Mel Gibson's Passion and Philosophy

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by Irwin, William, Gracia, Jorge J. E.


  “Truth Is Stranger than Fiction”: Disclosure

  Prior to the passion Jesus had said to Thomas, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). As the God of the Old Testament identified himself with Being when He said to Moses, “I am who am,” Jesus identifies himself with Truth. Jesus tells Thomas he is “the Truth” and more obliquely tells Pilate “Everyone on the side of truth listens to me” (John 18:37). Presumably the phrase “everyone on the side of truth” refers to everyone on the side of God the Father, who also presumably is “the Truth” since he is one with Jesus.

  A seeming mistake in The Passion: Gibson’s Jesus speaks Latin to Pilate. Though as God Jesus would be able to speak Latin or any other language, as the human son of a carpenter from Nazareth it would be highly unlikely that he would speak Latin. As the governor of Jerusalem, Pilate, on the other hand, would presumably speak both Latin and Aramaic. So why doesn’t Gibson’s Jesus speak in Aramaic to Pilate? Is this a mistake, an oversight, on Gibson’s part? I doubt it.

  Both Scripture and Gibson have Jesus silent in the face of the question, “What is truth?” Considered in Latin—Quid est veritas?—the question may reveal why he was silent. The question contains its own answer. Perhaps truth is a puzzle—like the jumble game in the comics section of the newspaper—that discloses itself if looked at properly. “Anagram” is the technical name for a word jumble. More precisely, an anagram is a word or phrase spelled by rearranging the letters of another word or phrase. The Da Vinci Code with its clues in the form of anagrams in the search for the Holy Grail has awakened the ancient interest in anagrams and their reputed power to reveal the truth. And who can forget “red rum” from The Shining?

  “Quid est veritas?” turns out to be an anagram for “Est qui vir adest.” In translation, the Latin for “What is truth?” turns out to be an anagram for “It is the man who is before you.” So Pilate has anagrammatically answered his own question. Consider too that “President Clinton of the U.S.A.” is an anagram for “To copulate he finds interns.” But of course this isn’t true. We all know that he did not have sexual relations with that woman. After all, it depends on what the meaning of ‘is’ is. Given this evidence perhaps anagrams have tremendous prophetic power, or perhaps they are complete nonsense. You decide.

  Of course the Gospels were not written in Latin but in Greek. Interestingly, the Greek word for truth is aletheia (αληθεια) which literally, etymologically means “uncovering or disclosure.” So in identifying himself with truth, Jesus identifies himself with disclosure. As Mark Wrathall argues in Chapter 2 of this book, disclosure is about pointing to or showing a new way to look at the world, not offering criteria. The German philosopher Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) argues that already by the time of Plato the Greeks had become insensitive to the literal meaning of aletheia and had adopted the Correspondence Theory of Truth. Heidegger believes that to understand what truth is we must retrieve the ancient understanding of truth as disclosure.

  “Truth is beauty, beauty truth.” The notion of truth as disclosure finds sympathy with Keats’s sentiment. In Truth and Method, Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900–2002), Heidegger’s most famous student, likens our experience of truth to our experience of the beautiful. Both seize us and take us in their thrall. As he puts it:

  What we encounter in the experience of the beautiful and in understanding the meaning of tradition really has something of the truth of play about it. In understanding we are drawn into an event of truth and arrive, as it were, too late, if we want to know what we are supposed to believe. (Gadamer 1989, p. 490)

  As Paul would confirm, the suddenness with which truth strikes us is well described by the biblical motif of the thief in the night. “For you yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord shall come just like a thief in the night” (1 Thessalonians 5:2). Gibson’s Claudia, Pilate’s wife, is certainly open to disclosure. Convinced as she is by truth disclosed in her dreams, she acts on them and counsels her husband, though to no avail.

  But truth as disclosure is not beyond criticism. What we think is disclosed truth may be false. Christianity holds that “Jesus is God incarnate” is revealed, disclosed truth, whereas Islam holds that “[t]here is only one God and Muhammad is his prophet” is the revealed, disclosed truth. These claims are inconsistent with one another, so at least one must be false. Perhaps disclosure describes what the experience of truth is sometimes like, though it is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for truth. We are left then with faith, taking a leap, believing what one fallibly perceives to be disclosed. So in giving your “final answer” go with your gut, your first instinct.

  Truth and Interpretation

  So I’d be a lousy “phone-a-friend lifeline.” I couldn’t give you a good final answer to the question, “What is truth?” Instead, please accept these nice consolation prizes in the form of further questions to keep in mind while reading the next two chapters in which Jorge Gracia and Cynthia Freeland focus attention on the nature of interpretation and Gibson’s take on the two Marys. Is Gibson’s film a true interpretation? Were Mary, the mother of Jesus, and Mary Magdalene caring, supportive, nurturers? Or were they more active in the ministry of Jesus? Was Pilate such a genial man, essentially coerced by Jewish authorities? Was Claudia so sympathetic? Does Gibson give us the truth about Jesus? Was he the Truth? Did he ever really say, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life”? Are the Gospels themselves interpretations of earlier sources?

