Horror flick?

It's a horror film. The opening scenes immersed in foggy bluish hues take place in the dark of night. The harrowing sound of rattling and scraping chains contribute to the consternation. Characters in silhouette add to the trepidation. Blood and violence further the dread.

Like all horror films, the viewer waits both in fascination and in fear for the first appearance of the monster. This movie, however, pulls a fast one on the audience. The monster never appears. Maybe this is the reason that few people consider The Passion of the Christ a horror film. But it is.

Even though the monster never traverses the screen, this films leads to a disturbing realization. The unseen monstrosity is none other than God. I doubt this is what Mel Gibson intended, but it is surely what he has produced. Think about it--only a monster would demand beatings, flaying of flesh, crowning with thorns, and crucifixion.

God as monster is a significant theological problem. This problem has been created by a punitive model of redemption that exacts grisly payment for wrongs done. This approach sees Adam and Eve's disobedience ruining everything for us, slamming shut the gates of heaven, only to be pried open by Jesus' bloody sacrifice that eventually balanced humanity's ledger sheet in the divine accounting books. Gibson's focus on "not my will but thine be done" gives approbation to this punitive model of redemption.

I don't see God as monster. Nor do I think God exacting retribution in the form of Jesus' suffering and death is particularly insightful or accurate. Luckily in the Christian story there are other images of God. Take the father in the Prodigal Son story who treats his returned wayward son with esteem and gratitude. Hardly a monster, this father prepares a banquet to celebrate his son's return. No beatings, no blood, no punishment is demanded in this story to right aberrant behavior. The father of the prodigal son presents a radically different view of God than the one Gibson's film does.

Christ's life and teachings give his death meaning. Yet Gibson's focus on Christ's last days on earth independent of his life and teachings skews this film toward the horror genre. The few flashbacks Gibson chooses to include do not adequately communicate Christ's life and teachings, nor do they establish a context for understanding his death. Gibson's brief Resurrection scene, which appears more as a tacked on afterthought than an integral part of the narrative, doesn't alleviate the "God as monster" motif.

Mel Gibson's Jesus film, perhaps unintentionally, creates a lot of collateral damage. God, who is no monster, is made one in The Passion. Gibson, of course, did not invent the retribution theory of redemption. He walks in the footsteps of a long line of people who championed this theory and turned God into the monster he is not. But Gibson's horror film, regretfully, reinforces retribution to the max. Theologically, this horror film called The Passion of the Christ is a horrible film.

PETER GILMOUR ([e-mail]) teaches at the Institute of Pastoral Studies of Loyola University Chicago.