A Small Church Tragedy

I’m back. I want to talk about a story from back home in my hometown, Owensboro, Kentucky. I wish I could link the newspaper account of this story, but it’s under a registration page, so you will just have to trust me on this one.

The church is Wing Avenue Baptist Church in Owensboro, a small church where I preached quite often as a young preacher. It’s in a poor part of town, on the wrong side of the tracks- literally- in a changing neighborhood. The kind of little SBC church that grew enough to get beyond mission status, but never really was in the kind of community to attract new people just from location or the usual programs.

Then, several years ago, the church did something unusual for our community. They hired a Liberian as their pastor. Not a librarian, but an African from Liberia. Now, I grew up in this community, and I can tell you that while it’s never been a town known for racial tension, it is definitely Southern enough that white, SBC churches weren’t hiring black pastors. African or otherwise. This was a bold move, and everyone sat up and took notice. How would things turn out?

I can tell you that I know these kinds of small, traditional churches. They are quite simple. There is a core group that wants to run the show. They want the church to grow, but that means 1950’s SBC style worship, evangelism and so forth. Don’t rock the boat or get to creative. That group wants to be visited, fawned over and placated. If they are happy, you can hardly do wrong. If they don’t like you, leave. Because they aren’t going anywhere, and they will only follow when they know they are running the show.

From all reports, WABC experienced a marvelous positive turnaround under this new pastor. Like many African Christians that I know, he was warm and welcoming, conservative, devoted and hard-working. He’s a good preacher, as my mother can report from several hearings. In one year, the church took in almost 50 new members and baptized 27. Most remarkably, the church took in enough minorities to be able to call itself multi-racial, which in our community, is far from the norm.

Things changed. Worship changed, as anyone might expect, and the church seemed to be growing with little of the expected stress. All seemed to be going well. So it’s sad to report that the pastor has, with the help of a hefty vote against him, decided to leave the church, and IMO, most likely start another congregation.

What happened?

Apparently two things. First, the pastor asked the church to change their name to something less geographical and non-denominational. It seems like a small thing, but in an established, traditional SBC church in my town, it’s major league serious. Ultimately, it was never going to fly. Those West Kentucky Southern Baptist know who they are, and they don’t intend to go generic.

Secondly, the pastor tried to restructure church government in a completely non-traditional manner, a move that was perceived by many- rightly, IMO- as a way to get enough power to make decisions like the name change without having congregational votes. When you are dealing with a core group that pays the bills, anything that takes them out of their traditional power dynamics and allows the pastor to deal with a group other than the congregation is going to be opposed.

So, losing these votes, he left. No racial tension, but a repudiation of the philosophy the pastor was pursuing. The church is back where they started, because it is safe to say that the majority of the growth people will move with him to whatever he begins.

This is a sad story, because it shows what so many pastors are all about. I am not in any way bad-mouthing this young pastor. He did a great job and the church grew. Good things happened. Christians were seeing the kind of congregational transformation that most traditional churches never see.

If this young pastor could stay with it, even more good things could happen. But what’s going to happen now is yet another church is going to be born out of the generational warfare among evangelicals. Call it the worship wars, the seeker sensitive controversy or the influence of Rick Warren on ordinary pastors. Whatever it is, it seems to increasingly come down to this: If these changes can’t be made on my schedule, then I’m not willing to stay until the transformation in lay leadership makes it possible. In the end, this becomes about what changes can be made from the top down. If a church isn’t on board for them all, then it’s cya later.

It’s a shame, and it’s a failure. I wonder when the innovators will start writing books on how to stay at a church and see some things through on a schedule that might admit real change won’t come at the same pace as a pastor’s ambition might dictate.

Two Reviews of The Passion

I’ve devoted a remarkable amount of space to The Passion, and it’s time to bring some closure to that chapter by posting two brief reviews of the movie. Please read them both, and thanks to all of you who have read my reviews of other “Jesus movies” and sent along notes of encouragement.

