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05/29/2004: "It's late, but here we go on The Passion again"
Catholic author Mary Gordon demonstrates the hazards of the Rip van Winkle effect in a piece for the June 2004 issue of the liberal American Prospect:
If Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ is a problem, what is the problem, and whose problem is it, anyway? There are in fact two problems, and their relationship is both oblique and shadowy.
The most important is the film's anti-Semitism. Gibson and his screenwriter, Benedict Fitzgerald, say they didn't intend to make an anti-Semitic film, and we must, I suppose, take them at their word. But even taking them at their word addresses only the conscious intentions; if one examines the imagery and associations in the film, the power of the unconscious rears its head–and in this case it is an ugly and a dangerous one. In a world in which acts of violence against Jews and their sacred places are on the rise, any work capable of fanning these always fannable flames is morally dicey. The possibility that Gibson's film, whether intentionally or not, will contribute to growing anti-Semitism–not only in this country but in the world at large–is a problem for all people of goodwill, not only for Jews.
I appreciate Ms. Gordon worrying about anti-Semitism. I really do. I just wish she'd turn her concern to something that might actually spread it. Polls done in the wake of The Passion indicated that if it had any impact at all, it was to reduce the presence of anti-Semitic attitudes in viewers. But if you've been asleep for the last four months, you wouldn't know that, would you? As Mark Shea keeps pointing out, The Passion body count is still 0, and is likely to stay that way, despite Ms. Gordon's oddly timed expression of concern.
She objects to the lack of concern by many of her fellow Catholics, especially liberal Catholics, but reserves special wrath for one:
Most offensive to me by a long chalk, however, was an article in Commonweal by John A. Coleman, which begins by asserting that Gibson's film is not anti-Semitic because it divides the blame evenly between Jews and Romans. Never mind that this is patently untrue, that Pontius Pilate is portrayed as sensitive, thoughtful, and agonized and Caiaphas as a bloodthirsty rabble-rouser.
It's a pity that Ms. Gordon is so easily offended, because her interpretation of the film is hardly the only one possible. Pilate, in one plausible reading, is portrayed as weak, vacillating, unprincipled, and concerned almost entirely about how the Jesus affair will effect him. It's Romans who carry out the scourging and execution, and a jolly time they have of it, too. Her description of Caiaphas is not far off, but even he is offset a bit by the presence of Jewish leaders (Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea) who are portrayed positively.
She concludes by citing the president of the Anti-Defamation League, who most definitely didn't distinguish himself throughout the whole controversy:
The us-them divisions that these events have engendered underscore the poignancy of Abraham Foxman's questions: "Why are we the only ones raising our voice? Where are you?"
I don't know when he said this (Gordon doesn't say), but I guess the National Council of Churches, the leadership of the largest mainline denominations, and many Christian voices in academia and the media don't count for much. I guess even Mary Gordon doesn't count for much.


