The Catholic New World asked several people—a theology professor, a biblical expert and a Catholic film reviewer—to watch Mel Gibson’s interpretation of the Gospels, “The Passion of the Christ.” These are their comments. Cardinal George also writes about the movie in his column on Page 3. The review by the film office of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops will not be available until after press time. It will appear in a subsequent edition.

How simply the Creed states it: “He was crucified under Pontius Pilate, suffered, died and was buried.” Perhaps the very laconicism of that description—recited week after week by Sunday worshippers—encourages an abstract, somewhat detached appreciation of Christ’s passion. I would wager that no one who sees Mel Gibson’s new film about the last 12 hours of Jesus’ life will ever again think of the sufferings of the Lord in such a way.

The Passion of the Christ unrelentingly presses our faces up against the gruesome reality of Jesus’ torture and execution. We are spared nothing: beatings, spittings, whippings, the sounds of crunching bones, the piercing of flesh. The most unforgettably brutal scene—at least for me—was the nearly 10-minute long depiction of the scourging at the pillar. In the crowded theater where I took in the film, people audibly gasped and wept during that scene, and many simply turned away, unable to bear it.

But for all of its explicit violence, “The Passion of the Christ” is not finally about what was suffered, but rather who did the suffering.

The movie opens in a spooky, moon-lit Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prays to his Father and endures the taunts of the devil (eerily embodied by an androgynous actress). She tells him that no man could ever bear the sins of the world, and she then sends a slithering snake in his direction. In the first of many shocking moments, Jesus, full of resolve, stomps the head of the serpent, just as the temple guards come to arrest him. The implication is clear: This is not a mere human being, but the God-man capable of both assuming and conquering sin.

This robustly orthodox Christology prevents the film from devolving simply into an orgy of violence done to an innocent man and allows it to speak the mystery of redemption.

One of the most affecting features of “The Passion of the Christ” is the clear connection between Jesus and his mother Mary (beautifully played by Maia Morgenstern). From the beginning of her son’s ordeal, Mary understands and says “Amen.” Then, in scene after scene, we are compelled to watch the horror through her eyes and, by implication, with her spiritual comprehension. On Calvary, Mary kisses the crucified feet of Jesus and her own face is smeared with his blood, signaling her participation in his salvific suffering.

And at the very end of the film, Mary cradles the body of her dead son while gazing intently at the camera and extending her hand toward the viewer, as if to offer us his sacrifice. Throughout, her experience is the interpretive lens through which we properly take in what is happening.

I would strongly urge people to see this intense and moving film. I cannot think of a more powerful display of God’s willingness to go even to the limits of godforsakenness in order to find us.

Barron is professor of systematic theology at Mundelein

Seminary/University of St. Mary of the Lake.

By Father Don Senior, CP

My first reaction after seeing “The Passion of the Christ” was a kind of letdown. It is, after all, a film. (A few of my fellow viewers at the preview had buckets of popcorn and soft drinks in case I forgot where I was). An artistic film, certainly. Beautifully photographed in muted colors, with impressive settings and costuming that far surpass most Hollywood efforts at biblical epics. The acting was well done, too. For once, Jesus didn’t look like a Breck shampoo ad and the other characters appear as one might imagine a first century roster of Jews and Romans to be.

But I confess I was not overwhelmed and felt an emotional distance from it. There were moments when I could feel my emotions welling up. The film does a particularly good job with flashbacks to key scenes in Jesus’ life: growing up in his Nazareth home, the Sermon on the Mount, forgiving the woman caught in adultery (whom the film incorrectly identifies with Mary Magdalene), and, especially, the Last Supper. These give context to why Jesus is suffering and what his overall message was.

But some things in the film kept distracting me from being totally immersed in it.

For one, I discovered that, contrary to claims, it does not hew literally to Gospel accounts. While it selects scenes from the four Gospels, it also lets its imagination flow freely. For example, the mother of Jesus is in virtually every scene, even encountering Peter after his denials and meeting Pilate’s wife. A poignant device, no doubt, but not based on the Gospels. Many of Jesus’ lines and those of the other characters either freely recast the words of the Gospels or simply add material not found in any of the Gospels.

I have no objection to this—it is the kind of imaginative work of piety that has happened throughout Christian history. But why the claim made by Gibson himself and so many enthusiastic Christian viewers that this is a literal rendering?

Secondly, the film is terribly and often gratuitously violent. I understand that dwelling on the physical sufferings of Jesus is meant to show the extent of Christ’s love for us (the opening scene has a quote from Isaiah 53 that I think is the key to the whole film: “He suffered for our iniquities. …”). And no doubt Roman scourging and the act of crucifixion were brutal beyond words. But the film forces the audience to watch grotesque violence with streams of blood for what seems an endless amount of time. And many of the violent scenes are not found in the Gospels (e.g., a crow pecks out the eyes of the criminal crucified with Jesus just after he mocks Jesus—ironically following Jesus’ own plea that God forgive his executioners).

