Kazantzakis, Discussion, Judas and DaVinci
Kazantzakis
Does anyone remember The Last Temptation of Christ? The book, written by Nikos Kazantzakis (of Zorba the Greek fame) came out a long time ago. The film came out when I was in high school. It attracted attention and viewers, including me — although I couldn't watch it at the time, since it was rated R, I was 17, and my parents refused to accompany me.
(An explanation for non-Americans: cinemas here aren't supposed to admit viewers younger than 18 to movies that are rated R, unless they are accompanied by a parent. In reality, they did it quite often back then, but not when public outrage is stoked by a particular film.)
What was I to do? Being the bookish type, I checked Kazantzakis' book out from the public library and read it instead. It contains a number of intriguing ideas. It contains heretical ideas, as well, but this is a work of fiction, after all. I was impressed that Kazantzakis was willing to take seriously the notion that Christ was so fully human that he would endure such extremes of temptation.
The book posed no danger to my faith; I could appreciate Kazantzakis' imagination without taking his flights of fancy too seriously. The example that sticks out in my mind is the protagonist's fantasy of a menage-a-trois. Episodes like that reveal a great deal more about Kazantzakis than they do about Jesus.
Of course, I wasn't aware of that when I set out to read the book; I was only aware that its theme was Jesus' last temptation on the cross, which involved abandoning the cross, and taking up a sensual life with Mary Magdalene. This appealed to me strongly. I would point out to people that it's not far from the Gospel's depiction of the Garden of Gethsemane: Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done.
There is certainly room for development here, in a fictional sense.
Abba, Father, all things are possible to you. Take this cup away from me, but not what I will but what you will.
My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.
As I said, there were jewels to be found in the book. Kazantzakis described the tension between Jesus' human and divine natures using the Curse. The details escape me — I read it more than 15 years ago, remember — but we first meet the Curse as the sound of footsteps following following Jesus. Jesus turns, but sees no one there. The image is effective at communicating a fundamental Christian idea, that Jesus in his divinity knew beforehand that he must die, although in his humanity he surely struggled with the notion.
Both the novel and the film caused a ruckus. Many theaters refused to show the film, and a number of those that did suddenly began enforcing the R rating. They attracted protests all the same. A number of unhappy people made dramatic remarks about Christians being persecuted, and about this being a sign that Christ would return any day now. A number of other unhappy people made drastic remarks about the first group posing a threat to free speech. All of this was nonsense, but people say some pretty dumb things when they let the fire in their hearts rule the machinery in their brains.
My U.S. Government teacher, a liberal and lapsed Catholic, went to see it. He shook his head in class the next day and remarked that It's a badly made film. I watched it on video some years later, and I had to agree. It's terribly edited. Yet it attracted viewers, such as my government teacher, who ordinarily wouldn't have watched it. Why? because well-meaning clergy and laity lambasted it.
There's nothing some people don't enjoy so much as watching controversial films, even those that are badly made.
From Kazantzakis to Judas
I said the film posed no danger to my faith. What did pose a danger to my faith was the absolute refusal of people at my church to talk about it, or even to discuss the issues involved. I was hyper-responsible, and struggled with fantasies of abandoning my responsibilities. I also struggled with sexual fantasies all the time (again, I was 17). Why should it be so outrageous to imagine that Jesus might have struggled with similar fantasies, especially if he triumphs over them?
I couldn't get an answer. Any attempt at conversation with the adult Christians whom I respected was shut down pretty quickly. I sensed strong discomfort even with the idea that Jesus might not have been too thrilled about dying. I asked questions because I wanted to understand; their reaction implied that my questions were a disingenuous guise for dissent.
I educated myself. Over the years, this has led to me to quite unorthodox areas. In my youth, I had read about apocryphal gospels. Search hard enough in a good university or on the internet, and you will find a few. I found and read the Gospel of Thomas. I recognized it from its very first sentence as a Gnostic scripture (These are the hidden sayings...). Studying the issue, I concluded that Gnosticism wasn't Christianity, but a parody of it, and a bad one at that. Gnostic Gospels claimed to reveal "secret" knowledge that Christ kept hidden from those fools who founded the canonical faith, sharing them with the wiser apostles instead (typically Thomas, Mary Magdalene, Judas). A number of such gospels are known, and fragments of have been found. I acquainted myself with a few other apocryphal gospels, but nothing impressed me.
I wasn't impressed by the recent claims of the rediscovery of a "lost" gospel. The Gospel of Judas is certainly not a "forgotten" Gospel in the strictest sense of the word. St. Irenaeus mentioned it in the second century:They declare that Judas the traitor was thoroughly acquainted with these things, and that he alone, knowing the truth as no others did, accomplished the mystery of the betrayal; by him all things, both earthly and heavenly, were thus thrown into confusion. They produce a fictitious history of this kind, which they style the Gospel of Judas.
