching it is an excruciating experience. For many, seeing Jesus' torments vividly, graphically and relentlessly illustrated only serves to heighten their appreciation of Christ's love for humankind. For others, Gibson's hyper-realistic violence is gratuitous, an act of cruelty carried out upon the audience by an agenda-driven, heavy-handed, insensitive director.

In this column, I first shared news about the film on August 19, 2002. There has been news on an almost weekly basis ever since. Film Forum readers even shared their suggestions on how to make a good Jesus movie. It has been a long and painful process, monitoring the debates, the mudslinging, the defense, and the speculation. So it is with a sense of relief that I am glad to finally share a few thoughts on the finished work, and links to the responses of other critics as well.

Now that I've seen the film, I find myself with a foot in each of the two critics' camps. The Passion of The Christ has commendable strengths, but it has flaws as well. Gibson's film is not The Fifth Gospel—it is a work of art by a human being. Thus, it is not sacrilegious to point out the work's weaknesses. (Critics who consider it imperfect are sure to receive angry letters, as though their comments about artistry are directed at the gospel itself instead of the way this version is illustrated.)

Gibson includes the basic events of Christ's last hours, and adheres remarkably well to the dialogue and descriptions in the Gospels. Thus, his film is powerful. How could any decent account of the events on Calvary fail to move audiences? The way the director and star of Braveheart weaves together Christ's suffering with flashbacks to earlier events creates interesting juxtapositions. At each stage of Jesus' torture, we are reminded that he prophesied these very events and that he willingly and courageously gave himself up to them. With every new stage in his anguish, we are reminded that these punishments come as a response to his teachings about love and turning the other cheek. Each blow struck by the enemy is the antithesis of the sort of power the Son of God endorsed.

But Gibson's lack of attention to other chapters in Christ's life does indeed pose challenges to viewers—especially those who do not know the gospel story. We receive only glimpses of the Sermon on the Mount and the Last Supper. We are given no reference to how Christ entered the world. Each audience member is left to seek out the missing pieces and put together what it all means. Will they? That depends. It is possible that the anxiety and exhaustion they experience viewing the film will give some of them an aversion to exploring Christ's life any more deeply. Others may be inspired to investigate.

In The Passion, the path from the garden of Gethsemane to the cross is such a marathon of bloodshed—Jesus is beaten and bloodied even before he leaves the garden—that I found myself a bit dizzy from the violence only an hour into the film. It became harder and harder to focus on what the director was trying to reveal concerning Christ's teachings and his love.

Any decent human being portrayed in physical agony will draw an audience's sympathies. I left wanting to know more about this suffering figure. I wanted to see more about what made him distinct. Seeing so much brutality, my emotional responses went numb, and I was merely watching, wondering what kind of body cast the actor Jim Caveziel was wearing in order to make it appear that barbed whips were ripping chunks out of his flesh. Endless cracks of the whips, the wearying mockery of the tormenters, and the numerous sequences that show Jesus collapsing in every imaginable way made me wish the film had a different editor.

Gibson is the sort of filmmaker for whom the image of a dead donkey being devoured by maggots is not merely a subtle accent that suggests corruption. No, he gives us long close-ups on that decomposing corpse, so that even the most distracted or hard-hearted viewer will be sure to squirm. His tendency toward excessive force interferes with his attempts at visual poetry. The realism of the portrayal is indeed impressive, but it comes at the cost of thoughtful storytelling. Flannery O'Connor said that for deaf audiences, a storyteller must shout. Contemporary audiences may indeed be somewhat deaf to the story of Christ, but I would add that if you shout too loud and too much, you'll only further cripple your audience and bring your credibility into question.

Let's move on—there is more to examine here than violence.

Let us be done with the question of anti-Semitism in this film. The bloodthirsty Roman soldiers abuse Jesus and his faithful Jewish followers, using the word "Jew" as an expletive. Clearly, Gibson's sympathies lie with the persecuted Jew, his mother and his companions, and those who would persecute an entire people are clearly monsters. No one would admire or feel any sympathy for these beastly soldiers. It is true that Jewish religious leaders are portrayed as calling for Christ's crucifixion, but that is not cause for anti-Semitism. That is a warning about the dangers of religious power—in any religion, even Christianity.

Several prominent Jewish characters are shown having deep sympathy for Christ. In fact, Simon of Cyrene, one of the few supporting characters given any sort of personality or character, has an even more inspiring task here than the Gospels describe. During the long march to Golgotha, he develops a wordless, intimate bond with the Savior that becomes one of the film's most resonant and beautiful highlights.

