Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Adding “Passion” to the Passion Story


In the weeks leading up to Easter, cable networks roll out new and rerun shows, specials, and mini-series on Jesus and Christianity. This year’s best new feature is “Jesus: His Life,” an eight-part mini-series on the History Channel. It’s... ok. Like most other video depictions of Bible stories, it sanitizes events. Most of us don’t notice because those are the versions we’ve learned and accepted. The Passion Story with no passion. 

John Legend played the title role in the latest production of
“Jesus Christ Superstar,” that aired live on NBC last
Easter Sunday.
Most of us have heard Bible stories over and over again from the time we were in the cradle. They are so familiar, we accept them very matter-of-factly. Me, too. That’s why we don’t always realize these real-life events happened to real-life people no different from you and me. 

In 1970, at 14 years old, an elderly visiting priest warned all parents during a Sunday homily to forbid their kids from ever listening to a note of the sacrilegious record “Jesus Christ Superstar.” After that, of course, most of us couldn’t wait to get our hands on it. 

The groundbreaking rock opera was a revelation. By the end of the 39 lashes, I was stunned, barely able to breathe. Each crack of the whip created a connection I had never before made in my sterile understanding of Biblical times: even though he was God – God! – this was real torture and Jesus felt real, excruciating pain. 

Mary and Martha, in the History Channel production of
“Jesus: His Life,” comfort their dying brother Lazarus as
they await a visit from Jesus.
Bible stories are stories about real people, stories alive with blood-and-guts passion, hitting every stop on the emotional spectrum. But most video depictions of Jesus’ life and death this side of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” are populated with even-tempered, pious animatrons framed by gauzy halos.

One example from this year’s “Jesus: His Life” was the death of Lazarus. In it, Jesus deliberately waits until Lazarus is dead before beginning the long journey to Bethany. When he finally shows up – so late that Lazarus is already dead and buried – Martha, with big doe eyes, runs up to Jesus and pointedly states, “My brother would be alive if you had been here.” Then sister Mary flatly says the same thing. That, of course, causes Jesus to weep, seemingly prompted only by the narrator.

Time for a reality check. Sisters Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus were dear friends of Jesus, the guy healing every blind man and cripple in sight. Instead of hurrying to his friend’s side to at least hold his hand, comfort him or say good-bye if necessary, Jesus blows him off until Lazarus is stinking in the tomb, leaving the two sisters without a male protector to fend for themselves in a society perilous for women. 

Do you really think Martha and Mary greeted Jesus with a benign, “Golly gee, wish you were here?” More likely, at least one would have grabbed his robe and screamed in his face, “Where were you?” And then beat her fists on Jesus’ chest, bawled, and charged accusingly, “My brother would be alive if you had been here.”

Maybe that’s why, seeing the pain he caused his dear friends, “Jesus wept.”

“Christ at Simon the Pharisee” (1618-1620) by Flemish-Baroque
artist Peter Paul Reubens depicts a penitent woman, possibly
Mary of Bethany, anointing Jesus feet with her hair.
Take full advantage of some of the movies and mini-series out this Easter season. “Jesus: His Life” actually has some very good expert commentary. The Mark Burnett/Roma Downey-produced “The Bible” from 2013 was very good. My favorite is Franco Zeffirelli’s mini-series “Jesus of Nazareth” from 1977.

Better yet, go to the source. Read the stories written under the bylines Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Then put yourself there. Imagine being in a house jammed shoulder-to-shoulder with people when, all of a sudden, a hole opens in the thatched roof so three guys can lower their paralyzed friend down to Jesus. Or can you envision the bedlam when a wildly angry Jesus ripped through the temple market, scattering merchants, livestock and stacks of coins in a cacophony of shouts, screams, feathers and dust? Maybe you’ll feel the confused awe when Mary wipes the fragrant burial oil off the dirty feet of the itinerant preacher with her hair. 

In other words, read a story in black and white, close your eyes, and add the color to make it come alive – rising from your imagination like Lazarus rose from the grave. Happy Easter!