Review #2: “For me, who Him to death pursued…”

One of the marks of the uniqueness of The Passion is the fact that so many people have blogged their personal reaction separate from their review of the film. There are a number of reasons for this, but the most important one for me is that this movie concerns the core beliefs of my life. Everything about me that I carry about in my life and will hold on to in my dying is conveyed in this film. Unlike any other movie I’ve ever seen, I am totally, personally involved with the story, and of course, with the main character. Many other Christians apparently have similar feelings.

For that reason, a personal reaction needs to be separated from a review. Bias isn’t the right word to describe what I mean. The word has to be something like “conviction.” I am convinced that the events pictured in The Passion are the defining events of all human history. No matter what happens anywhere, anytime that shapes our world, what happened in those 12 hours matters more. This isn’t an argument, or even an opinion like other opinions that I feel strongly about. This is a conviction. An anchor. A definition of truth for me, and for millions of others.

I am not a “crier” in movies. I can tear up at a sentimental scene, and I can get choked up as well. But for me to weep in a theater is unthinkable. Particularly when I have spent months blogging, reading and researching the film. I knew what was coming at every turn. Yet, I was deeply and emotionally moved by the film. Not so much by the cinema, as by the connections made with my own life and experience.

This is the Jesus to whom I’ve entrusted my life. This is the Jesus I’ve raised my children to believe in. It’s the Jesus I told my father to trust as he declined and died. It’s the Jesus I preach about and offer every week. I Peter says that we do not see him, yet we love him, and that is true. When Mel Gibson is able, through film, to connect me to this person for two hours, I am going to be emotional.

As I have blogged in this space and elsewhere, Jesus movies are a hobby of mine. Only in rare instances do those movies cause me to feel genuine emotion. When the shepherds kneel before the baby in Jesus of Nazareth. When Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” in The Gospel of John. But in this film I cried often.

Not at the violence. The beating of Jesus was a part of the movie I had researched extensively, and I believe Gibson exaggerated it beyond what we can know. (In fact, showing the soldiers going beyond their orders to beat/whip Jesus 80+ times was a flaw.) What moved me were two things:

I was deeply moved by the forgiveness Jesus showed to his tormenters. This wasn’t just a mumbled line, it was an intense embracing of the very meaning of grace. “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Jesus repeated words of forgiveness and mercy for those killing him stands in start contrast to human nature on so many levels, from the way we treat one another in ordinary relationships, to the violence in the Madrid subways.

I was also deeply affected by the clear intention of Jesus to embrace this death as our salvation. From the beginning to the end of the film, and many times throughout, Gibson again and again gives us opportunity to see a Christ embracing the cross, and fully aware that by his death, he makes “all things new.” That Jesus endured the cross “for the joy set before him, despising the shame..,” was a deeply personal encounter with the love of God for the likes of me.

Charles Wesley said, “… Died He for me, who caused His pain–for me, who Him to death pursued?” In The Passion, I deeply felt the truth of those words.

I am 47 years old. Old enough to have done many things that I regret. Most of my sins are the stale sins of our American culture. I can easily forgive myself for them, and I do not struggle with the forgiveness of God. This is wrong, because all sin is rebellion against God’s goodness and holiness, and all sin is part of why Jesus suffered and died. But that is the truth.

Of course, there are many sins that I cannot overlook, and that I know are wrong. I have confessed them, and I believe God has forgiven me for Christ’s sake. I can preach that Christ forgives sinners, and I know the truth of what I am saying.

Yet, in those 47 years, there is one sin- one season of sin really- that has escaped any kind of forgiveness. It was premeditated through years of wrong thoughts and actions. It hurt me, and those I love. It was the sort of sin the Bible points out as being heinous and life-ruining. I once knew the mental gymnastics to believe I could excuse myself from it, but I am past that now. I know it for what it is: the very worst thing I have ever done. My lowest, most wretched human moment.

And I have never been able to walk out of a church and feel that this matter was done. It followed me and taunted me over months and years. I never felt that God had forgiven me, even if I said I believed it. Maybe because the repercussions of this sin continue even today. Maybe because my conscience is outraged on a delayed schedule. Maybe because Satan is an accuser. I don’t know, but I have never felt forgiven for the worst thing I’ve ever done.

