Monday, June 17, 2013

God's Will: The Last Temptation of Christ



            Let me begin by first saying that the Jesus Christ I believe in, have given my life to, is definitely not the person that is the focal point of director Martin Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ. But neither is he Scorsese’s picture of the Son of God. The image of Jesus presented here is the central character to Nikos Kazantzakis’ 1953 novel of the same name. Indeed, the title card says as much when the film begins – “This film is not based upon the Gospels but this fictional exploration of the eternal spiritual conflict.” So it is not about Christ at all, really, but instead about the internal struggle in all of us, as humans, to understand the divine and, in light of that divinity, to discern our own purpose.

            I must admit, even before I saw the film, I was confused as to why there has been so much controversy over it. At heart, I am a very intellectual person and therefore have never been able to escape the thought that all we know about the life of Christ comes from a book written by several different people, all from their own respective points of view nearly two thousand years ago. Add to that the fact that the original transcripts of these writings are long gone and the versions we have now have been translated and translated and translated so many times at varying degrees of accuracy that the result is essentially tantamount to a sort of millennial game of telephone. Just stop for a second and think: how badly does a single phrase get botched when passed around the room for five minutes between fifteen people? Now multiply that by two thousand years, dozens of languages (some no longer spoken), practically seismic shifts in the way doctrines have been interpreted, and then filter that through the lens of science and sifter of history. What do you have? The answer is simple: Faith.
            Faith that the God you worship has preserved His message for generations upon generations. Faith that you have been endowed with sufficient faculties to pick apart and understand that message. Faith in the purest, simplest sense. From this perspective, The Last Temptation of Christ may very well be the most accurate and profound depiction of the person of Jesus Christ ever committed to film because it is the only film that deals with the heart of the struggle we have as humans to have faith in a God so far beyond our own comprehension. Every other film I can think of that deals with the life of Christ centers on his actions. From Cecil B. Demille’s King of Kings (1927) (and its 1961 remake) to The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965) to The Passion of the Christ (2004), all of these films relate the life of Christ – his miracles, his teaching, his death, and of course his resurrection. But The Last Temptation of Christ is the only one that endeavors only to explore the person of Christ, specifically his humanity.
            The point in saying all of this is to implore each viewer to take the film on its own terms. As an individual work of art it does not claim to portray the Jesus of the Bible, nor does it desire to slander God and those who follow Him. Rather it is a filmmaker’s own personal faith journey. Unlike the purposefully satirical Monty Python’s The Life of Brian (1979) or the terrible, blatantly antagonistic Year One (2009), Scorsese’s film does not seek to be irreverent nor does it desire to rewrite Scripture. It wants to wrestle with the mystery of Christ – the paradox of someone completely God and yet completely human. Like Kazantzakis’ novel, the film does not pretend to have answers to its questions. And it certainly does not build itself upon a proselytizing of beliefs.
            For every license taken with the Gospel story, there is a scene dramatized directly from the Bible. The Sermon on the Mount is a wonderful example! After saving Mary Magdalene from stoning, Jesus tells his first parable. The scene is inspiring and recognizable, and innocently punctuated by his audience’s humorous misinterpretation of his message, “Kill the rich!!!” “No wait, I said LOVE! Not kill!” In one short moment, the film seems to be self aware; as if it knows that it is being scrutinized. If they ‘get it wrong’, so what? Jesus’ own audience missed the point even when they were there to hear it! The Last Temptation of Christ is endeavoring to wrestle with Christ’s humanity, and it is not afraid to make mistakes along the way.

            Truthfully, what better way to wrestle with the human nature of Christ than to examine the temptations of being human? The titular last temptation is not in fact a sin as we would understand it. The Jesus of the film is not tempted to steal, murder, or slander. He is tempted to live a normal life – a life with a family, a good wife and children and grandchildren. This ideal is in fact one of the great goals of life that we are all taught from an early age. This is what to strive for! Yet for Jesus, this temptation would mean abandoning his purpose, and condemning the world to an existence apart from God.
            Scorsese chooses to portray Jesus Christ as a man unaware of his divinity. If the films decriers were to choose an aspect to focus on, this should probably be it, instead of the temptation sequence at the end of the film where Jesus glimpses what could await him if he should choose to give in and live a normal life. There is a certain, unavoidable logic to the concept of Christ as we understand him. To be completely God as well as completely human, he must be unequivocally aware of his identity as the Son of God.
            In spite of this, the director’s decision to portray him as unaware serves as a marvelous template for which to paint his picture of the human versus divine struggle within each of us. In the film, the divinity of Jesus is revealed as he finally commends his spirit to God and willingly becomes the sacrificial lamb for humanity’s sin. In his mind’s eye he screams, “I want to be Your son! I want to be the Messiah!” And then, it is accomplished.
            It is as if Scorsese is telling us that to overcome our humanity, we must give ourselves to God. The struggle between two halves is not truly a struggle at all, but rather our own stubborn resistance to the will of God, and the plan He has for our lives. This is stated no plainer than in an early scene where Jesus is talking to his mother Mary. He hears a voice telling him he is more than he seems. Fighting it causes him great pain, and Mary says, “How do you know it is God? What if it is the devil? Devils can be cast out.” And Jesus replies, “What if it is God? You can’t cast out God, can you?”
            Indeed you cannot. That is the story of the entire picture. No matter if Jesus chooses to disobey or not, God will not leave him alone. He goes through phases trying to understand God’s will and carry it out. First he believes his message is to be exclusively love. After his fasting in the desert, he tries to marry love with action, with revolution. Yet neither of these concepts, together or apart, is enough to satisfy the drive to reconcile his humanity with God’s nature. He finally comes to the idea that he must sacrifice himself to gain this reconciliation, though he does not understand why he feels that must be so. In the end, all of his attempts to understand are revealed to be the same sort of resistance. Understanding is not so much attained through doing as it is through abandoning one’s self to the love, mercy, and divine plan of God.
            When Jesus declares, “I want to be the Messiah!” he is not making the declaration of himself as an ultimate purpose or defining action. What he is really revealing is his final willingness to be whatever God has meant him to be all along. He is giving up his resistance, his humanity, in order to give himself fully to God. It is in this that he is revealed to be God, because who truly has the power to do such a thing, except the Lord himself?

            In the end, The Last Temptation of Christ is not about Jesus. Therefore it is not a heresy. It is about us – about our own constant resistance to God. Our own inability to comprehend a Creator that loves us, judges us, gives us grace, and asks only for love in return, yet wills us to reach beyond ourselves. When you watch this incredible, soul-searching film, remember: It is not Jesus Christ you are seeing, it is your own duality, the human and spiritual natures that make you a child of God.

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