| Sunny Side Up April 7, 2004 � 2004, Kathleen Gibson Declaring this Gibson's passion I am a woman of evangelical faith. I know what I believe about God, and I'm not afraid to encourage others to trust in the Jesus I love. That's what Mel Gibson did with his movie 'The Passion of the Christ.' Few evangelical efforts have told the story of Easter as effectively. "Jesus, your name has power," we evangelicals sing. Life-changing power: after viewing the movie, a murderer turned himself in. And a bank robber, who'd long evaded capture, walked directly to a police station and did the same. In the popular musical, 'My Fair Lady,' Freddy tells Eliza that he loves her. She counters by singing, "Don't give me words�show me!" That scene haunts me. From those who declare their love for him, God asks something more than a private belief, or a few words, however fine. In making 'The Passion,' Mel Gibson unequivocally demonstrated his love for Christ, publicly and concretely. I applaud his courage. His professional life may never be the same. That challenge to give God more than words was equally mine. It took me to the state of Andhra Pradesh, India. There, repeatedly, (I'm embarrassed to say this) God surprised me by proving true everything I've ever believed about him and the power of his resurrected Son. Here's one example: It happened in one of the primitive villages where the mission team I worked with for a short time had been assigned. Our assignment? Talk to villagers about Jesus. He rushed at me, a drunken, demented, or demon possessed man-I don't know which-and wouldn't let me pass. Just stood there a foot or two from me, pulling at his clothes, shifting and ranting in a threatening sort of way. The villagers stood around, taunting him, waiting to see what I would do. Even my translator, Vijay, fell silent. Let me tell you how I usually handle extreme fear. Years ago my teenaged nephew, in horrid costume, leaped out at me as a joke. It happened late at night, outside. I thought I screamed bloody murder. My sister says I peeped three times. Then my legs buckled and I melted in a terrified heap on the grass. But that cloudless day in India God gave this prairie chicken something I've never had: boldness. I walked forward, placed my hand on the man's shoulder, and prayed aloud that in the name of Jesus whatever was plaguing him would leave, and that he would be at peace. The man quieted instantly. Turned and walked meekly away, as did the villagers. Vijay and I carried on. In that context, it seemed a rather ordinary occurrence, and I hardly thought twice about it. We didn't even mention it later, Vijay and I. It's only since my return home that I've had time to reflect on what really happened there. There's powerful stuff surrounding the man who died on a cross and was resurrected three days later. That's what 'The Passion' is about. And this Gibson wants you to know: That's my passion too. You can respond to this column at [email protected] |
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