Even less did it surprise me that the Gospel of Judas begins with the same promise that begins the Gospel of Thomas, to reveal "secret" teachings.
An interesting question I've had since hearing of the Gospel of Judas is, Did Irenaeus give a faithful summary of its text? It's an obvious question to ask; I haven't seen it answered anywhere.
Typically, Americans Christians are ignorant of their faith. Most Christians wouldn't know Gnosticism from a hole in the ground, and many of them would embrace some tenets of Gnosticism (our true selves are immaterial beings of light, not the matter in which we've been trapped) over the tenets of the ancient Apostles' Creed (I believe in the resurrection of the body...) Of course, it's impossible to educate oneself on things that aren't discussed, due either to lack of resources or to discomfort or to... whatever.
From Judas to DaVinci
At Mass the other day, our priest asked, How many of you have read, or plan to watch, The DaVinci Code? A lot of hands went up. Mine didn't; I have no interest in conspiracy theories, and (being bookish, again) I was aware of Holy Blood, Holy Grail.
Get your hands up high, the priest encouraged with a smile, I really want to know... He raised his own hand, confessing, With all the controversy, I wanted to educate myself, so I read it. It's a great read, a real page-turner.
Then he asked, How many of you have watched Mel Gibson's Passion? This time, my hand went up. Other hands went up or down, or stayed up or down. My son surprised me by raising his hand. I looked down at him. Ты смотрел? I asked. Да, дома, he affirmed, somewhat defensively. Wow. The things that go on in my house that I don't know about. To think he's only 9.
(My wife tells me that I did in fact know, and even watched a little with them, but I've simply forgotten. Go figure.)
Now, the priest continued, How many of you have forbidden your children from watching The Passion, because you think it's too violent? My hand remained raised. I don't think I ever forbade him explicitly, but I had consciously not invited him when my wife and I watched it. I am a little put off by Mel Gibson's obsession with the grotesque. By this I mean not the scourging at the pillar, but the demons who torment Judas, the crow that plucks out the wicked thief's eye, and other such fictions. Such gratuitous spiritual violence presents an inaccurate vision of God.
Isn't that interesting? the priest remarked. We'll forbid our children from watching a film because we think it's violent, but not forbid them from reading a story that does violence to our faith.
The homily did not dwell on this; he used it as a plug for a seminar the parish will have on the book and the film. He cited the DaVinci Code and the Gospel of Judas as evidence of a three-pronged attack on our faith, bulding on what I remembered as an excellent Easter homily on that topic.
You may have guessed that I disagree profoundly with the tone, if not with the substance.
If nothing else, it is a self-defeating strategy. Nothing riles people up and encourages them to watch a film so much as denouncing it from the pulpit. It turned them out to watch the Last Temptation of Christ, after all. It also turned them out to watch the Passion of the Christ, although the pulpits condemning the latter film were those of theologians of a completely different stripe.
As for the Gospel of Judas, I see it as an opportunity to faith, not an obstacle. It illustrates that pastors should be familiar with the ancient heresies. They must study a little Gnosticism — from a Christian perspective, rather than that of scholars who rank anything as superior to orthodox Christianity — then instruct their flocks on this idea that recurs with surprising frequency. Every pastor ought to explain simply the ideas that distinguish Gnosticism from genuine Christianity:
...and many others besides. Gnosticism had quite a lot of variety.
With such an education, the faithful can understand the proper place of this so-called Gospel of Judas. They can also see how the Christian Gospel loves this world because it reflects the glory of the God who created it, while the Gnostic Gospel is one that despises it as a shadow created by a false god. Knowing this can lead to virtue, since many Christians suffer under the mistaken understanding that this world is worthless, as only the next life matters.
I'm optimistic that my parish's education session will be a genuine education session in the Christian faith, making use of this opportunity to illumine the hearts of the faithful with God's love. The potential remains that it will exhibit more an attitude of fear and angry opposition to others' ideas, than one of faith and joyful proclamation of the truth. I hoped to attend, because I like to learn things, but I think I've missed it; the date wasn't in the bulletin, and I don't remember it.
My main point, however, is that if Christianity is true, Christians have nothing to fear from the truth. Opposition is not an opportunity for a fight; it's an opportunity to distinguish what we really believe, and what makes it special.
Christianity historically proclaimed that God's glory is reflected in his creation. People won't find that glory in ancient Gnostic texts whose main themes are that the world was not created by the true God, that we have been trapped within it, and that one's task is to free the real self within to achieve personal glory. Neither will people hear it if they only see Christians on the nightly news, condemning the latest spiritual fashion as as failure of modernity. The reality is that Gnosticism is a failure of antiquity.
The reality is that Christians should seek not their own glory, but a share in Christ's infinite glory, the triumph of eternity.
Begun 27 Apr 2006.
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2 comments:
Hurray!
Superb!
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