Aside from the film's firm scriptural foundation, Caleb Deschanel's cinematography is The Passion's greatest strength. His mastery of light and darkness, his careful framing of panoramic pain captures some of the most breathtaking religious imagery ever filmed. Experienced in smaller doses, I would find any section of this film deeply moving on that basis alone.

It helps that Deschanel has such talented actors to film. Jim Caviezel's commitment to showing us a convincing Jesus Christ is unnerving in its intensity. Not only does he speak Christ's words in Aramaic as though he grew up with the language, giving us the feeling of time travel back to the real events, but his physical manifestation of Christ's internal turmoil is as compelling as the blows his body suffers. Acting his way through layers of makeup and special effects, he communicates Jesus' immeasurable restraint. We can see in him, and in the amazement and dismay of his followers, that Christ is holding back, refusing to indulge his heavenly influence to save himself. This Jesus speaks volumes through the silent gazes he shares with his faithful, especially Mary.

Romanian actress Maia Morgenstern is a strong, believable, sympathetic Mary. The intuitive mother/son bond between her and Christ plays more intensely than I have ever imagined it. In one moment, when Christ pauses, exhausted from carrying the cross and yet having only just begun, he turns to her and groans, "You see, Mother, how I make all things new?" It is a moment loaded with irony and anguish. And yet he speaks the truth—his endurance of crucifixion will transform the abuse, making it possible for his followers to suffer persecution while never losing grasp of their faith and their hope.

In one of Gibson's few truly inventive choices, Mary's grief, suffering, and love are mocked by the most sinister Satan that audiences have ever seen, an androgynous figure who can only mock and lie, a warped mirror that distorts everything good, including, in one horrifying instance, traditional images of Mary cradling the Christ child. Actress Rosalinda Celentano brings to life a truly alien presence, something that does not belong in a world God has made, something that exists solely to destroy.

Hristo Naumov Shopov's performance as Pilate is also worthy of note. The Pilate of the script by Gibson and co-writer Benedict Fitzgerald does not demonstrate the cruelty that history attributes to the figure. But Shopov gives us the Pilate of the Gospels, a man desperate to rid himself of any matters concerning the Jewish law and the brusque, manipulative religious leaders. Pilate's quiet intelligence, fear, insecurity, and sympathy for this innocent, accused man are a fascinating confusion as he interrogates Christ and weighs his options.

The rest of the characters are disappointingly flat. There's nothing memorable about Peter, who merely gapes, denies, and cowers. John remains misty-eyed and solemn. Mary Magdalene, presented as the woman caught in adultery (a tradition in Christian art, but not a detail of Scripture), remains marginal, notable only for the way Monica Bellucci's beauty stands out in a crowd of despairing onlookers.

But there is one monumentally disappointing detail in Gibson's finished product. It is painful to imagine what might have happened had the music been written by a great composer. When Gibson showed early versions of the film, before the soundtrack was finished, he reportedly "borrowed" tracks from The Last Temptation of Christ's soundtrack-music by Peter Gabriel. While Last Temptation was condemned as a blasphemous film by most Christian moviegoers, its soundtrack is a masterpiece, a highly original fusion of differing styles, ancient and contemporary, from several different nations. Now that we have Gibson's final cut, we discover that composer John Debney turned in something that sounds like musical plagiarism. Those familiar with Gabriel's album Passion, the stand-alone symphony that grew out of his Last Temptation soundtrack, may find themselves frequently distracted, as I was. The themes and flourishes here are so similar that some will swear it's exactly the same music. It would only have been fair to credit Gabriel's influence.

In the end, it is hard to know whether or not to recommend The Passion of The Christ. And, if it is recommendable, to whom do we recommend it? These vivid images are clearly Gibson's version of the Passion. Most Christians would say they have a picture of Christ that has come to them through their own encounters with the text. Some may wish to preserve the version they have imagined while reading the Gospels, rather than allow these blunt, bloody images to burn indelibly into their minds.

Others may want to steer clear—teenagers and adults alike—because it is entirely possible to understand and appreciate Christ's sacrifice without having to swallow a blow-by-blow account of the destruction of his body. So rather than dissuade readers from attending the film, I'd encourage them to ignore "Christian peer pressure." Weigh heavily whether you are prepared, and whether you can maintain a sense of critical discernment as you watch. One Christian critic suggested that those who avoid the film because of its violence share the cowardice of the disciples who fled the scene. That is a ridiculous claim. Avoiding the film may, for some, be the braver choice.

