Saturday, October 9, 2010

Agora

The film Agora is a historical drama centered on the life and death of the Alexandrian philosopher Hypatia, who was murdered by a mob of monks in the year 415. As with most historical films, it is not very historical. What I mean is, real facts are few and yield place to dramatic presentation and whatever the writers and producers have in mind to portray. This film can be seen as a bit of anti-Christian propaganda, but I don’t think it was a calculated and concerted effort, as much as probably a summary of disappointments with and criticisms of contemporary ‘public’ Christianity. Coming out at a time when militant and violent Islam has reshaped the face of earthly security, some might see it as a cinematic equivalent of, “Christians are just as bad as Muslims, if not worse.”

Human history all over the planet is nothing less than tragic, and whether or not the film is truthful, at least some of the core events that it alludes to really did happen. They were, are, and always will be a blight on the historic road of Christianity. I am a historian, and I enjoyed the film but also know that it’s only a movie, not real history. I am a Christian, but I was not insulted or offended by it. As a bicycle-riding school boy, I was already teaching myself Greek and Hebrew in junior high, and I handled my first copy of A Treasury of Early Christianity by Anne Fremantle as a 50 cent paperback. It was there that I first read about ‘the murder of Hypatia’ at a time before I even understood what it meant to be a Christian. I was appalled by what I read.

I had decided early on in my life that what people do or did or were likely to do as ‘Christians’ would not deter me from finding out if there was a real God, or if Jesus Christ was His Son and our Savior. I admit I wanted to believe this was true, because I wanted to honor my parents and ancestors and not disappoint them of their hopes for Christian offspring, but not at the expense of truth. As it turned out, for me it wasn’t a matter of thinking my way, or studying my way, into a commitment to a religion, even if it might be Christianity. It was God’s mercy that He sought me, and revealed Himself to me, not as Christianity, but as Christ, a person, not a religion. I guess that’s why I am not offended by those who defame Christianity or even blaspheme Christ. I just witness, and I wait.

One element in the film which I think has some truth to it because I see it even today, is the touchiness, the willingness to take offense, that Christians showed to the pagans. If it’s happening now, then it probably happened then. I’m not surprised when the world takes offense, because that is its nature, but it still surprises, and disappoints, me that Christians let themselves take offense. My study of history has shown me that this has been one of the main causes of warfare among Christians from day one. Here again, where this history gives some people an excuse and an escape from the call of Christ, it doesn’t have this effect on me. I know that the call of Christ, if it is accepted, and if it is followed up, draws us in His footsteps. The disciple can only do what he sees the Master doing.

Another element in the film was the very graphic and explicit depiction of Christians performing immoral actions. One scene in particular struck me this way. A riot was in progress. Pagans were slaughtering Christians in the ‘agora’ or marketplace of Alexandria. An armed pagan who was mowing down Christians sees a young pagan standing by, doing nothing. He yells at him to kill the Christians, but the boy doesn’t respond. Finally, the boy quietly says, ‘I am a Christian,’ apparently coming out publicly at last. Then the armed pagan lunges at him. Somehow the boy kills him, maybe with his own dagger. When the pagan collapses at his feet, the boy looks stunned, then notices the aged philosopher Theon, father of Hypatia, nearby. This time he yells at him, ‘I am a Christian’ and picks up a stick and starts beating him with it.

For me, as a follower of Jesus, this is something that just doesn’t seem possible, yet I know that historically it is. People who say they are Christians have committed unspeakable crimes, against pagans, against Jews, against Muslims, against native peoples all over the world. First, the missionaries come, then the soldiers, sometimes the other way round, but always, it seems, the natives get the short end of the stick. This is my reading of history, yet the same can be said of every ‘religious’ group. The Christians were persecuted by the ancient pagans, the Jews, the Muslims, the Hindus, the Buddhists, and even by each other! The Jews were persecuted by the Greeks, the Romans, the Christians, the Muslims, and even by each other! The Muslims were persecuted by… The Hindus were persecuted by… The Buddhists were persecuted by… It just goes on and on, and proves nothing but that human beings are ruthless, violent, selfish and, in a word, depraved.

One more thing, and then I think I’ve meandered enough. The patriarch Cyril is shown using bible texts to personally attack Hypatia, to set up her coming assassination as it were, and to force the public compliance with his autocratic will. Orestes is the only one who, though a Christian, does not bend the knee to prove he believes in the Word of God. Why? Because he knows that it is a political set up, to get him to publicly renounce his friendship with her. How much of this is historical is probably very little. All we know is that Hypatia and Orestes were close friends. The film, however, points out another obvious characteristic of ‘false’ but nevertheless ‘practical’ Christianity: The abuse of Holy Scripture for unscrupulous ends, sometimes for wholly immoral ends.

As Sergey Fudel writes in his book, Light in the Darkness, the crimes that seem to be committed by the Church are actually crimes against the Church, against the Body of Christ, against Christ Himself. For this reason a follower of Jesus knows that they cannot touch him, harm him, or offend him, because Christ is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and nothing that happens outside this can in any way separate him from the love of Christ. Films like Agora, just like everything in the world, can have both a good and a bad effect, depending on the ones affected. Those who are looking for faith can find it strengthened in knowing that ‘not by power, nor by might, but by My Spirit’ is the truth. Those who are looking for doubt can find it bolstered in seeing fantasy and wanting to believe it.

For those whom the Father is drawing to the Son, even all things do His bidding, in bringing them home.

Eγω ειμι, μη φοβεισθε.


It is I; do not be afraid.
John 6:20


The following post, written before I watched this film, deals with, surprisingly, a similar situation: A modern Christian destroys a "work of art" that she finds blasphemous. It certainly is, but how does God Himself act when He is blasphemed?

2 comments:

yudikris said...

Very illustrative snapshots, Dad... Thanks for telling us wisdom of how to respond appropriately toward the world's critique on Christianity --even when it's seemed as just religion (but it's simply not, but beyond that).

Anonymous said...

A very thoughtful essay. Most Christian blogs I've read see this film as a direct attack. I saw Agora when it first came out in NYC and loved Weisz' performance as Hypatia. As you point out, Amenabar took liberties with history and the history of science in his effort to portray (in his opinion) a larger truth. But that's what artists do. Agora isn't a documentary.

For people who want to know about the historical Hypatia, I recommend a biography titled Hypatia of Alexandria by Maria Dzielska (Harvard University Press, 1995.) I also have a series of "reel vs. real" posts on my blog exploring the history behind the film.