Until last Tuesday. When the stripes that healed me were repeatedly in my eyes and ears. Till the blood that covered my sin was lying in pools for me to see. Until the body of Jesus, broken for me, was whipped and nailed and pulled apart before me. Until I saw Jesus enduring what I should endure, and then saying “It is accomplished.” I cried. And I left that theater like I was leaving the most sacred church in all Christendom. Forgiven.

The Passion is a strong and provocative piece of art. It is offensive and controversial. At this moment, I don’t know if I will ever see it again. It doesn’t matter. For a few moments, the art of Mel Gibson made the Gospel blessedly real to me. As a soldier knelt there, showered in blood and water, I thought “That is me. My sin. My wretched choice. His innocence. His blood. My forgiveness.”

What anyone else may have thought or experienced doesn’t matter as much to me as that moment. Why didn’t I find this same forgiveness in some sermon or book? I don’t know. Why am I so hard, that it takes this brutalizing film to bring home to me the simple message of substitution and atonement? I do not know.

My personal reaction to The Passion isn’t an attempt to say it is flawless or anointed or that you should see it. All I can say is that for a few moments, the artist allowed me into that place where Christ’s suffering, and my sin could meet. And I could leave forgiven.

(Here’s my previous review of the film. Not quite as personal

Two Reviews of The Passion

I’ve devoted a remarkable amount of space to The Passion, and it’s time to bring some closure to that chapter by posting two brief reviews of the movie. Please read them both, and thanks to all of you who have read my reviews of other “Jesus movies” and sent along notes of encouragement.

*Minor Spoilers*

Review #1: The Passion: Prayer, Cinema and The Haunting of the World

The Passion is a cinematic Eucharistic meditation that focuses on the last 12 hours of Jesus’ life. In that sense, it is an unusual film to review as cinema, as it doesn’t particularly play by the rules, and really isn’t looking to entertain. My son found The Passion boring in many places, and I can easily see why he thought so. Gibson’s view of events is almost microscopic at times, and where most movies spend considerable time on character development and action, The Passion passes by many things with the assumption of familiarity, in order to take long and unblinking looks at things we know were part of the story, but we rarely consider in any depth.

Jim Caviezel dominates the film, as he should, and brings a distinctive vision of Jesus to the screen, one that is a long needed healthy corrective. Though physically probably too tall for the role, Gibson wanted Caviezel’s charisma and presence to convey the manliness of Jesus in a film where the brave and willing endurance of evil would be the central focus. The flashback sequences build a semi-complete picture of Jesus, but I can think of many other flashbacks that could have aided in Gibson’s cause. In these days of three hour plus epics, another 40 minutes could have been well used to bring us the many precursors of the Passion that are present in the Gospel accounts from the very beginning.

As far as casting goes, Gibson hit solidly every time he came to the plate. Maia Morgenstern’s Mary probably does more for Protestant understanding of Catholic views of Mary than centuries of art and apologetics. Riveted on Jesus throughout his sufferings, Mary is intimately aware of what is happening. At key points, it is her eyes locked upon Jesus that gives him the strength to go on. Her devotion to him- and his sufferings- is the primary way the viewer experiences the movie. It is powerful, human and deeply spiritual.

Hristo Shopov’s rendering of a pragmatic and torn Pilate has been faulted by some as soft in comparison to the historical Pilate, but I was pleased to see that Gibson placed the historical reasons for Pilate’s reluctance to kill Jesus plainly in front of the audience. While the Jewish religious leaders have reasons to hate Jesus, the Romans do not, and Pilate has been twice warned by the Emperor to control the explosive situation in Judea. Gibson takes some artistic license in presenting Pilate’s wife (Claudia Gerini) as a secret follower of Jesus, but this creates an even more plausible influence on Pilate to show restraint.

