Director of Creative Ministries (Charles R Swindoll Ministry)
Don't go see this movie.
At least not with popcorn drenched in butter and a handful of junior mints. The first five minutes in the Garden of Gethsemane will curb your appetite. Once you hear the guttural sobs of Jesus and see His forehead beading with blood-tainted sweat, your stomach will churn for quite a different reason.
Rarely has such a movie, especially such an overtly religious one, received such cultural buzz. In the past, many “Christian movies” earned a section in the cheese aisle at grocery stores. However, after shelling out $25 million, Mel Gibson has brought biblical films back to the grandeur of productions of Cecil B. DeMille. Reviews about the movie circulate through e-mail faster than the latest virus. Every major Christian leader has struggled to find new ways to use words like “awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, and life-changing” in their endorsements. Phone lines jam with advance ticket sales. Churches race to rent out whole movie theaters. Editorials scream about Mel Gibson's purported racism. Ironically, while many in society stress how this movie will stir up division, most Protestant and Catholic camps unite in universal praise of the film. As the grass roots blaze over the much-anticipated The Passion of the Christ , I want to offer a word of warning: It's not for everyone. In fact, it really should be viewed by only one type of person. Here's a list of folks who should stay home:
Don't go see this movie if you believe Jesus is “safe for the whole family.” Far from the cherubic European with blond hair and luminous halo we see in church hallways, this Jesus has sawdust under his fingernails, battered sandals, and quite another crown on his brow. After viewing the last twelve hours of His life, one shudders at the ramifications of His words, “Remember the word that I said to you, ‘A slave is not greater than his master.' If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you” (John 15:20). Don't see this movie if you have issues with artistic license when it comes to portraying biblical events or watching any “R”-rated movies. When someone asked Mel Gibson if he thought having an “R” rating would turn people away, he retorted, “But the story is ‘R' rated!” Furthermore, Mel takes few liberties with the gospel accounts. Just like a good preacher, Mel artistically and brilliantly fills in the gaps where Scripture doesn't speak. If strict fundamentalism has sapped any sanctified imagination, let me save you the disappointment of playing the “heretic” card.
Don't darken the theater if you presuppose the movie is anti-Semitic. You'll quickly realize your problem lies not with a Gentile named Mel, but with four Jews named Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Furthermore, you will have to deal with the awful truth that no one race, people group, government, or person killed Jesus-it was all of us and none of us.
Don't see this if you are the type to ram the Gospel down people's throats at emotionally opportune moments. I can see it now-the screen will darken, people will revive from their emotional comas-knees wobbly as a young colt-and just outside the exit doors will be an army of “saints” charging upon these spiritually skittish pilgrims, waving tracts and demanding a decision. The movie speaks; we don't need to. They've just witnessed the gruesome execution of God. Our best ministry may be one of presence, silence, and a listening ear over a cup of coffee.
Above all, don't go if you believe Jesus was simply a “good man,” a “great teacher,” or a “godly prophet.” “Good men” blend into the crowd. “Great teachers” are not scourged like murderous convicts. Prophets, even the godliest, stay in the grave. As C. S. Lewis aptly stated, “He is either lunatic, liar, or Lord.” This movie confronts you with one decision: this is either true or it's false. There is no comfortable halfway spot where you can sip the lukewarm draught of inclusivism. If this story is true, then His claim to be “the Way” prunes all the other branches on the “many-paths-to-God” tree. Let's be honest, exclusivity fits like shoes a size too small on the feet of post-modernity. If you go to this film, you'll pay around seven dollars, but you will have really bought yourself a difficult choice: what will I believe about this carpenter from Nazareth?
In short, the only person who really needs to see this film . . . is one who never plans on staying the same