  Don’t like these questions? Then don’t read any more. “You can’t handle the truth!”

  SOURCES

  Jean Baudrillard. 2004. Radical Thought. Translated by Francois Debrix. Accessed online at http://www.uta.edu/english/apt/collab/texts/radical.html on February 11th, 2004.

  David Detmer. 2003. Challenging Postmodernism: Philosophy and the Politics of Truth. Amherst: Humanity Books.

  Hans-Georg Gadamer. 1989. Truth and Method. Second Edition. Translated by Joel Weinsheimer and Donald G. Marshall. New York: Continuum.

  Martin Heidegger. 1962a. Being and Time. Translated by John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson. San Francisco: Harper Collins.

  ———. 1962b. Plato’s Doctrine of Truth. In William Barrett and Henry D. Aiken, eds., Philosophy in the Twentieth Century, Volume 3 (New York: Random House), pp. 251–270.

  William Irwin. 2001. A Critique of Hermeneutic Truth as Disclosure. International Studies in Philosophy 33 (2001), pp. 63–75.

  William James. 1997. The Meaning of Truth. Amherst: Prometheus.

  Jean-François Lyotard. 1984. The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge. Translated by Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

  Friedrich Nietzsche. 1966. Beyond Good and Evil. Translated by Walter Kaufmann. New York: Random House.

  ———. 1969. On the Genealogy of Morals. Translated by Walter Kaufmann and R.J. Hollingdale. New York: Random House.

  Betrand Russell. 1998. The Problems of Philosophy. Second Edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

  Richard Swinburne. 2003. The Resurrection of God Incarnate. Oxford: Clarendon.

  G.A. Wells. 2004. Can We Trust the New Testament? Thoughts on the Reliability of Early Christian Testimony. Chicago: Open Court.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  1. Which criterion for truth do you find most effective?

  2. Can the Correspondence Theory be used to give a metaphysical answer to the question, what is truth?

  3. Against the Coherence Theory, can you think of a belief you hold that does not depend on any other beliefs?

  4. Why is truth so important to us?

  5. Can the Pragmatic Theory of Truth justify a lie?

  12

  How Can We Know What God Truly Means? Gibson’s Take on Scripture

  JORGE J.E. GRACIA

  Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ is one of the most controversial films ever to have hit the screen. Much of the polemic surrounding it is based on judgments abou
t its fidelity to the Gospels. Some critics believe that Gibson has betrayed the divine message revealed in the Scriptures, whereas his supporters hold that he has gotten to the essence of that message. Who’s right?

  The task of philosophy is to clarify and judge impartially. Can it do it in this case? One way in which it can help is by sorting out the issues involved in the interpretation of Scriptures. This is a central and constant topic in the philosophy of religion. It can be illustrated by the challenge faced by Gibson in filming the last hours of Christ based on the account of them presented in the four Gospels.

  Is The Passion of the Christ Faithful to the Bible?

  The criticism of many who fault the film for not following the Scriptures faithfully comes from two sides. For some, the Biblical text is the Word of God, and you are not supposed to mess with what God has told us. The liberties that Gibson takes in the film damn it. For others who do not view the Biblical text as the Word of God, Gibson’s elaborations are also damning, for they convey an anti-democratic, anti-Semitic message based on superstition and fanaticism. On the other hand, many of those who praise the film point out that the important thing about the movie is the Christian message it conveys. They feel that Gibson has some room to interpret what the Scriptures say, as long as the divine message is effectively presented.

  This is a classic case of disagreement based on the use of different criteria: Audience expectations determine final judgment. The issue that has to be addressed in order to understand the nature of the disagreement is more basic than the issue that appears to be at stake on the surface. Once we understand the bases of the deeper disagreement, then we can see whether there is a way of resolving it.

  In the context of The Passion, however, matters are more complicated than one would expect. It is one thing to talk about film interpretations of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, for example, and another to deal with a film interpretation of what many believe to be God’s revelation. In the first case, little rides on the outcome. Does it really matter, except to a minuscule group of scholars or cultists whether Warhol or Coppola are right in their interpretation of Stoker? Most of us are not disturbed when Warhol pokes fun at Dracula or when Coppola makes him a romantic hero. In the case of Scriptures, however, the meaning of the text stands at the very center of many people’s lives, and the correct understanding of the significance of Jesus is considered paramount. To poke fun at Christ is blasphemy and to distort his message is anathema. The reason: What can be more important than the question of the correct understanding of God’s revelation? Even a non-believer cannot but realize the importance of having the right interpretation. Just think of this: If in fact it is true, as Christians claim, that the Bible contains God’s message to humanity, what could be more important for a human being than figuring out what that message is? Everything else pales by comparison. God is supposed to be the creator and sustainer of the world, nothing occurs without his permission and co-operation, and he oversees that everything works for ends he has in mind, according to his providence. He is the Supreme Boss. So, if the Bible tells us what he wants us to know, we better listen, or else we might get fired, perhaps literally.

