Terrence Malick’s beautiful 2019 film, “A Hidden Life,” focuses on Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian conscientious objector during World War II. It is a powerful film. There is one scene in which Jägerstätter enters a church and has a conversation with Ohlendorff, a painter who is working on various paintings within the sanctuary. As he works on these paintings of Christ and other biblical figures and images, Ohlendorff says the following to Jägerstätter:
I paint the tombs of the prophets. I help people look up from those pews and dream…
I paint all this suffering but I don’t suffer myself. I make a living of it.
What we do is just create sympathy. We create admirers. We don’t create followers.
Christ’s life is a demand. We don’t want to be reminded of it so we don’t have to see what happens to the truth…
I paint their comfortable Christ, with a halo over His head. How can I show what I haven’t lived? Someday I might have the courage to venture, not yet. Someday I’ll paint the true Christ.
It is a heart-rending scene. It hits me especially hard as a pastor. Am I painting a comfortable Christ? Am I helping in the formation of admirers of the comfortable Christ instead of followers of the suffering Christ?
The painter Ohlendorff declares that he will “someday…paint the true Christ.”
We turn away from the suffering of Christ. Or, more precisely, we turn away from the suffering of Christ except in a transactional sense that benefits us. We do not mind His suffering insofar as it wins us our salvation. But what do we do with His suffering as it challenges our own comfortable lives? What do we do with His cross as a way of life, with His words from Matthew 16:24: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me”?
He “suffered under Pontius Pilate,” the Creed tells us. What are we to make of this? What, in other words, are we to make of the suffering Christ? Why did He suffer and what does that mean for you and for me?