It is worth noting that, while Protestants are enthusiastically embracing the film, it is a Catholic work through and through, from its adherence to the Stations of the Cross to its reverent attention to Mary's experience of the ordeal. These aspects of it impressed Catholic film critic Steven D. Greydanus (Decent Films). "The film is an imaginative, at times poetic reflection on the meaning of the gospel story in light of sacred tradition and Catholic theology," he writes. "[It is] a preeminently important cinematic expression of the faith—probably one of the most important religious films of all time."

Greydanus, whose review impressed Roger Ebert so much that he quoted it in his own review, also addresses the issue of anti-Semitism in the film.

Elsewhere, Andrew Coffin (World Magazine) calls the film a "powerful, emotionally wrenching viewing." But he also argues that the film's limited focus on the "passion" is both a strength and a limitation. "It may be best to liken The Passion to a painting of Christ by one of the old masters. Rendered in vivid detail, these works of art focus the mind and imagination on one aspect of Christ's life (very often the crucifixion), but lack the context and completeness to be anything more than one piece of the whole."

Michael Elliott (Movie Parables) says, "Mel Gibson is an accomplished filmmaker—one with an obvious and established artistic vision. God bless him. There are minor points with which I might find disagreement. But regarding the overall thrust of the film—what Jesus Christ had to do to redeem us—I can find no fault."

Steven Isaac and Bob Smithouser (Plugged In) call it "a stirring, reverent and significant motion picture for believers and nonbelievers alike." They also quote Dr. James Dobson as naming it "among the most powerful and important [films] ever made."

Isaac and Smithouser encourage parents to take their teenagers to the film. "Many teens ride the coattails of their parents' faith, only to waver when pressures and temptations arrive. They need to make a conscious decision to own their faith. The Passion is the kind of 'fish or cut bait' movie that will challenge them to make a firm decision about what they believe and how they will live."

Phil Boatwright (Movie Reporter) says it is "justly rated R" for its violent content. "But Gibson wisely cuts to past moments in Christ's life to help us cope with the brutality. The Passion … is meant to shock, unnerve and clarify the ordeal of Christ's sacrifice. It is not a movie one sees, then goes out for pizza. Mel Gibson uses the medium of film as Michelangelo did with stone, chiseling away superficiality and carving out a cinematic masterpiece. This Passion stirs the soul."

Mainstream critics are divided over the film, a phenomenon that seems to accompany any artistic expression of the gospel. Here are a few revealing excerpts:

David Poland (The Hot Button): "I am not shy about movie violence. And, almost embarrassingly, I have to admit that Gibson's excesses left me feeling very little after a very short period of time. But it wasn't just the gore. It was the lack of real conviction. It is almost always a sign that a discussion is lost when one of the parties has to resort to yelling … and it is usually the person who is screaming who has lost. Gibson screams at the top of his lungs through 80% of this movie. Unfortunately, I feel like I have as much additional insight into Christ after seeing this film as I did about heroin abuse after seeing Pulp Fiction or into police work after seeing Lethal Weapon. And that ain't much."

Gene Seymour (Newsday): "Mel Gibson shows once again that he's skilled at depicting violence. But you'd be hard pressed to find evidence of 'tolerance, love and forgiveness' that the producer-director-co-writer insists he's trying to communicate." (Did Seymour miss the scene in which Jesus heals the ear of his attacker? Did he miss Jesus words of forgiveness for his persecutors? Did he miss the way Christ refrained from striking back at his enemies, dying so he could rise again?)

David Denby (The New Yorker): "The movie Gibson has made from his personal obsessions is a sickening death trip, a grimly unilluminating procession of treachery, beatings, blood, and agony."

Roger Ebert praised the film on his television show and in his Chicago Sun-Times review, and spoke respectfully and honorably about the gospel message.

So, at last, The Passion is playing to audiences. It will be interesting to see how it fares with audiences after the throngs of churchgoers have finished their theater buy-outs. It will also be interesting to see if the entirely deserving work of Caleb Deschanel and Jim Caveziel is remembered a year from now, at Oscar time.

Mainstream critics continue to scourge The Passion of The Christ with cruel and unusual punishment. One even called it "a Christian snuff film." While they try to convince the world that the movie is "religious porn"—too gross to merit any attention—the movie went on to become a box office champion par excellence, outrunning all predictions and stunning the movie industry.