Accusations of anti-Semitism, which sounded misplaced to me before viewing the film, now sound completely bizarre. I did not leave the theater with a thought of what any Jew did to Jesus. But if a Roman soldier had been in the parking lot, I can’t say what I might have said. The soldiers in The Passion are sadistic, cruel, beasts. Their brutal destruction of Jesus drags you into a desire for vengeance, only to be confronted by Jesus’ own repeated pleading words of forgiveness. It is an effective use of the director’s art, and by the time the film has taken Jesus all the way to the crucifixion, you are as exhausted of the cruelty of the soldiers as you are of the physical abuse of Jesus himself. All the more reason to be shocked again when a soldier is showered in the blood and water from Jesus side, and kneels in guilty submission.

I was especially impressed with the weaving of various themes of The Passion together. When John comes bursting into Mary’s home to announce the arrest of Jesus, she asks the first question of the Passover Seder: “Why is tonight different from all other nights?” It’s this sort of interweaving of Biblical themes that will make the movie enjoyable to those Christians who might be tempted to judge Gibson harshly for creative departures from the Bible.

But it is in the use of the Last Supper as the commentary on the crucifixion that Gibson is particularly brilliant. As flashback after flashback goes back to the night before, and the words of Jesus in instituting the Lord’s Supper are given a visually stunning meaning, the viewer is repeatedly compelled to see that these events are not random, but part of something universal in scope, yet highly personal in meaning. As one person said, “As my body shook, as the tears flowed, as certain as the ugliness of my sin, the horror of His suffering, there was the joy of His forgiveness, and the giddy dread of His presence. I didn’t want it to end. My only comfort is that I can do it all again. Next Lord’s Day: The Table of the Christ.”

The taunts of anti-Semitism were, as expected, pointless. The Religious leaders were reacting exactly as the Bible portrays them in all four Gospels, and in accordance with what we would expect at the time. Yes, they are angry. Yes, they are insistent on Jesus’ death. And everything we know about the Sadducees is in accord with this portrayal. Of course, it is a very Jewish- but not black- Simon of Cyrene who becomes a co-sufferer with Jesus, and apparently, a believer. There are Jewish leaders who protest the treatment of Jesus. But primarily, there is the constant awareness that it is a spiritual struggle, not a political one, that is carrying Jesus to his death.

If I were looking for anti-Semitism, I could try to find it in the presence of Satan among the religious leaders or in the destruction of the temple in an earthquake. But it’s simply not there. Satan is present throughout the movie, taunting Jesus and testing his resolve. The destruction of the temple says what it should say: Jesus has done something that all religions fail to do, as is apparent from not only the temple itself, but the blind ambition and arrogance of the religious leaders themselves.

I can criticize the movie for a number of Hollywood touches- particularly in the demonic special effects department- but this is a language today’s filmgoers understand, and it is put to good use without over use. The resurrection, while welcome, seemed too short. The movie should have explored the devastation of the disciples post-crucifixion. Good Friday is about the darkness that falls on the disciples after all is over and they are left with nothing.

I could also say that the film’s flashbacks were not as carefully written and executed as the central story. The sermon on the mount was poorly staged, and the invention of the modern kitchen table and chairs by Jesus was unlikely. Herod was pointless. Mary Magdalen was not the woman in John 8. But these are quibbles over details. The film was magnificent.

The Passion is Gibson’s visual prayer for our conversion. Offered in the context of the Eucharist, Gibson wants us to be Christ-haunted as we leave the theater. He wants the images of Jesus’ suffering to haunt us, but he really wants to haunt us with the love of Christ embracing the cross, forgiving his enemies, and finishing the work of forgiveness for all of us. It remains to be seen how the non-Christian world sees this movie. Perhaps it will be confusing, or perhaps it will spark healthy curiosity. But no one who sees The Passion will ever think about these events the same way again. Gibson’s prayer is compelling art, with a vision that burns itself into your consciousness, and will not leave you unaffected.

Next: My Personal Reaction to The Passion

Preaching Grace is Risky Business

Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said that if we didn’t get complaints that we’d gone too far and said too much, then we probably haven’t really preached the Gospel of grace. That’s been my experience. Almost every time that I preach a strong sermon on justification by grace through faith, by Christ and apart from the works of the law, I get complaints. I just thought I would say a few things about that.

