Blame the Gospels? A theologian responds.

Rabbi Irving Greenberg offers not only a penetrating critique of The Passion of the Christ but, more importantly, a respectful but strong challenge to Christian interpretation of the New Testament.

I concur with many of Rabbi Greenberg's observations about the film. As he notes, it does not hew strictly to the Gospel accounts, despite what much of the promotional materials and some over-enthusiastic Christian commentators claim. From start to finish, The Passion of the Christ includes many scenes not found in any of the Gospels and puts words on the lips of Jesus and other characters in the drama that have no basis in the Scriptures.

Rabbi Greenberg is correct in describing Gibson's film as more of a gripping "Passion play" than a literal rendering of the Gospel accounts. I am not criticizing the filmmakers or their apologists for producing an artistic interpretation of the Passion of Jesus by using extensive embellishment of the Gospel story and by selecting scenes from all four accounts to form a new story. That has been done by playwrights, artists, musicians, and preachers for centuries. What I do object to is giving the film an authority it cannot claim by promoting it is as a scrupulously faithful rendition of the Gospel texts--especially when such statements come from Christian leaders who should know better.

Rabbi Greenberg's major concern is that the film's embellishments "heighten the hatefulness of the Jews," amplifying the anti-Jewish dimensions already present in the New Testament, and thereby undermining sixty years of efforts at mutual respect and understanding between Jews and Christians. He laments the fact that the U.S. bishops have not explicitly condemned the film even though it appears to violate their own norms for presentations of the Passion of Jesus. In remaining silent they are complicit in the film's destructive potential.

I share Rabbi Greenberg's concerns, but not with the same intensity. I do not believe that the bishops' collective "silence" about the film should be interpreted as condoning its potential negative impact. As Rabbi Greenberg notes, many Christians (including some bishops) experience The Passion of the Christ in a way that is completely different from that of other Christian and many Jewish viewers looking at the same film. Christians who love the film seem to take their cue from the words of Isaiah that appear on the screen in the opening scene: "He bore our infirmities; he was crushed for our iniquities." For them, everything that follows in Gibson's film is a dramatization of that conviction: Jesus, the Son of God, suffered for us and that suffering was an expression of God's love and forgiveness for us. Therefore, the more terrible the suffering of Jesus the more he expressed his love. For Christian viewers who leave the theater in tears and silence, this is the overwhelming experience that eclipses everything else about the film and blunts any critical judgment about its fidelity to the Gospel accounts or its subtle anti-Semitic portrayals of Jesus' opponents.

Another complicating factor, as Rabbi Greenberg astutely notes, is that in some quarters reaction to this film has become part of the so-called culture wars, both inside and outside the church. Some avid supporters of the film have broad-brushed all opposition to it as a secularist reaction. Some strong opponents of the film have accused its admirers of turning back the clock on biblical scholarship and the reforms of Vatican II.

In such a polarized atmosphere, I cannot imagine how long or how difficult it would be to get the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) to be of one mind about the film. Additionally, even if the bishops were able to agree, I am not sure about the propriety of having the collective voice of the American bishops condemn a Hollywood film (the film got enough free publicity as it is). I think the bishops' decision to distribute nationwide a printed compendium of strong and consistent Catholic teaching condemning anti-Semitism, including guidelines for interpretation of the Passion, is an appropriate and serious response. In any case, I hope and pray that the fact the American bishops have not collectively and explicitly condemned Gibson's film will not be made the test of the church's sincerity about confronting the problem of Christian anti-Semitism.

Nevertheless, I, too, am saddened at the missed opportunity here, especially in a film that, as Rabbi Greenberg points out, will be seen by millions of viewers. I believe that the artistic gifts of Gibson and his associates could have created a more powerful rendition of the Passion story if they had been careful not to stereotype the Jewish protagonists in the story. The producers of the film claim that they wanted to tell the story in such a way that it is clear that all of us as sinners were guilty, not just some of Jesus' contemporaries. By portraying the high priest and his associates as so relentless in their hatred of Jesus, however, I think Gibson's project becomes part of the problem rather than part of the solution.

But the more fundamental concerns raised by Rabbi Greenberg go beyond a reaction to Gibson's film. He believes the film's widespread impact poses a problem not just related to anti-Semitism but one that challenges Christian theology as well. The first challenge is that the film's anti-Semitic potential is part of a deeper problem with the New Testament itself. "The Gospels themselves," he notes, "literally understood, generate hatred (and worse) vis-a-vis Jews, living and dead." Rabbi Greenberg concedes that the modern church has tried to address the problem of anti-Semitism but has hesitated to tackle directly the anti-Jewish or anti-Semitic dimensions of the New Testament itself, thereby enabling interpretations such as Gibson's film to appeal to the New Testament for validation. If the bishops and other Christian leaders do not now "confront the New Testament" they "stand convicted of continuing the evils of the past."