In its first five days, The Passion earned $125.5 million dollars, the third most successful five-day opening in history. That's even better business than The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King and Star Wars—Episode One: The Phantom Menace.

Most of those early viewers were probably Christians and church groups. Now, through word-of-mouth, the film's popularity may increase.

It is exciting to see Christians engaging in discussion about meaning at the movies. Groups are gathering in churches to discuss the film. On Monday night, I joined author/radio personality/culture-watcher Dick Staub and Rabbi Daniel Lapin on the platform of Living Hope Community Church just north of Seattle to discuss and debate the merits of the film before attentive and participatory listeners, many of whom were not members of that church.

This trend offers us a picture of how Christians can participate in productive discourse with the larger moviegoing community … over any significant work of art. The Passion of The Christ is not the only film offering us this opportunity. I discuss some of these other films in an open letter to Christians at my website, Looking Closer. I have a few suggestions for churchgoers to consider, now that The Passion has their attention.

Meanwhile, more religious press critics—including Peter T. Chattaway of Christianity Today Movies—posted their reviews of The Passion this week.

Gerri Pare, David DiCerto and Anne Navarro (Catholic News Service) call the film "unflinching in its brutality and penetrating in its iconography of God's supreme love for humanity. The Passion … is a composite of the Passion narratives in the four Gospels embroidered with nonscriptural traditions as well as the imaginative inspiration of the filmmaker. The result is a deeply personal work of devotional art—a moving Stations of the Cross, so to speak."

But they, like other critics, note that the film's limited focus makes it challenging. "Gibson has, perhaps, muted Christ's teachings, making it difficult for viewers unfamiliar with the New Testament and the era's historical milieu to contextualize the circumstances leading up to Jesus' arrest. And though, for Christians, the Passion is the central event in the history of salvation, the 'how' of Christ's death is lingered on at the expense of the 'why?'"

"Where the film stumbles in terms of historical detail it excels as a work of art," says Michael Leary (The Matthews House Project). Leary sees a remarkable parallel between the method of the filmmaker and the method of Christ the teacher: "To watch the film having never read the Gospels would be like reading C. S. Lewis' Till We Have Faces with no knowledge of classical mythology, or Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury having never spent any time in the Deep South. It would be the experience of something totally foreign, the shocking clarity of its images powerful not because they make sense but because one would be sure that somehow, in some grander story, they do make a great deal of sense. In a strange parallel, this is the same experience many had as they sat and listened to the teachings of Jesus. His parables cast new visions of society and history veiled in a mysterious sort of poetry, one profoundly intelligible to those with the right set of keys but still scandalously alluring to those without."

Dennis Haack (Ransom Fellowship) affirms that, from a devout believer's perspective, the film is a transforming experience. "The Passion is not difficult to watch because it is about Jesus' death, but because of the way Gibson has chosen to make the film. Never again will I be able to mention the death of my Lord without flinching inside. Nor will I be able take the bread and wine of the sacrament without a sense of dread for the cost of my redemption." He offers questions for post-viewing discussion as well.

I get the feeling that Mike Parker (TrueTunes) was a bit stunned by the film. "[It is] a stunning motion picture, in every sense of the word. Stunning in its daring use of dead languages and simple subtitles. Stunning in its stark, haunting soundtrack. Stunning in its utter brutality. Stunning in its use of darkness and light. By the end of the film I sat quietly; motionless; stunned."

Meanwhile, in a Time article called "Holy Hypocrisies," Richard Corliss blew the whistle on the obviously two-faced attacks on The Passion in the mainstream press. He writes:

Liberals … are sympathetic to a controversial work of pop culture, we invoke the artist's right to create in a climate of total freedom, whatever feelings of outrage the work may stoke among the ignorati. (That is: other people.) When we disapprove, we talk about his responsibility to the sensitivities and sensibilities of good people. (That is: us.) So, in the aesthetico-religious sphere, we defend Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ … and Kevin Smith's Dogma.

But how do these same critics treat The Passion of The Christ, a film that interprets Christ's final hours faithfully to the way Christians understand it? Corliss shakes his head over the hypocrisy, and highlights the obvious anti-Christian prejudice and lunacy of the responses offered by Andy Rooney, Christopher Hitchens, and others:

Leading the attack … Hitchens appropriated rhetorical tactics employed by both political fringes. Like some segments of the Christian right when Last Temptation and Dogma came out, he called for a boycott of a film he apparently had not seen. And he exhumed that favorite old pejorative of the Bolsheviks, fascist: he said the movie is 'quite distinctly fascist in intention,' adding that it is 'an incitement to sadomasochism, in the less attractive sense of the word.' Hitchens let viewers wonder for a moment which kind he preferred, then clarified his definition: the film, he insisted, is 'an appeal to the gay Christian sadomasochistic niche market.' That must explain the movie's $23 million opening day. Pretty big niche.