  This brings me to the general issue of concern here: How should a text that is regarded as a revelation from God be interpreted? In the present context, the issue translates into the question: How should the Biblical texts that describe the passion of Christ be interpreted in a film? The answers to these questions will provide the basis for judging the value of The Passion of the Christ. If Gibson’s movie is a legitimate interpretation of the Biblical text, then its value is clear, but if it is not, then its detractors win. Let me begin with the challenge that Gibson faced in making the movie and how he met it.

  Gibson’s Challenge

  Gibson’s challenge was to produce an accurate and effective film interpretation of the passages of the Christian Scriptures that deal with the passion of Christ: accurate in the sense of being faithful to the Gospels’ accounts, and effective in conveying the divine message to those who see the film. He encountered several initial difficulties. Some of these have to do with the differences in medium between films and a written text, some have to do with the incompleteness of the four accounts that the Gospels give of the passion of Christ, and still others concern differences found in those accounts. Here I will consider only difficulties of the first two sorts because they, more than the third, challenged Gibson.

  The differences in medium are significant. A film is composed of visual images of real people and objects accompanied by a sound track of background noise, music, and voices. A written text usually consists of abstract signs arranged in certain ways so they can convey meaning. Films do leave something to the imagination of viewers, of course. In a film we are presented with a picture of how things are, but images can be suggestive, although not as much as a written text. Imagination plays a much larger role in texts. We do not at all see, but rather are told, what is happening. In response to suggestions from the text, we construct images in our mind. This leaves more room for readers to develop images that correspond to their understandings. Indeed, to some extent the images will depend on what readers know prior to their acquaintance with the text. For someone who has never been to Palestine, a description of the terrain where Jesus walked might suggest something very different than it would do to someone who has been there or who has seen pictures of it. Because a film must present us with definite pictures, Gibson had to create definite images in response to the text, thus giving us his interpretation.

  A text can be silent in areas where a film has to be explicit, such as clothing, location and landscape, the physical appearance of the characters in the narrative, and gestures and facial expressions, to name just a few. There is practically no indication in the Scriptural passages describing Christ’s passion of the clothing worn by Jesus, the Apostles, or any of the people that surrounded him. In many other films about Christ, he is presented as dressed in white clothes that look not just new, but as if they had just come out of the laundromat. But Gibson chose to dress Christ in garments of natural colors that appear worn and dusty.

  There are few references in the Scriptures to the landscape where the events of the passion took place. Even the place of the crucifixion is disputed by scholars. How urban was the site? Was it dry and dusty or rich with vegetation? How high was the promontory where Christ is supposed to have been crucified? Even if the precise location were known, two thousand years have elapsed, and we would have no assurance that today the place looks anything like what it looked when Christ was there. But a landscape is needed for a film, and Gibson provides us with one, although it is not in Palestine, but Italy.

  Another important area where the Scriptural text gives little guidance concerns the gestures and facial expressions of the players in the story. Yet, these are extremely important, not only because they are part of communication, but also because they convey moods. The same words accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders mean something very different. An ironic tone contradicts an affirmation. And the direction of a gaze can alter the audiene of a message. Indeed, in the Last Supper, when Christ speaks to the Apostles, at one point Gibson makes him look directly at the camera. In this way Christ seems to be speaking to those watching the film, whereas in the story he is talking to those sharing the meal with him.

  Perhaps most important of all is the physical appearance of the characters in the story, particularly Christ. How many films about Christ have been produced in which he looks like the northern European ideal for a male: blond, blue-eyed, tall, and with the cheekbone structure of an Anglo-Saxon? Yet, the reality must have been different. The Biblical text tells us hardly anything about Christ’s appearance. Was he tall or short? Did he have blue or brown eyes? What color and consistency was his hair? Was he handsome or ugly, muscular or scrawny? Had he lost any teeth by the time of the passion? Were his teeth straight or crooked, stained or perfectly white? Gibson had to make choices. He portrays Jesus as a han
dsome, tall, and muscular man, with dark hair and eyes, a tanned complexion, and a fairly long face.

  The relative short nature of films—even of a relatively long one like The Passion—and the limited section of the Gospels with which this move is concerned—merely the description of events from the moment Christ is apprehended until he dies and comes back to life—pose another problem. Much needs to be filled in to make the movie intelligible. Characters have to be developed (Satan, Jesus’s mother), some context to Jesus’s life has to be provided (the prior life of Jesus, the means whereby he earned his living), and the relations among other persons in the movie (Pilate to his wife Claudia, Jesus’s mother and Mary Magdalene). Things are happening all around the events of the passion and a movie would not appear credible, or even make sense, if some of this context were not presented.

  Gibson accomplishes this by adding scenes to the film that are not part of the Gospel narratives concerned with the passion, often as flashbacks. Some of these are based on other biblical texts, such as the exchange between Christ and the Apostles or about his work as a carpenter. But others have no Scriptural bases, such as the exchange between Mary and Jesus in which she orders him to wash his hands before coming in to eat, or the scene toward the end of the movie in which Satan is seen having a fit of rage.

 

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