Why, we might ask, are the Gospels themselves so reticent about describing the physical sufferings of Jesus? In a world so desensitized to violence, do we really need this in order to know the extent of God’s love for us? Does such repulsive violence help or hinder the viewer from thinking about the deeper spiritual meaning of the Passion?

Before enthusiastically endorsing this film and urging families to watch it, I hope religious leaders will think about the impact of being exposed to such vivid and terrible violence.

Finally, is the film anti-Semitic? I don’t think that was the intent of the filmmaker. But I do worry about unintended side effects. The film portrays the Jewish religious leaders as one dimensional—relentless and cruel and obviously of bad faith. When Nicodemus raises his voice to protest the proceedings, he is thrown out with contempt. Pilate is no prize either but at least he wrestles with his decision.

Why didn’t the film, for example, pick up on the Gospel portrayal of Caiaphas who arrives at his decision because of expediency, to protect the Jewish people from Roman retaliation? The leaders’ unyielding hatred of Jesus is never explained in this film. Lurking behind them is a chilling demonic figure that appears in several scenes. Most Christians, I believe, will not interpret this film in an anti-Semitic manner. But for some already inclined to such toxic prejudice, these stereotyped images will be fuel for the fire. Maybe a filmmaker doesn’t have to worry about misinterpretation by his viewers, but given this subject matter and the world we live in, a little more care would really have helped.

Senior, a Passionist, is a renowned biblical scholar who serves on the Pontifical Biblical Commission. He is general editor for the Catholic Study Bible (Oxford University Press) and president of Catholic Theological Union.

By Sister Rose Pacatte, FSP

Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” is a movie I can still see in my mind’s eye. The film’s images and symbols will surely influence my spirituality and understanding of Jesus’ life for years to come. Some images are to me fine art; others are horrific.

The most treasured impression is that of the character of Mary. Played by Maia Morgenstern, this Mary is the most credible Madonna I have ever encountered. She is warm, loving, strong and maternal—a nurturer. She has a sense of humor. She looks like she has lived a life close to the earth and lived it to the full and with joy. The flashbacks to her life with Jesus as a child and youth touched me deeply. This is the Mary my faith imagination has longed for.

I found the personification of evil in the form of a woman, played by the ethereal Rosalinda Celentano, troubling. Gibson has given this character a deep throaty voice so that evil’s gender may seem ambiguous. Yet to me, evil is a woman here. I would have wished that this film could have moved away from this overused stereotype for evil.

St. Thomas Aquinas once wrote: “He who receives, receives according to the mode of the one receiving.” The same can be said for our understanding of books, movies, and even homilies. Despite the intention of the filmmaker, people interpret movies according to their particular lens.

If one knows the Gospels and has been taught tolerance, then “The Passion of the Christ” may be inspiring. We know the story and do attribute blame. Gibson has stated that he had no intention of making an anti-Semitic film. However, I was troubled at how brutally the Jewish guards treated Jesus in the Garden, for example. No Gospel account describes such viciousness—though the Gospels do say the guards came with clubs and spears. This is the filmmaker’s interpretation. If people view the film on a superficial level, how will they interpret this beginning of a travail of sorrow and cruelty?

In the film, Pontius Pilate is a conflicted character who may be perceived as being sympathetic to Jesus when instead he was a morally weak government official. This distinction, as well as the contrast between the roles of the Jews and the Romans in these events, might have been made clearer by the filmmaker out of respect for historical truth about the Roman occupation of Palestine.

Some may expect the film to be a formulaic Biblical film; but from the opening scenes my conviction is that this film actually belongs to the horror genre.

Horror is not a frivolous genre. Horror films are tales about personal chaos, the lack of control over one’s life and environment. Horror films can be, for some, a way to confront loss and fear and gain a sense of power over turmoil and madness.

Gibson uses cinematic horror devices in the film to show human and natural danger and chaos. These all fit the pattern of a horror film, and they can shock the viewer. The sequences of scourging are dramatic, brutal, relentless and graphic. We are able to understand Jesus’ suffering after one or two minutes of the bloody beating by the Romans; we don’t need more to comprehend it. Inspiration was mitigated by the unending torture.

It is important to remember that we are Christians because of the resurrection, not because of his passion or his suffering. In flashbacks we get a sense of Jesus’ public life, and though we know Jesus rises from the dead. I wish it could have created a historical and theological context so that the resurrection could have been a stronger culmination. Gibson said that it was not his job to tell the whole story. It is left to us to understand and contemplate our heritage of faith and to share it with those around us.

Pauline Sister Rose Pacatte is a film critic for St. Anthony Messenger magazine and co-author of “Lights, Camera, Faith: A Movie Lover’s Guide to Scripture.”