Finally, in a National Catholic Register story titled "Will Mel Evangelize Evangelicals?", author Steven D. Greydanus notes the Catholic imagery that runs throughout the film: "Protestants have attracted much attention in recent weeks by trumpeting their hopes that Mel Gibson's The Passion of The Christ will prove a great evangelistic tool.

What relatively few have noticed is the extent to which these groups are themselves being evangelized." Greydanus goes on to detail the film's Catholic imagery, which closely follows "the 14 Stations of the Cross and the five sorrowful mysteries of the rosary. Every mystery and every station is there, in order—including one event drawn entirely from tradition, St. Veronica wiping the Lord's face." He concludes by saying, "Perhaps Catholics should make a point of going with their Protestant friends—and then pointing out what their friends aren't hearing about the film in their own churches."

This success continued to astound and bewilder mainstream critics of the film, many of whom continued launching uncharacteristically reactionary and angry protests.

"I can't recall a movie that has depicted torture in such lavish, fetishistic and excruciating detail as … The Passion," says Brian D. Johnson (Maclean's). "What's most astonishing about [the movie] is that it's so luridly secular. Gibson has made a movie about flesh, not spirit—flesh that's kicked, beaten, flayed, punctured and lacerated for what seems like an eternity. I'm not sure Jews ought to feel offended … but Christians should. Anyone stepping into this movie from another planet, knowing nothing about Christianity, would assume it's a barbaric cult of blood sacrifice."

(Note: Brian D. Johnson is the same critic who described David Cronenberg's Crash, an explicit and shocking film about people who like to have sex in the midst of car crashes, as "exquisitely composed but emotionally impenetrable … brilliant and severely beautiful. It works on the mind and the eye, leaving the viewer shocked, haunted and bewildered—wondering what on earth to feel, which is perhaps the whole point of the exercise." When offended by The Passion, his put-down is to call it "luridly secular"?)

Similarly, Jonathan Rosenbaum (Chicago Reader) writes, "Gibson stresses only cruelty and suffering, complete with slow motion and masochistic point-of-view shots. The charges of anti-Semitism and homophobia being hurled at the movie seem too narrow; its general disgust for humanity is so unrelenting that the military-sounding drums at the end seem to be welcoming the apocalypse. If I were a Christian, I'd be appalled to have this primitive and pornographic bloodbath presume to speak for me."

In The Washington Post, Tom Shales refers to anti-Semitism as "the Big Lie." Indeed, using Christ's death as an excuse to be hateful and violent toward the Jews is indeed a grievous sin. But Shales then accuses Gibson of "recycling" the Lie and making money off of it. (Since when has making a profit from your work become a sin?) Shales concludes with his most presumptuous and revealing remark yet: "Surely [Gibson's] parking space in Hell has already been reserved."

It seems to me that with each passing day, more and more film critics are publishing opinions on the film that will, eventually, show them up as reactionaries when it comes to religious art. They are so troubled by the intensity and focus of this work that they reveal a great deal of ignorance about Christianity and the way it has been represented in art throughout history. Many—perhaps even most—are showing themselves far more guilty of discrimination and prejudice than the filmmaker they seek to condemn. If they are so willing to assume that Gibson is anti-Semitic, in spite of his claims to the contrary, in spite of the way in which Gibson's film incriminates those who despise Jews, then why have they remained silent, or even praised other films that exhibit obvious, undeniable prejudice against Catholics and Christians? Their two-faced behavior is almost laughable.

Strangely enough, The Passion has found a staunch defender in the notorious Web rebel, champion film geek, and reigning king of unedited and unspellchecked reviews—Harry Knowles at Ain't It Cool News. He writes,

When I saw the film all the comments about the film being a 'Jew bashing' spectacle went away for me, because the message I saw being conveyed could not have been further from the mark. To me, The Passion … is an astonishingly powerful work of cinema that's overwhelming purpose is to show the lengths of personal hell one could endure without losing one's purpose or love for one's fellow human beings. It wasn't for exploitation or out of [Gibson's] own perverse sense of bloodlust. To me, that violence was to illustrate in excruciating detail the lengths one could go through and suffer through without raising a hand to defend ones' self, to not cry for revenge, to not curse those that torment you. That in your dying moments you pray for those that would see you dead, not hurl a curse upon them. I find the film an amazing tribute to pacifism.

