WHY EVANGELICALS ARE CHEERING A PROFOUNDLY CATHOLIC MOVIE – BY DAVID NEFF
- Charles Perez
- Nov 9
- 3 min read
The Passion of Mel Gibson
In the history of modern evangelical enthusiasms, Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ seems to be joining WWJD bracelets and Promise Keepers’ conferences as cultural markers. At first it seemed like it might just be a quirky art film: a film about Jesus’ passion using only Aramaic and Latin—and with no subtitles.
But what started as news of the weird has turned into a powerful and popular film likely to be a major milestone in cinematic history. Gibson filmed the Passion with trademark force—and added subtitles for those whose ancient-language skills are rusty. The film opened on nearly 3,000 screens, with endorsements from leaders like Donald Hodel, Greg Laurie, Bill Hybels, and Ricky Skaggs. Tyndale House published a companion coffee-table book; moving testimonies circulated widely online.
This evangelical enthusiasm may surprise some: the film was shaped from start to finish by a devout pre–Vatican II Catholic and a medieval Catholic vision. Yet evangelicals embrace it because it articulates themes vital to all classical Christians.
The Vision Thing
Gibson prefers the Tridentine Latin Mass and calls Mary co-redemptrix. He drew details from Anne Catherine Emmerich’s Dolorous Passion, a 19th-century mystic’s visions of Christ’s suffering. For example: Pilate’s wife sends linen to Mary; Mary and Magdalene kneel to wipe up Christ’s blood from the scourging pillar—giving Gibson a dramatic, compassionate visual.
Evil Unmasked
From Emmerich, Gibson took the scene of Satan tempting Jesus in Gethsemane—not as a roaring beast, but as a pale, hooded female whispering: “Takest thou even this sin upon thyself? Art thou willing to bear its penalty?” From her robe slithers a serpent—crushed under Jesus’ heel, echoing Genesis 3:15.
Gibson told pastors: “Evil takes the form of beauty… It is the great ape of God. But the mask is askew.” He affirmed spiritual warfare: “The big realms are slugging it out. We’re just the meat in the sandwich. And for some reason, we’re worth it.” And “Complications happened… the closer you are to a breakthrough, the more vigorous [the opposition] gets.”
Getting Personal
Gibson stresses personal culpability: “For culpability, look to yourself. I look to myself.” In a powerful symbolic act, he—the director—grabbed the hammer and drove the nails into Christ’s hands on camera.
The project rescued him from despair: “I found myself trapped with feelings of terrible, isolated emptiness.” He had neglected prayer for 18 years—since age 17—until chaos drove him back to God.
Contemplating God’s Wounds
Unlike typical Protestant prayer, Gibson’s Catholic spirituality includes contemplative devotion—meditating on each wound, each station of the Passion. The film mirrors the Five Sorrowful Mysteries: Agony, Scourging, Crowning, Carrying, Crucifixion.
He writes: “I think of it as contemplative… compelling one to remember—in a spiritual way, which cannot be articulated, only experienced.” And: “I went to the wounds of Christ in order to cure my wounds… It was like giving birth: the story got inside me and started to grow… I had to tell it.”
The Blood Sacrifice
Gibson does not shy from blood. He affirms Leviticus 17:11: “The life of the flesh is in the blood… it makes atonement.” Unlike liberal Christians who downplay blood, Gibson presents it unflinchingly: “In the Old Covenant, blood was required. In the New Covenant, blood was required. Jesus could have pricked his finger, but he didn’t; he went all the way.”
What rewards him is the audience’s silence, introspection, realization—and remembering. After one viewing, a person simply said: “I’m sorry. I forgot.”
—David Neff, editor of Christianity Today

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