These are strong words, even as they are spoken with respect. Rabbi Greenberg's concerns about the anti-Semitic impact of the Gospels probe to the heart of Christianity and require a serious response. When he speaks of a "literal" understanding of the Gospels, he means, I believe, reading the Gospels without awareness of their historical context or their literary form. The Gospel accounts were composed in the last quarter of the first century when there was growing tension between the emerging Christian church, which was beginning to move in a different direction from its exclusively Jewish-Christian origins, and the emerging post-70 AD Jewish community that was also forced to redefine itself in the wake of the catastrophe of the Roman destruction of the temple. The Gospels' portrayal of the Jewish leaders reflects therefore not only the disputes among Jesus and some of his contemporaries but the later tensions between the communities at the time the Gospels were being composed. Likewise, the Gospels, though rooted in historical tradition, are not, as Rabbi Greenberg correctly notes, "eyewitness accounts" but interpretations of history fueled by profound theological convictions and religious experience.

Is it accurate to say that the church has avoided coming to grips with this problematic aspect of the New Testament? On the contrary, the call to use these fundamental insights of modern biblical scholarship has been a consistent and explicit emphasis of official Catholic teaching on both the local and the international levels over the past half century, particularly because of the church's concern about Christian anti-Semitism. The booklet just published by the USCCB, The Bible, the Jews, and the Death of Jesus, which was timed to the release of the Gibson film and distributed to parishes across the country, includes 150 pages of official documents, many of which grapple directly with the interpretation of the New Testament and its portrayal of the Jews. None could be more explicit than the 1988 U.S. bishops' guidelines, Criteria for the Evaluation of Dramatizations of the Passion: "Often what we have come to know from biblical scholarship or historical studies will place in doubt a more literalist reading of the biblical text." The substantial 2002 statement of the Pontifical Biblical Commission on this issue, The Jewish People and Their Sacred Scriptures in the Christian Bible, is no less pointed: "To avoid mistakes of this kind [that is, using the Gospels as a pretext for anti-Jewish sentiment], it must be kept in mind that the New Testament polemical texts, even those expressed in general terms, have to do with concrete historical contexts and are never meant to be applied to Jews of all times and places merely because they are Jews. The tendency to speak in general terms, to accentuate the adversaries' negative side, and to pass over the positive in silence, failure to consider their motivations and their ultimate good faith, these are characteristics of all polemical language throughout antiquity, and are no less evident in Judaism and primitive Christianity against all kinds of dissidents."

Admittedly, most Catholics would not be directly aware of these policy statements, but this official teaching has worked its way deeply into Catholic religious education on all levels. On this point I have to say that the Catholic community has not been silent, and perhaps Rabbi Greenberg's anguish over the current debate carries his accusations against the bishops too far. Maybe the challenge is not best framed as obliging Christian leaders to "confront" or correct the New Testament because, for example, a literal reading of the Gospels makes them "primary sources of anti-Semitism." For Christians, the New Testament is a sacred and inspired text, just as observant Jews consider their Scriptures to be sacred and inspired. The language of "confrontation" and rejection does not easily fit here. Are there difficult polemical or violent texts in our Scriptures, even so-called texts of terror that cry out for careful interpretation? Yes, without doubt, just as there are for Judaism and other religious traditions, as Rabbi Greenberg notes. But even these difficult New Testament texts must be approached with respect, and be viewed in the light of the entire Bible and Christian teaching. We are not free to edit them out or simply condemn them as if they were the writings of a misinformed theologian or an ill-conceived church statement.

Traditional Catholic teaching about the Scriptures helps here, I believe. The Scriptures, we assert, are the word of God in human words. Both sides of the formula have to be respected. The Scriptures are the "word of God" in that they are inspired by the Holy Spirit, ultimately trace their truth to God, and are words of life for us as a Christian community. Therefore we reverence the Scriptures and assign them pride of place in our worship and teaching. But at the same time, the Scriptures are human words--written by human authors, in a particular time and place, and using literary styles and literary forms that were known and accepted in that culture and language. Therefore, the Scriptures require contextualization and careful interpretation as any other classical text does. Thus the proper responsibility of Catholic bishops in their official teaching role is not to "confront" or condemn problematic biblical passages but to encourage thoughtful and historically aware interpretation that does not fuel anti-Semitism or permit Christians to denigrate the Jewish people.

Rabbi Greenberg also brings a very thoughtful, even profound, challenge to Christian interpretation of the sufferings of Jesus. Does the strong focus on the sufferings of Jesus that Gibson's film promotes turn Christianity into a "faith focused on death"? Does an emphasis on "satisfaction theology" that portrays God as demanding the tortured death of his Son as payment for the debt of human sin overshadow the New Testament's affirmation of a God of love (while ironically some Christians, he notes, continue to caricature the God of the Old Testament as a "God of wrath")?