Some fought back against those who condemn the film. Francis J. Beckwith (American Spectator) argues that the critical backlash is prompted by the fact that the film is about Christianity, not because of any real issues with prejudice or violence. He proposes that, if the movie were replaced by something morally reprehensible, "its producer and writer would likely have received a sizable grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities. And those condemning this film would be labeled by liberal pundits, the New York Times editorial board, and NPR commentators as intolerant, narrow-minded censors, and bigots who can't see past their religious prejudices and ingrained homophobia."

New York Times columnist David Brooks argues that, "While religious dogmatism is always a danger, it is less of a problem for us today than the soft-core spirituality that is its opposite. As any tour around the TV dial will make abundantly clear, we do not live in Mel Gibson's fire-and-brimstone universe. Instead, we live in a psychobabble nation. We've got more to fear from the easygoing narcissism that is so much part of the atmosphere nobody even thinks to protest or get angry about it."

Just as some Christians eagerly interpreted The Lord of the Rings as an allegory about the United States versus threats in the Middle East, actor Michael Moriarty at Enter Stage Right similarly interprets The Passion as Mel Gibson's response to the September 11 terrorist attacks on America. "Gibson … has struck more forcefully at the heart of al-Qaida's spiritual armory than the American ground troops who drove Saddam Hussein into a rathole," he writes. "Could there be a non-violent response to our enemy's ultimate goal? There is now. The fallout from this metaphysical bomb will be endless."

Ted Baehr (Movieguide) points to The Passion's box office success and declares those dollar amounts as proof positive of God's blessing. "These facts demonstrate, once again, that God rewards those in our culture who follow Him. By making more movies with strong Christian content … the entertainment industry can reap significant benefits."

So if a film wins a huge success at the box office, God is blessing the filmmakers? If so, God must have been overjoyed with Bad Boys 2 on its opening weekend, and he must have thought The Matrix Reloaded was a sanctified event. No, the day we start equating box office success with God's blessing is a dark day indeed.

Better to see what kind of influence it has on our own hearts instead of others' bank accounts. Better to focus on the film's imagery and discuss it as art instead of as a commodity or as an evangelical "tool."

Russell Hittinger and Elizabeth Lev (First Things) do just that. In treating the film as a work of art, they conclude that it is "worthy to be mentioned with … classics of Christian culture." They proceed to vigorously explore the connections between the film's imagery and traditions in cross-centered art. "Gibson says that he set out to 'transcend language with the message through an image.' Chances are that even the film industry, skeptical and skittish about the project, will have to recognize his artistic triumph. How its millions of viewers will reckon with the movie is another story. We think that it will induce humility rather than triumphalism."

Viewers would be wise to compare and contrast this Passion with other treatments of Christ's life. To further explore how Jesus has been illustrated by filmmakers, check out Mike Hertenstein's Epic Survey of Jesus Movies at Flickerings.

Michael Leary (The Matthews House Project) points out that "there are a number of films that ask much different questions about Jesus than Gibson does. The Life of Brian, Jesus Christ Superstar, and The Last Temptation of Christ just to name an important few. But there is also the rare film like Jesus of Montreal that does such a great job of describing Christ's odd social significance that has mostly flown under the radar of the mainstream Christian audience over the decades. Not only are there other good Jesus films out there, but at the risk of sounding heretical, there may even be a few that are better than the one Gibson has offered us. … To be absolutely blunt, The Passion of The Christ is not the best film I will see this year."

You should also check out the collection of fascinating, often bewildered, responses to the film's success archived at Dick Staub's CultureWatch. The Passion is on course to become the highest-grossing R-rated film ever.

Michael Medved assures us that the box office numbers will ensure the production of other religious-themed films. "The already visible eagerness to create additional projects that appeal to the nation's deep commitment to its Judeo-Christian heritage suggest that The Passion will be remembered as an historic turning point, rather than a freakish anomaly or an isolated experiment. The movie has helped Hollywood discover not just a new formula, but also a new audience."

At GetReligion.net, Terry Mattingly ponders the film's Oscar chances, and adds, "I think Mel Gibson could have made a film that hit just as hard, without becoming such a festival of violence. I know what Gibson was trying to do with this film (stations of the cross for a media-soaked age), but I still question the theological balance of 15 minutes of flogging and 90 seconds of the Resurrection."

