The Pope thinks Mel Gibson has got it right — now it’s your turn

YOU may think I’ve got my dates mixed up, but in the current media clamour to get a new angle on Christmas I have been thinking about Mel Gibson’s forthcoming film, The Passion, which focuses on the end of Jesus Christ’s life on earth, not his birth.

The Passion is not due to be released until Ash Wednesday 2004, but I got a sneak preview some weeks ago.

It will be controversial for two reasons: some claim it’s anti-semitic (it isn’t), while others complain that it’s extremely violent (it sure is). The Pope has seen it and approves. “It is as it was,” he is reported to have said, and those five words will probably ensure the film’s success at the box office.

There will always be controversy when Christianity is presented with realism. In 1941 Dorothy L Sayers caused a stir when she wrote The Man Born To Be King for broadcast by the BBC.

The play told the story of Jesus Christ in contemporary language, but The Lord’s Day Observance Society and the Protestant Truth Society thought it should be banned because it promoted “irreverence bordering on the blasphemous”.

Others differed. Author CS Lewis thought the play was “excellent” and “most moving”. So did one of the actors involved, Bobby Speight, who played Christ in the drama. After recording the crucifixion episode, he put on his coat and walked out with tears running down his face.

Sayers argued (and Mel Gibson would agree) that the lack of realism in the sanitised versions of the birth, life and death of Jesus Christ produces “a sense of unreality which is very damaging to the ordinary man’s conception of Christianity”.

Perhaps this sense of unreality contributes to our failure to get real about the problems of humanity. We live in a time of fear. Public discourse is dominated by concerns over war, terrorism and international security, by fears about globalisation, the AIDS pandemic and the safety of our crops.

Yet even as we grapple with some of humanity’s problems, the so-called developed world wages daily war on the least of our species.

We are rapidly entering the world of human quality control with embryos being screened for cosmetic and health defects. The great institutions of the European Union and the United Nations seem unconcerned. The parliamentarians of Great Britain are more worried about the rights of the fox.

Disregard for life before birth is mirrored by our treatment of life after birth. Violence against religious minorities is a particular horror which, possibly for reasons of political correctness, has received very little attention in the western world.

In recent weeks the Christian community of Central Sulawesi in Indonesia was subjected to nightly terror from armed Muslim groups. In the Indian state of Rajasthan, the newly-elected director of social affairs has openly proclaimed his intention to close all Christian-run

orphanages and social institutions. Meanwhile, the Coptic Christians of Egypt are struggling under laws which penalise those who convert from Islam.

Others are suffering, too. According to some reports, between 4,000 and 10,000 members of Falun Gong have been murdered by Chinese authorities over the last four years. Amnesty International reports that torture took place in over 100 countries last year.

Its report, The Pain Merchants, details how the manufacture and promotion of equipment used to torture people is a money-making business.

“Across the world, companies and individuals send equipment they say is designed for security or crime control purposes into the hands of government security personnel who often use them to commit human rights abuses.”

What I am about to say may sound a bit preachy. I apologise in advance. But these thoughts are prompted as much by a sense of my own indifference to people’s suffering, as a desire to point the finger at governments or at other people.

Being realistic about Christmas means acknowledging that we have a duty to face up to and overcome evil, perhaps at considerable cost to ourselves.

The uncomfortable reality of the Christmas story is that it always precedes the slaughter of the holy innocents.

Christ escaped Herod’s assassins but only because his work was not accomplished. Worse was in store. The price of his love for humanity, as it turned out, was nothing less than the slow, cruel death so realistically depicted in Mel Gibson’s film.

The lesson of that death is not pleasant to contemplate. Pain and suffering are the price to be paid for loving God and our fellow human beings.

SOLIDARITY with persecuted people of whatever race or creed always entails hard economic, political and diplomatic choices for those who intervene.

Care for our own poor and homeless people demands that we forego some of the pleasures of modern living which tax cuts enable us to enjoy. And respect for the unborn child means the sacrifice of some individual and personal freedom for the sake of the essential right to live.

In the face of hard choices, it might be tempting to see Christmas as having no moral significance at all. Why not sanitise the season instead with Christmas cards and carol services? Better still, deny the historical truth of the nativity and just get on with being nice to people around us. No deeper examination of conscience needed.

In a world so full of suffering, however, it is hard to find real cause for celebration without taking the Christmas story seriously.

I’m not saying we should abandon pleasant, time-honoured traditions. Nativity plays and carol services may be joyful and sentimental occasions, but don’t they also remind us how important it is to preserve innocence and childhood?

Isn’t there a message here too about the manly qualities of Joseph? We might even ask where are the men whose girlfriends, wives, daughters and grand-daughters need a Joseph to stand by them today? Within days of his birth, the life of Jesus was threatened by the soldiers of Herod.

By contrast, some strangers travelling from the East, possibly Zoroastrians, recognised who they encountered and brought gifts and adored Him.

Joy mixed with sorrow. Just as today the people of Bethlehem celebrate Christmas in the shadow of inter-communal hatred, the first nativity scene took place in an atmosphere of danger mixed with joy.

Individually and collectively, we are caught up in a battle between good and evil.

The wise men on their knees remind us of the awesome nature of the Christmas story. The choice for us, in 2004, is the same as it was then: whether to be with Herod or with the Magi. The choice is between presenting our gifts in the cause of life or siding with those who debase and destroy life.

The worst reason for not taking Christmas seriously is the fear that others will be well aware of our own imperfections.

So what? Our choice remains the same: to accept the message of Christmas or to reject it. To pursue the welfare of humanity or to choose the path of personal convenience. That’s the stark choice we all face, and we ought to be realistic about it.