Adapted from the television mini-series called The
Bible, the feature film Son of God hit theaters
last month. Most film critics were disappointed, noting redeeming moments in
the film but concluding it failed cinematically. Among Christians, the response
was notably mixed. Some hailed it as moving and inspirational. Others expressed
frustration at the largely white cast and concern that the film commercializes
Jesus.
Personally, I
thought Son of God had its moments. I enjoyed seeing Mary Magdalene front and
center with the disciples. Fleshing out Barabbas helped portray the Jewish
expectation of a Messiah. But I, too, was bothered by the casting, and at times
the film’s marketing felt like Jesus was being used to advance an agenda.
But the greatest
weakness of the film was, as Matt Page puts it at 1MoreFilmBlog, “it doesn’t really have anything to say about Jesus… Jesus
performs a few miracles, utters the odd wise saying and is nice to the
marginalized and disempowered, but both his life and his death seem oddly stripped
of any real meaning.”
There’s mention
of a “kingdom,” a “message” and “work” to be done, but, as Peter Chattaway notes at the National Catholic
Register, “the film is
vague on the specifics.”
As I pondered this flaw, I couldn’t help but wonder if it
didn’t reflect back some of the weaknesses in our own understanding of the
gospel.
In The King Jesus
Gospel, New Testament scholar (and Anabaptist) Scot McKnight says that the
gospel “no longer means in our world what it originally meant to Jesus or the
apostles.” He suggests our tendency to focus on personal salvation—while a key aspect
and fruit of the gospel—limits our understanding of the good news and salvation.
The gospel, says McKnight “is locked into one people, one
history, and one Scripture: it makes sense only as it follows and completes the
Story of Israel.” In other words, we need to know the Story of Israel and
Jesus’ place in it to have a good handle on the gospel.
At the core of that Story is God’s work to establish a vibrant,
redemptive, God-centered Kingdom of his people on Earth—an image that saturates
Scripture from beginning to end.
That Story begins with humanity ruling a good creation in healthy
relationship with each other and God. When they rebel, everything breaks. But God
has a plan to set it right. He chooses a people—first Abraham, then Israel and
kings—to govern redemptively on his behalf.
But they fail, notes McKnight, so God sends his Son to do
what they could not and to rescue everyone from sin and evil. Jesus is the
Messiah and King who will rule at the center of God’s Kingdom, whose citizens
will be transformed to embody God in a new society or ecclesia—one that will bear witness to and live out God’s rule on
earth.
Son of God hints
at this larger Story in its prologue, showing scenes from throughout Israel’s
history. But, as Page puts it, “Ultimately,
it’s unclear why [Jesus’] story is the conclusion to all those that have gone
before.”
And while the film hints at a counter-culture Kingdom, it
fails to flesh out a vision of this redemptive, restoring Kingdom that would
manifest as the church. As such, it also fails to articulate the holistic work
the gospel propels Kingdom citizens into: “loving God, loving self, loving
others and loving the world,” as McKnight puts it.
In the context of this larger Story, Jesus’ message and
Kingdom find meaning. If we want to tell the good news of Jesus—on the big
screen or in our communities—we need to remember that.
This post is a slightly longer version of a column that ran in the March 17 issue of MWR.