1) Young people have a difficult time understanding grace. I think that young people are so used to living in a world of rules and grades, so used to competition and being told to be good/do right, that the Gospel is hard for them to understand. I’ve been around youth evangelism my whole life, and I believe about 98% of the “decisions” I’ve witnessed were brought about by messages that were legalistic and moralistic, not Gospel centered. These are kids who think about the Christian life as “living for God,” not as “Christ died for me and I will never deserve that.” They are like the workers in the Vineyard who are really hacked off that the owner paid those last minute workers the same wage.

2) Another reason young people struggle with the Gospel of grace is that they’ve been the primary focus of all the cultural warfare Christians talk about. It’s in their lives that all the issues of morality and cultural decline really come to the forefront. When you hear that sort of “do good/be good/don’t be like the world” message, the Gospel of God justifying sinners really sounds dangerous.

3) I think it’s provable again and again that what we are comfortable saying to an unbeliever, we aren’t comfortable saying to a Christian. The Gospel is for Christians, too. We love the story of the Prodigal son. Now, what about the day after the party? What if the son messed up again in a week? What if he doesn’t live the life of a grateful son? Or to be more realistic, what if he sometimes does and sometimes doesn’t? Does that change the Father? Does the older brother get to come back into the story and say “Aha!! I was right!” Christ died for the sins of Christians, and we need to hear that over and over again.

4) We really don’t believe grace can conform our lives to Christ more effectively than law. I mean we don’t. We think we need the law to keep us in line. Especially, we think we need the terrors of the law to frighten us into being good Christians. It’s the “law/grace/law” model. This kind of legalism just overruns Christianity. It usually comes in a less than recognizable form, saying we need “exhortation,” etc. because we have a tendency to drift back into sin. I’m reminding of Paul’s words to the Galatians: 3:1 O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. 2 Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? 3 Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh? 4 Did you suffer so many things in vain if indeed it was in vain? 5 Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so by works of the law, or by hearing with faith. 6 just as Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness? I’m not sure we get it yet.

5) Here’s one always sure to get a rise out of evangelicals. “Once you are justified by faith, you can do what you want. And if you want to do all the things you did before you knew Jesus, then you just don’t get it.” The idea that we can do what we want just gets everyone nervous. But what is the alternative? Being somehow forced to do what we don’t want to do? I sin because parts of me still want to sin. I obey Jesus because parts of me really want to do that. It’s a bummer. (Read Romans 7) I believe there is some hope the situation will change, but not until I’m dead! The prodigal came home and did what he wanted. So did the woman in John 8 who Jesus said he didn’t condemn. So did Peter when he denied Jesus and then repented.

6) How does grace change us? The Holy Spirit gives us a new heart, the mind of Christ, new affections. We are changed and the promises of sanctification and perseverance are true. But the law can’t PRODUCE anything worthwhile in my life as a Christian. It’s either there because Jesus is my treasure and I choose him over the world and the flesh, or it’s not worth being there at all. The law can really do a great job on the externals, but grace gives me Jesus and only cares about fruit that comes from the Holy Spirit. Sorry to all the preachers and Christians trying to control people. I suggest you give up.

Well, I’ve got more, but that ought to be enough to get you thinking. Justified by grace through faith apart from the works of the law. If you want it detailed out by someone who really understood these things, try J.C. Ryle’s little piece on Justification and Sanctification Detailed.

Stand by for the first non-Passion related blog entry in a couple of weeks.

Kathy Mattea in Concert. Brown Theater. Louisville, Ky. Friday, March 5, 2004.

When I told one of my co-workers I was going to see Kathy Mattea, he said, “Isn’t she a has been?” I said, “Probably, but then look at who’s considered currently popular. I prefer the has-beens.”