If Mel Gibson's film becomes the sole representation of Christian theology, then Rabbi Greenberg's concern could be valid. But surely (one hopes), despite the power of the media, things are not that bad. Christian theology (not unlike Jewish tradition) is diverse and manifold. Even though legions may see this film and be exposed to its implicit theology, the church speaks to hundreds of millions of Christians each week and over many years in its liturgies, its classrooms, and in its families. For Christians there are many different ways of trying to understand the mystery of Christ's death. Within the array of traditional Christian theologies, a brand of "satisfaction theology" which explains the Passion as a vengeful God demanding the tortured death of his Son as payment for sin is at best a minority report.

Starting with the Gospels themselves, the Christian interpretation of the death of Jesus moves in the more luminous direction that Rabbi Greenberg himself prefers. Mark's Gospel (similarly Matthew's) carefully notes that the ultimate reason for Jesus' death is the way he lived. His commitment to the poor and the marginalized, the priority he gave to alleviating human pain, his confrontation with injustice--these are the things that stoked opposition to Jesus and ultimately led to his death. Mark interprets Jesus' death as an act of service on behalf of others: "the Son of Man has come not to be served but to serve, to give his life in ransom for the many" (Mark 10:45). Luke portrays Jesus in the manner of the prophets of Israel, who at great price proclaimed justice, brought liberation to those oppressed, and reached across boundaries to those excluded: "Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day, I must be on my way because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem" (Luke 13:33). And John's Gospel also sees Jesus' death not as a grim harvest of pain to appease God's vengeance but as an act of loving friendship: "No greater love than this that one lay down one's life for a friend" (John 15:13).

The Gospels (in concert with the whole Bible) try to fit all of history under the umbrella of God's sovereign power, and therefore the Passion, too, is seen retrospectively as "God's will," although, even for Jesus, in a manner beyond human comprehension. Yet this does not reduce either the New Testament image of God or the meaning of Jesus' death to a gospel of death. Jesus is portrayed as committed to life. Out of the abundance of his own life rooted in God he heals those in pain and teaches the truth. The Gethsemane tradition, which is found in Mark, Matthew, and Luke and has a strong echo in John, presents Jesus as resisting and fearing death. He submits to death only because commitment to his God-given mission of life makes it unavoidable.

This type of Christology, as Rabbi Greenberg astutely notes, is much more life-giving and exemplary and much more in accord with the spirit of the New Testament than "satisfaction theology." Just as so many people were inspired to live more generous lives by the example of those firefighters and rescuers who gave their lives for others on 9/11, so, too, Christians should find the same gospel of life in the Passion of the one who is not only an exemplary human being but the revelation of God to us. Through the cross, Christians believe, Jesus' vital love signals the ultimate defeat of death and the triumph of life.

Finally, Rabbi Greenberg observes that Gibson's film portrays a Jesus who is so stoic and passive in the midst of his terrible sufferings as to seem less than human, while in the Gospels (at least in Matthew and Mark) Jesus is portrayed as breaking under his suffering and crying out in despair, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (in fact, the words of a great Jewish prayer, Psalm 22). Thus, Rabbi Greenberg concludes, the real lesson should be that no human should have to endure the cross of suffering. Here, too, I think Rabbi Greenberg's humane and deeply religious spirit is evident. Still, I think the richness and diversity of Christian reflection on the Passion of Jesus should be remembered, and also the different ways people may experience an artistic presentation of the Passion like the Gibson film. One viewer of the film told me that she saw Jesus' composure as one of love and forgiveness rather than the hatred and desire for revenge that mark much human response to abuse. I fully concur that the ultimate meaning of the gospel--the "good news"--is to liberate humans from suffering and death. While one can and must speak of the meaning of human suffering and even, in some circumstances, its redemptive and purifying value, the first impulse of the gospel must be to affirm life and to protect humans from suffering. Only at a second moment can we try to find meaning in the unavoidable suffering that befalls so many.

Only in accepting the reality of Jesus' sufferings and death are the Gospels in a position to affirm his triumph over death through resurrection. For the New Testament, the Resurrection of Jesus is not a brief flash of light at the end of the story but the vantage point from which the whole story is told. Life is stronger than death and love is more powerful than hatred. These are biblical truths Christianity owes to Judaism with its memory of the Exodus and the return from exile and its longing for Shalom. For Christians this same profound conviction is embodied in the life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus and thereby becomes the pattern for authentic life in the world and the basis for hope beyond death.

Donald Senior, CP, is president of the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, where he is also professor of New Testament. In 2001, Pope John Paul II appointed him to the Pontifical Biblical Commission.