I converted to Catholicism in 1978--about four years after I left The Family. Since I still had a lot of unresolved issues about being "sold out," I became a super catholic--I even made private vows as a secular Franciscan sister in 1982 and completed my undergraduate degree in literature, philosophy, and theology at a catholic women's college in 1988.
Shortly thereafter I began preparing for a career in lay pastoral ministry and enrolled in a MA/Theology program. I dropped out of the RC church in 1992 as a consequence of a priest pedophile case that directly impacted my work as a youth minister.
So, I put in a good 14 years as a very, very serious catholic christian. In all honesty, what that means is that my personal christian faith journey was polluted by some very toxic levels of neurotic guilt. How did that happen?
There is a spiritual tradition in the RC church that Mel Gibston has bought into BIG TIME, and that particular tradition is very fixated on the suffering (passion) and death of Jesus. Underlying that fixation is a boatload of neurotic guilt that says, "I deserve to suffer like that. It should have been me. What can I do? I need to suffer, too."
Gibson's fixation on the passion is why catholics are identified by the crucifix--the emphasis is on the suffering corpus (body) of Christ, rather than resurrection. When it finally dawned on me that the high point of my spiritual life wasn't about going through 40 days of lenten penance--fasting, self-denial, meditation on the sufferings of Christ--and that the 40 days of the Resurrection to Ascention were what knowing and walking with the Christ of faith is all about for me--WHAT A LIBERATION!
I personally have a lot of trouble with graphic depictions of violence and bodily injury. I was nearly killed in an auto accident in 1985 (at the peak of my catholic fervor and religious piety). As a consequence of being rear-ended and pushed into the path of an oncoming semi truck, I experienced two broken femurs, a broken neck, a broken left wrist, and a crushed left foot. To this day, I walk with a limp. I just don't enjoy watching bodies get broken, beaten, torn apart, blood splattering all around, etc. It comes too close to home--not fun, not entertaining, absolutely no catharsis of emotion in it for me. Just a lot of painful, uncomfortable feelings that won't stop.
At the time of my accident, I found encouragement and hope in the belief that I could enter into the sufferings of Christ and somehow assauge my neurotic guilt. I could "do" something with my pain by offering it up in prayer for the salvation of sinners (myself included).
Guilt, guilt, guilt. That is what comes up for me when I consider the passion of Christ in the Mel Gibson/Katherine Emmerich tradition. Not hope, not resurrection, not rebirth, not a new creature--just, "What can I do to alleviate this terrible sense of guilt?" To me, this is what is at the heart of a spirituality that focuses on a graphic depiction of crucifixion.
I was listening to a theologian who has previewed Gibson's movie talk about his impressions during a TV interview. Something he said struck home: If you read the gospels, there is relatively little in the account of Jesus' death that goes into graphic details about the physical suffering. The real details in the narrative are concerned with relationships, particularly the betrayals by various disciples. The most poignant parts of the narrative--the agony in the garden, for example--revolve around relationships--the utter cluenessness and insensitivity of Jesus' closest friends at the hour of death.
In order for Gibson to focus so heavily on the passion--the physical suffering--he had to base his screenplay on extra-biblical sources, primarily the visionary meditations of the stigmatic nun Katherine Emmerich. During the height of my catholic neurotic guilt, I ate this sort of stuff up.
Why has Gibson decided to focus on giving the audience a graphic depiction of the physical suffering and (perhaps) failed to meditate on the existential issues of abandonment, betrayal, and loss? Maybe because Gibson's catholicism is of that toxically guilt-laden sort that wants to provoke the audience into asking, "What can I do?"
This is a very different sort question than asking, "Where is my Lord?--Where can I find and meet face-to-face with the Risen One in my life journey?" In my mind, this sort of question is about "how can I BE with him"....not, "what can I DO for him." Like the gospel lesson of Mary & Martha, I think the "being with him" question actually seeks the better part of discipleship.