Passion

Michele Vella

March 1, 2004

Susana Bailon, 26, remembers being surrounded by images of the passion or the crucifixion of Christ since she was a little girl. Her mother placed a cross with a porcelain figure of Christ adorned with a crown of thorns, dripping with blood and covered with cuts on every inch of his body above the kitchen table and in the family room. Each year during the Easter season, the nuns at her Catholic and predominantly Hispanic elementary school gave the children a photocopied black and white image of Christ. They instructed them to color in the crown of thorns and the bleeding gashes on his face and body. Even at church, Bailon's parish community devoted itself to the image of the crucified Christ. Women, men and children kneeled at both sides of the altar to kiss the feet of the ceramic, life-size statues of Christ immediately before and after his crucifixion. One statue showed Christ with spatters of blood apparent on the wooden cross he carried. The other statue showed a ghostly pale Christ in his mother's arms replete with blood, slashes, holes in his feet and hands and black and blue marks. Raised in an Ecuadorian household, these images were an integral part of Bailon's culture and understanding of Catholicism. In her predominately Hispanic community in Pennsylvania, there was nothing romanticized about the crucifixion.

Bailon brought this same religious and cultural context with her on opening night of Mel Gibson's, The Passion of the Christ. "The crucifixion of Christ always meant suffering for me," said Bailon waiting in line with two Catholic friends, Jillian, 26, and Henry, 28. Jillian and Henry had a different understanding of the passion. For them, the crucifixion went hand in hand with the resurrection -- a more Protestant interpretation of Christ's death. "To me the crucifixion means new life, God's forgiveness of our sins through the sacrifice of his only son," said Jillian. "Jesus death means new life," concurred Henry. Jillian and Henry would both racially identify themselves as Caucasian. They grew up in predominantly Caucasian communities in Connecticut and New Jersey.

The official doctrine of the Catholic Church written in, The Catechism of the Catholic Church, defines the crucifixion as "Jesus tasting death" and "Jesus experiencing the condition of death." In the sacrament of Baptism, Catholics are called to share in Christ's death. The Catechism says that the "Catholic must descend into the tomb of Christ and die to sin with Christ in order to receive new life." In the sacrament of the Eucharist or Holy Communion, Catholics believe they literally eat and drink the body and blood of Christ. So why then, could Susana Bailon's interpretation of the crucifixion as being inextricably linked to suffering contrast so sharply with Jillian and Henry's interpretation of the crucifixion as resurrection when they are all Catholics?

Father Greg pastor of a catholic church in New York with a majority Hispanic membership says it's a matter of culture. He understands why Catholic Hispanics identify with the suffering Christ.

"Many Hispanics come from extremely poor countries where food is not always available and economic hardships are part of an everyday reality," said Father Greg. "They understand suffering."

Father Greg believes there is no greater symbol of suffering than the flayed Christ. He adds that Hispanics also seem to be more in communion with the idea of death -- culturally they don't shy away from it. In many Hispanic countries, for instance, All Saints Day or "El dia de los muertos" is celebrated with people dressed in death masks and skeleton costumes parading the streets. Children suck on lollipops made in the shape of skeletal heads. Families visit the gravesites of loved ones who passed and bring the dead their favorite foods. During the Easter season, they bring this same reverence for the dead and their identification with the suffering Christ to liturgical celebrations. On Good Friday, they come to the Church to kiss the wounds on Jesus' feet and hands. On Holy Saturday, the day Jesus lay in the tomb, they come to church to express condolences to the Virgin Mary, suffering because of the death of her son.

Father James is pastor of a predominately Caucasian community in Pennsylvania. He says that for many of his parishioners, the suffering Christ is an all too distant reality.

"They see the crucified image of Christ in the church, but they don't necessarily feel in union with the suffering of his death," said Father James. "Coming from an upper to middleclass household, you don't have to think about some of the most basic sufferings that poor people whose basic necessities aren't met, have to deal with."

Even though they share in Christ's death during every Eucharistic celebration, Father James' community tends to link Christ's death more with resurrection than with suffering.

"It's kind of like when your watching the world news, you see the images of dead man lying in the street after a bombing or a starving child dying of hunger but that suffering is so alien and removed from your world that you can't identify with it," said Father James.

Henry looked away at the most grisly parts of The Passion. At the end of the movie, he commented that he was upset that Gibson only spent a fraction of a second on the resurrection -- the image of Christ kneeling in the cave, standing up with wounds from being nailed to the cross. Jillian cried, especially astonished at the sight of Christ's ribs after being whipped. "I knew Christ was crucified, of course, but I never deeply thought about the physical torture he endured," said Jillian. Susan Bailon said "I am happy that Mel Gibson did not show a romanticized version of Christ's death. I think some people want the sugar-coated version without the gore and without the blood. His crucifixion just wasn't that way."

(Updated April 29, 2004)