For those who missed country music in the 1980’s, Kathy Mattea had her moment in the sun. Winning two Grammys, two CMAs, A female vocalist of the year and a song of the year for “Sixteen Wheels and a Dozen Roses.” Mattea opened last night’s apparently sold out show at the restored Brown theater with that familiar country hit. From the looks of the audience, Mattea’s fans are mostly in their 40’s now, like her, and with the exception of a fan who asked Mattea to do “Independence Day,” a Martina Mcbride song, are devoted to her recordings without consideration for popularity or radio play. In other words, we are “has beens” too, and not worried about it. (BTW- former Louisville Coach Denny Crum was in the audience! A nice treat for me.)

With a career that dwindled during the 90’s, Mattea did the smart thing and quit her major label contract rather than endure endless reworkings and eventual rejection. Moving to minor league status on Narada Records, Mattea was free to do what she does best- pick awesome songs, regardless of genre, and turn them into her own. Last night’s show wandered through styles ranging from Celtic to the Stones to anti-war ballads and upbeat Gospel numbers. In all her music, Mattea shows a devotion to great acoustic style, and a respect for song-writers. Though the show was heavy on material from her new album, Roses, Mattea made it clear that her concerts are showcases for great songs and great musicians. She did not disappoint.

Country music is ridiculed by most of the young and old hipsters these days, but that is their loss, because Mattea demonstrated that what is called “country” today is really a mixture of American musical styles and sources, all interpreted through a primarily “country-influenced,” acoustic music style. Carried by superb musicians playing dozens of different instruments, Mattea’s strong alto voice made every song richly accessible to those who might not usually just “sit and listen” to more traditional “country” sounds. It’s grown up music; its deep and spiritual. Mattea isn’t afraid to do music that will never be heard on a country station, but it’s also obvious that the “acoustic/roots” movement is Mattea’s loyalty.

It was interesting to hear how Mattea brought her faith into the concert. In contrast to contemporary Christian artists who seem to think that real life can’t be particularly God-honoring, Mattea wove in expressions of her faith naturally into songs that told many different kinds of stories. It’s my guess that Mattea is Catholic, because (among other things) her faith is expressed in the sort of healthy balance that Catholic artists seem to come by naturally, and the Protestant CCM community can’t seem to find. From songs that were couched as prayers to the profound theology of “Mary, Did You Know?,” to the wry humor of “That’s All The Lumber You Sent,” to the outraged, “My Mind Is Not A Junkyard,” Mattea’s faith is unmistakeably there, offering to the audience a way of looking at everything from heartbreak to war through God-centered eyes. She may be an Oprah-ite underneath it all (she recently did a performance of “The Vagina Monologues”), but I was one Christian who felt blessed by her artistry and openness to ask us to relate to the God of Jesus.

Mattea is energetic, attractive and funny. She has a good time, and though she is clearly not a Republican, she didn’t preach politics. Many of her songs are upbeat sermons to self: You can make it, even though you’ve been through tough times. It would appear that in her blessed life, Mattea learned enough tough lessons to know we could all use a lift, a laugh and an encouraging word. She may be a hippie at heart, but somewhere along the way,she’s learned to be an entertainer, a story-teller and a wonderful balance between professionalism and spontaneity.

Kathy Mattea was great, and I hope we can enjoy her wonderful music again. She has a new fan.

(BTW- Mattea makes great Christmas music. Get both her Christmas record. The first, Good News, is one of the best Christmas recording I could recommend. We’ve loved it for years.)

Two Other “Jesus” Movies Worth Watching: Part Two

Jesus Christ Superstar was first released in 1969 as a recording. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice had done a Biblical musical about Joseph, but this was a daring contemporizing of the Gospel story, with little possibility of escaping the wrath of official Christendom. By 1971, it was in a controversial, and relatively short run in British theater. In America, JCS also stirred up enormous animosity and only a modest success. In 2000, the production was revived in London, and eventually, in America, where it currently enjoys excellent success in a fresh interpretation and touring production.

Why would I list JCS as a Jesus Movie worth watching? Everyone knows that JCS is inaccurate, distorted, purposely provocative and devoid of the majority of normal Christian interpretation of any part of the story of Jesus. I’ve been watching JCS for two decades, and especially after watching and seeing the new “Gale Edwards/London 2000″ production, I am convinced that JCS is a great way for Christians who are numbed with their familiarity with Jesus to encounter some of the most important aspects of the Gospels.

