When I first met Dwight Longenecker in 1999 I already thought his life story was unique.
The setting was an international journalism conference in Chichester, England. Longenecker was working in journalism at the time, after studying theology at Oxford University. He had already been ordained as an Anglican priest, but then saw the writing on the ancient church walls and swam the Tiber to Roman Catholicism.
But here’s the biographical detail that grabbed me. I was fascinated that, after growing up evangelical in Pennsylvania, he had done his undergraduate work at Bob Jones University in Greenville, S.C. — America’s famous campus that proudly embraces the loaded term “fundamentalist.”
From BJU to England and on to Rome! What a journey, I thought. And people said my pilgrimage from Southern Baptist preacher’s kid to Eastern Orthodoxy was unusual.
But there was one more remarkable shoe to drop in the Longenecker story. In 2006 he returned to America with his wife and four children and — taking the Pastoral Provision door opened by Pope John Paul II (now a saint) — Longenecker was ordained as a Catholic priest.
So where is he now? He is the pastor of Our Lady of the Rosary Catholic Church in — wait for it — Greenville, S.C., a few miles from his old BJU stomping grounds. So the Catholic priest who is “in charge” of Bob Jones territory (long ago, the founder called Catholicism a “Satanic cult”) is a BJU graduate.
Now, I offered all of that as an intro to our think piece for this Easter Sunday (for Western churches). It’s a blog post by Longenecker entitled “The Passion of the Christ, me and Mel Gibson” that includes a fascinating detail about what many consider the most beautiful image in that controversial movie (click here for his “Standing on my head” website).
The key: Longenecker, as a journalist, did quite a bit of writing about film. Thus, he ended up in one of those famous advance screenings with Gibson — who showed a rough edit to a variety of religious audiences while raising money to independently release the film. After showing this early version of his movie, Gibson came out to take questions from the small crowd. Then this happened:
I put up my hand, “Mr Gibson, I appreciated the way you referenced famous Catholic artwork in the film. Was that intentional or was I imagining things?”
“It was intentional. We spent a lot of time working out every shot to reference the great tradition of Catholic art.” He then explained that the reason the dialogue was in Latin, Hebrew and Aramaic was so the film would function at a visceral level as a moving icon of the passion. Cool.
I then asked a follow up. “I wonder if you had thought of referencing that famous crucifixion by Salvador Dali in which Christ is seen from above, as if from heaven?”
Gibson answered, “No, but that’s interesting.”
Longenecker noted that a friend who was with him told Gibson that it would have been interesting if the film had included some kind of visual “reference to God the Father’s grief at the death of his Son.”
Gibson, apparently, stashed away detailed notes on these subjects and added new material to his movie. Thus:
… (A)bout a year later when the movie came out Steve called me, “Dwight, have you seen Mel’s movie?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Well you should go see it. Our scenes were included.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just go see it. You’ll see.”
Sure enough. Right after our Lord breathes his last the camera zooms away and up into the heavens and the crucifixion is seen as if from above. Then one drop (like a teardrop) falls from the sky and splashes to earth and the great storm begins and the rain falls.
Now, let me add one more thing about film making, film criticism and journalism.
This Longenecker anecdote reminded me of something that happened during the press screenings, and interviews, linked to “The Return of the King” — the grand finale of Peter Jackson’s epic “The Lord of the Rings” trilogy.
During a round-table session in what Jackson started calling the “God room” — with a circle of critics from religious publications (and me as a religion-beat columnist) — writer Steven D. Greydanus of DecentFilms.com asked the director about the final scenes in the film. Was Jackson familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien’s concept of the “Eucatastrophe” — a “glorious destruction” that brings both sorrow and joy, both pain and release?
Jackson admitted that he had never heard that term. He listened closely and, as he left the room, pulled an aide over and told him that they would need to address this subject — and other questions raised in the “God room” — in extra video features that would accompany the extended edition of the movie.
Sure enough, he did.
So what’s my point?
I think that — when dealing with ultimate subjects with strong religious themes — filmmakers need to have more discussions with critics, writers and even directors who “get religion,” to one degree or another. The results could only help the movies and build ties of understanding between artists and a large audience in American life and culture.
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