The Theology of the Passion of the Christ

by Monica Migliorino Miller

Alba House, 2005

200 pages, $14.95

To order: (800) 343-2522 or alba-house.com

Here’s an accessible exploration of the biblical basis and spiritual writings that underlay the Mel Gibson film. (Skip this review if you have to ask, “Which Mel Gibson film?”)

Monica Migliorino Miller, an associate professor of sacred theology at St. Mary’s College of Madonna University in Orchard Lake, Mich., “sets an example of exactly what the Pope means in calling for ‘a renewal of the fruitful dialogue’ between the Church and the arts,” notes Barbara Nicolosi, Catholic screenwriter and Register columnist, in the introduction.

It will be plain to even casual readers that Miller, who holds a degree in theater arts, is a fan of the movie. “The Passion is a religious meditation — celluloid is simply the medium,” she writes.

Her work here primarily addresses the theological ramifications of the film but she also includes a chapter on the movie’s sources and a one on the reactions it has engendered, along with an appendix that includes comparisons to other movies about Christ.

Miller focuses on several key points: Mary’s role in Christ’s passion, the biblical basis of Gibson’s Passion, charges of anti-Semitism against the movie, and Gibson’s reliance on the writings of mystic and stigmatic Anne Catherine Emmerich.

“The Passion is a rare film because it is truly theological in the classical sense,” she writes. “The word ‘theology’ means study of God. Classical, authentic theology is faith seeking understanding — or intellectual worship.”

The book’s most powerful chapters deal with Mary’s role as interpreted by Gibson. Her weakest moment comes in the honest admission that Emmerich’s visions exhibit at least one anti-Semitic moment and her tepid explanation that even mystics are a product of their age.

“The contributions Emmerich makes to Gibson’s 21st-century movie cannot be over-emphasized,” Miller writes, adding that she does not believe Emmerich was anti-Semitic. “There is very little in Emmerich’s visions [indicating] that she believed in or defended the collective guilt of the Jews,” she writes.

Miller’s chapter dealing with Mary’s role in Christ’s passion demonstrates in an especially thought-provoking way that Gibson’s view of Mary is radically different from that of previous filmmakers — most of whom portrayed Mary as an overwhelmed, essentially passive bystander.

“Mary, in the Gibson film, is the only other character besides Christ who actually sees Satan,” Miller points out. “Mary alone sees the Devil. Their eyes meet. The moment of the ancient enmity has arrived.

“Mary is there to support her son, even to protect him and to aid him in his salvific task,” she continues. “Indeed, almost as soon as Mary sees the Evil One she turns her attention back to Jesus, almost as if she were aware of the danger to her son by the presence of Satan. It is then that Mary asks John to find a way to bring her closer to Christ.”

This understanding of Mary as active in the redemption of the world is more consistent with Catholic doctrine than the helpless icons of most previous film interpretations.

 The Theology of the Passion of the Christ adds to our understanding and appreciation of the movie and, in doing so, helps illuminate aspects of Jesus’ passion and death for us.

Which is to say that, heading into Holy Week, it’s an ideal read.

Valerie Schmalz writes from

San Francisco.