I won’t try to describe what JCS gets wrong. It would take too long and too much space. Let’s note what it gets right.

Jesus was a political figure in a volatile time. Many of his followers and fans were politically minded and wanted Jesus to be king. JCS shows this in a way that is unmistakable. Jesus could never get away from this, no matter how spiritual his message.

The disciples were slow to understand and often confused by Jesus. His personal mission and everything they knew about the “kingdom” and the Messiah didn’t mix.

Jesus was a human being. He reacted with emotion. He wasn’t above us. He inspired affection and loyalty, but also great animosity and fear.

Much of what Jesus said made little sense to his followers at the time.

Jesus had all the problems of “superstardom.” Crowds, distorted publicity and women hanging around.

Jesus’ relations with women were scandalous, and looked, in his time, to be inappropriate. Talking with a woman in public. Allowing women access to you. Being supported by women. Allowing a woman to touch you. Being single so long. It would have all been shocking.

It’s entirely plausible that people like Mary Magdalene and Judas struggled with just how they felt about Jesus, and vacillated between intense faith and more human emotions like love and jealousy.

It’s highly possible that Judas’ betrayal was because of a sense that “this has to be done” or even personal jealousy.

Pilate is strangely compassionate to Jesus.

Jesus isn’t all about miracles.

Jesus did struggle mightily with his decision in the garden of Gethsemane. And it was his Father who wanted him on the cross.

The crowd was the deciding factor in Pilate’s choice. They were vicious.

The end was crushing. Final. A moment of complete defeat and despair.

I’ve found these aspects of the story to be effectively communicated in JCS. In many cases, the new setting kicks things up “another notch” to a level we can be affected by the story in a way similar to the first century.

For example, In Jesus’ time, his behavior with women was shocking. But the same actions today, aren’t shocking. In order to get the same impact, JCS takes us into areas of Jesus interactions with women that are edgy, but the point is made. Jesus was perceived as being way outside the norm.

Let me say a word about the film you should watch. It is the London 2000 production starring Glenn Carter and Jerome Pradon. This is another world from the terrible 1973 movie with Ted Neeley and the late Carl Anderson. (RIP) Director Gale Edwards has turned JCS into a play with incredible depth in the personal interplay between Jesus, Judas and Mary. Plus, it’s just fun to watch, with a lot of hat tips to Star Wars and other mythic cinema. The gritty, urban, new-fascist atmosphere and the guerilla fighter image of the disciples are great. This version connects.

Jerome Pradon, a fine British actor I’ve seen in Shakespearean work like Ian Holm’s King Lear, knocks the ball out of two parks as the best friend of Jesus, now a disillusioned, fearful and jealous betrayer. Glenn Carter is a bit bland as Jesus, but sings like an angel. His Gethsemane is powerful. Renee Castle as Mary is outstanding. Fred Johanssen as Pilate is powerful and intense. The music is great and the cast makes everything work.

As I said, the real star is the direction. What Edwards has the actors do when they aren’t singing makes the play. Trust me. It’s brilliant.

There are some weak points in this production. Ryk Mayall as Herod is terrible. The cleansing of the temple comes off as an attack on Las Vegas, which is bad because Jesus was the friend of sinners and the overturner of the tables of the religious crowd. (How did they miss this?) Rice and Webber’s errors remain, like Jesus telling the lepers to heal themselves and the disciples all being zealots. The Lord’s Supper is a mess, though the music is great. Overall, Jesus is just too much like the cool guy at your school. You never believe this guy could inspire anyone to do anything.

JCS is a significant play in that it launched- in popular culture- the radical revisions of Jesus that today have inspired more and more transformations in the artistic view of Jesus, and even has had some effect on the church. It is flawed, but brilliant. At times, it gives a powerful window into some of the dynamics and relationships that surrounded Jesus. Don’t look for the real Jesus in this play, but you already knew that.

