Today I want to tell you about how a look transformed one man’s life. There is actually a good chance that you have seen this look if you’ve seen the movie, “The Passion of the Christ.” I have seen it many times, but only recently heard the story of Pietro Sarubbi, the Italian actor who played Barabbas in the film. Pietro Sarubbi came to the role considering himself an atheist, but in the context of playing a part, his heart was pierced by Christ. It happened while filming the scene between him and Jim Caviezel, who played Jesus in the movie. In the scene, the crowds have just chosen Barabbas instead of Jesus, and Barabbas is flamboyantly reacting, but then comes a crucial moment. Barabbas looks at Jesus and Jesus stares right back at him. It was this look that changed the course of Sarubbi’s life. Even though both he and Jim Caviezel were just playing roles, the look of love and mercy coming through Jim Caviezel’s eyes in that moment changed Sarubbi. In seeing Jim giving life to the merciful gaze of Jesus on Barabbas, Sarubbi was pierced by the mercy of Jesus’ gaze upon himself, an atheist. I want to read you an excerpt of Sarubbi’s own words about the work that he now does:
For about 20 years I’ve been teaching Film Craft at the Civica Film School in Milan, which started out as a simple professional training center but which, in the 50 years of its existence, has become—thanks to an excellent program started by Moratti—a university. There’s a three-year degree in Film Craft, and therefore, improperly, I find myself to be a university lecturer with very lively, curious, intelligent and very technically skilled students.
Even though it is a very secular field, for me it’s a small frontier of Christianity because it allows me to put myself to the test and to be at the service of giving that “extra” of beauty and total effectiveness which, in my opinion, Christian teachers possess. It’s that way of looking at people that allows you to see with the eyes of Christ the student who’s not studying, who has problems, or who is irresolute, and this completely changes the relationship. This way of looking doesn’t go unnoticed, even for young people who are far from faith: It disconcerts them when they see beauty where they were told it shouldn’t be.
At the risk of boring those who already know me, I myself was thrown off balance by that look of which I was just speaking, and here I’m referring to my life-altering participation in Mel Gibson’s film “The Passion of the Christ.” While I was playing Barabbas, the Holy Spirit used one man to look at another man. Now it’s clear to me; it was perturbing and unsettling then.
Later on, I read Benedict XVI’s encyclical “Deus Caritas Est,” in which there’s a phrase that expresses very clearly what had also happened to me: The Lord encounters us ever anew, through the eyes of the men and women who reflect his presence.
This is precisely God’s method: to look at people through the eyes of other people. This explained what was inexplicable to me: I could not imagine that a simple actor playing Jesus could look at me in a way that turned my soul upside-down. From that moment on there was a change in my personal, human, and professional life, because when you’re captivated, you’re captivated in every way.
Think about the people in the crowd who looked at the blind man Bartimeus and simply saw a nuisance. They saw a blind man, an outcast making a scene, and they immediately wrote him off. They tried to silence him. Their unmerciful gaze led them to be a hindrance to this poor man coming to Jesus for healing. Here is the great irony: the blind man can see better than the sighted people looking at him. His heart is open to recognize the merciful gaze of Jesus, so he has the strength to persevere and seek Him despite the discouragement of those around him. He is blind but can see clearly. Those who are trying to silence him can see with their physical eyes, but their actions reveal their inner blindness, that refusal to see the merciful gaze of Jesus. They look at this man not with the loving and merciful gaze of Jesus, but with their own eyes of harsh rejection.
It takes Jesus stopping along His way and forcefully instructing them to “call him” that changes their attitude. Perhaps in that moment, Jesus’ gaze of mercy upon them in their lack of mercy helps them to have a change of heart and begin to open their inner selves to his gaze. This seems to be the case based on their outward actions. They go from words of rebuke to words of encouragement: “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.” Aren’t those words that each of us needs to hear in our suffering and sin? How many of us have been touched by someone looking at us with the merciful gaze of Jesus?
How can we become the people, who as Pope Benedict XVI put so beautifully, reflect the presence of Jesus by our gaze? The opportunity is there for us every time we come to Mass or Adoration, because in the Eucharist, you can encounter that merciful gaze of the Risen Jesus. As we gaze upon Jesus in the Eucharist, He gazes back upon us. Look at Jesus when I say those beautiful words of St. John the Baptist, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the word. Blessed are those called to the Supper of the Lamb.” In that moment when you behold Him, He beholds you as well. He looks at you with that gaze of mercy, knowing your sin and loving you with Divine Love. His gaze calls you to His Wedding Banquet. Allow His gaze to pierce you in that moment, because each day you will have the opportunity to pass along Jesus’ gaze to those in your life, to tell them by your words, actions and example: “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”
+ Heavenly Father, thank you for so loving the world that You gave us your only begotten Son! Jesus, our Risen Savior, help us to reflect Your gaze of mercy in our lives. Holy Spirit, open the eyes of our hearts to recognize Jesus in the people we encounter, especially those who are difficult for us to love. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen. +