He also sends us to this challenging analysis of the film by Mark Holmberg, who writes, "Ultimately, this really isn't a movie. It's more of a stripped-down attempt to yank viewers back to those historic hours in order to do some heart surgery. How you come out of it likely will depend on how you go in. If you're hoping to be entertained, you won't be. If you're seeking to be offended, you will be. If you're looking for theological flaws, you'll find them. If you see Jesus as just a man or a fable, you may not be moved at all, except by anger. If you've had an easy life, it may be easy to forget what you see. But if you've been knocked to your knees by life, if you hunger for something more, or if you're already tenderized to the message, this can be a vital experience."

Edward Rothstein (The New York Times) makes an interesting comparison, juxtaposing Mel Gibson's The Passion with "The St. Matthew Passion" by Johann Sebastian Bach! Rothstein says, "After seeing Mr. Gibson's Passion … I listened to Bach's 'St. Matthew Passion' with amazement, awe and relief. It should probably be prescribed as a remedy for every viewer of the film. Bach … mollifies the accusations of deicide by emphasizing the guilt of all of us — which is, presumably, the theological point. With Jesus being reduced to a pained being, as he is in the movie, his final triumph is as impersonal as his suffering. This is where Bach turns Gospel into musical glory … there is no boundary between the Passion story, the soul's struggles, and daily life. Bach's music moves between the public world of faith and its interior trials, between orthodox doctrine and its human significance. Mr. Gibson, I imagine, would be made nervous by Bach."

Meanwhile, one church landed in deep trouble when The Passion was shown to the youth group. In Gary, Indiana, Reverend Brent Endris of the Abundant Life Tabernacle Church said that a youth pastor brought a bootlegged copy of the movie to him at church so he could review it. The Indianapolis Star reports that the youth group was allowed to view about half of the movie. (The report's does not indicate who was responsible for this decision.) The film proved too much for some young viewers, one of whom went home with stomach pains. "A 12-year-old can't process the brutality," one mother responded. "That's why it's R-rated. I heard it was not Mel Gibson's intention for children to see it."

Elsewhere, the Chicago Tribune is under fire from readers for printing a lot of negative press about the film without any opinions representative of the many who have applauded Gibson's achievement. Tribune public editor Don Wycliff responds, and investigates to see if there has been any violence against Jews since the film opened. He finds that, indeed, there has been violence. "Vandals defaced a synagogue with swastikas, profane messages and the sentence, 'Jews must die.' The next day, members of the synagogue and those from several Christian congregations came together to clean away the mess. Maybe Mel hasn't quite set everything back with his movie."

A poll from the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews found that only 1.7 percent of the Christians participating in the poll believe that the Jews are responsible for the death of Jesus.

Examining the negative media response to the film, Andrew Coffin (World) says, "The Passion of The Christ is not equivalent to Scripture, but strong evidence suggests that it is the gospel message, presented imperfectly but faithfully in Mr. Gibson's film, that has rubbed many critics the wrong way." He goes on to show how the difference between critics' reaction to The Passion and their reaction to television's Judas emphasizes mainstream ideas and misconceptions about Christ.

Frederica Mathewes-Green (Books and Culture), meanwhile, voices some problems that she has with Mel Gibson's decision to focus on the violence done against Christ.

Perhaps now would be a good time for Christian viewers to demonstrate that they are excited about The Passion because it is about Jesus, not because it is a Mel Gibson film. We can to that by expanding the discussion to cover other movies of Jesus' life that highlight other aspects of his ministry.

Roger Ebert, meanwhile, reviews what he considers "one of the most effective films on a religious theme I have ever seen." He's referring to The Gospel According to St. Matthew, a 1962 film by Pier Paolo Pasolini. "[It] tells the life of Christ as if a documentarian on a low budget had been following him from birth."

He adds, "Those who found Gibson's depiction of [Jews] as anti-Semitic may appreciate Pasolini's decision to film the debates mostly in long shot, and to show the priests not as angry and spiteful, but as learned and ponderous, dealing soberly with heresy."

Ebert concludes, "To see the film a few weeks after seeing Gibson's is to understand that there is no single version of his story. Gibson sees Christ's suffering as the overwhelming fact of his life, and his film contains very little of Christ's teachings. Pasolini thought the teachings were the central story."

While Hollywood is watching the money, Christian film reviewers and writers are still musing about what Gibson has accomplished.