Two Other “Jesus” Movies Worth Watching: Part One

Franco Zefirelli’s 1977 “Jesus of Nazareth” is a seven hour mini-series that covers the story of Jesus from birth to resurrection. It is easily the most ambitious “Jesus” project ever attempted. The movie uses a whole generation of great actors, including James Mason, Lawrence Olivier, Anne Bancroft, Ernest Borgnine, Ralph Richardson, James Earl Jones and Anthony Quinn. The screenplay was written by Anthony Burgess, and the script follows material in all of the Gospels, with a nice harmonizing of John and the Synoptics. Fictional characters are used effectively and sparingly, but the script isn’t afraid to go where the Bible doesn’t provide information.

One of my favorite things about Jesus of Nazareth is the creative placing of material in believable contexts. Mary Magdalen finds forgiveness at the feeding of the five thousand. Thomas is skeptical that Jesus can raise the daughter of his master, Jairus. Barabbas is a zealot who asks Jesus to lead a revolt, and instead hears Jesus’ words to “love your enemies.” Most effectively, the parable of the Prodigal Son is placed in a party at Matthew’s house, where a conflicted Peter finally decides to come to a party for prostitutes and tax collectors. In other words, rather than just “hang” passages out in space, Zefirelli creates a place in the story for these events to happen.

Robert Powell’s Jesus is alternatively accessible and charming, but also mysterious and intense. Some have found Powell to be somewhat “otherworldly,” but I believe he balances out the various opposites in the personality of Jesus in a way that is quite Biblical. Jesus could be the guy next door, and he could scare you with majesty and power. Powell lives and dies with believablity as the savior.

This movie shows exorcisms and miracles throughout the Galilean ministry, and also pauses for short doses of Jesus’ teachings. We get a good feel for how Jesus attracted crowds wherever he went, as Zefirelli used large numbers of extras to make real crowds. The relationship between Jesus and the disciples is front and center, with James Franciscus playing a first rate Simon Peter. Ample time is given to John the Baptist and the political undercurrents in Judaism. Christopher Plummer has great fun as a lustful, maniulated Herod Antipas.

An outstanding feature of this film is the major attention given to Judas. The story provides a full, and plausible, explanation of Judas’ action. Judas is a political dreamer who thinks that Jesus will be proclaimed King- if the Sanhedrin ever hears him up close. It is Judas who is betrayed by the authorities who have decided to kill Jesus all along. The fictional character of Zera makes the Sadduccees understandable.

I have used this movie as a teaching tool for almost a decade and it is very accessible and understandable. The birth section is wonderful and moving. The Passion is done tastefully, though modern audiences used to sophisticated make up and effects will be disappointed at the lack of gore. Surprisingly, even with 7 hours, much is left on the cutting room floor or was never filmed, and one of the few complaints I have about the movie is some sloppy editing. Also, at least one scene of overt adoration of Mary is bizarre, especially when Mary says “Who is his mother and brothers, etc.”, a line actually spoken by Jesus as a criticism of his mother in Mark 3. And she doesn’t age. :-/

The soundtrack is a bit redundant. The production values are excellent. Some performances are stunning in their power. I think Ann Bancroft’s Mary Magdalen and Rod Steiger’s Pilate are particularly well played. Peter Ustinov as Herod the Great is beyond compliment.

The movie was written with an awareness of the issue of anti-Semitism, but the Jewish bad guys are very bad, and without their persistent stalking of Jesus, and their insistence that Pilate kill him, the death wouldn’t have happened. It is the religious leaders who double-cross Judas, and it is the religious leaders who overrule sympathetic council members to insist on Jesus death. Interestingly, the movie shows NO deliberation about sending Jesus to Pilate, while the Gospels tell us there were hours of debate on what to do after Jesus was condemned.

This movie will, I believe, survive the current interest in “The Passion”, as THE movie to present the whole story of Jesus. This is a film that is cinematically and artistically well done, and spiritually satisfying. It has aged very well, and now that it can be owned on DVD for about $25, needs to be in every Christian’s library.