In Leadership (a Christianity Today sister publication), Brian McLaren, pastor of Cedar Ridge Community Church in metro Washington, D.C., protests what he sees as the exaggeration of the movie's importance. He says, "No doubt, Mel G's film will be powerful and will help many—millions, I hope—for it is a sincere labor of love about the ultimate labor of love. But it's not the greatest outreach opportunity in 2,000 years, at least, not for the emerging culture. I'll tell you what is.

"Actually, I won't, because there isn't one thing. Rather, there are uncountable great outreach opportunities. For example, there are millions of people, precious to God, dying of AIDS. And their orphans too. Do you want the emerging culture to sit up and take notice? Don't show them another movie, however great it is. Show them Christians around the world (starting with those who have been given the most: us) who care and give and love and move to serve."

Rick Warren, pastor of Saddleback Community Church in Lake Forest, California, replies, defending the evangelistic influence of The Passion: "Nothing is more magnetic than the power of the cross. So I knew a huge wave—a spiritual tsunami—would hit when the film debuted on February 25, and we began praying and preparing to surf it. It is true that The Passion has been 'hyped' by some ministries in styles and methods that are dated. But it takes all kinds of approaches to reach all kinds of people, and not all Americans are alike."

Dick Staub (Culture Watch) lists lessons he believes the film's success has taught us: "The lessons we learn from the Passion of Christ efforts are mixed. (1) It proves the power of popular culture. (2) It proves popular culture is a theological location. (3) The great controversy reveals our culture's biblical and spiritual illiteracy. (4) It reminds us that ART is the route to cultural influence. (5) It reminds us that evangelicals are clueless about art. (6) Evangelicals are reductionists about evangelism."

He goes on to explain each lesson and offers three steps on what Christians should do now that The Passion's press has peaked.

The Passion's triumph was assisted by the fact that none of the new films opening had much positive buzz.

"I think it actually is one of the most brilliant visual storytelling movies I've seen since the talkies—as far as telling a story via pictures," he says. "So much so that when I was watching this movie, I turned to a friend and said, 'This is such a Herculean leap of Mel Gibson's talent. I think divine intervention might be part of it.' I cannot believe that Mel Gibson directed it. Not personally Mel Gibson—I mean, Braveheart was great. I mean, I can't believe any actor made that movie. This is like the most visual movie by an actor since Charles Laughton made The Night of the Hunter. No, this is 15 times more visual than that. It has the power of a silent movie."

Caution: The rest of the interview includes profanity.

Bart recounts the Times' early declaration that The Passion was "an outrage and threat to social harmony."

He reminds us how the paper highlighted "the predictions of unnamed power brokers in Hollywood that Gibson would be blackballed by the film community, his career ruined."

He responds that readers deserve a major "correction" from the paper. "Despite the fact that Frank Rich compared it to 'a porn movie,' by the end of its run The Passion could rank second only to Titanic as the highest-grossing movie ever made. Further, there have been no signs of anti-Semitic outbreaks tied to the film's release—not even in places like France and Argentina. As for Gibson, there's no indication that his viability as an actor or filmmaker has been compromised. The Passion [is] a movie, not a political tract. It represents Gibson's vision, not his rhetoric. As such, it deserves to be judged as art, not prejudged as ideology."

Hear hear. And let's not stop at The New York Times. As years go by, people will look back at what the majority of the critical elite in America had to say upon the release of Gibson's film and shake their heads. The Passion made most critics blather on like fools and forget their responsibility—to bring their readers into a deeper appreciation of art and to help draw distinctions between excellence, mediocrity, and trash. Most critics who typically exhibit discernment and vision in examining art proved themselves susceptible to paranoia, fear, prejudice, and hysteria in this case.

The Passion, while flawed, was not propaganda, nor was it politically motivated or aimed at humiliating Jews. It was one man's expression of deep religious conviction through an arresting and excruciating confrontation with the gory and mysterious details of Christ's death. How telling that those who condemned it for being agenda-driven could not agree on the nature of that agenda; Gibson's work was too multi-layered to be so easily dismissed. He focused on one powerful chapter from the greatest story ever told, manifested with skill and determination. The Passion may not be the best artistic portrayal of Christ ever made. And as a film, it may lack subtlety or err on the side of excess. But it reflects myriad truths and brings to mind a world of essential questions. They're the questions moviegoers will still be revisiting in ten, twenty, fifty years, when many of this year's other critical favorites (The Girl Next Door?!) are gathering dust on the shelves of the local Blockbuster.

Copyright © 2004 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

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