Some Thoughts on Biblical Adaptations
"The Christian is the one whose imagination should fly beyond the stars."
A little late is better than never, and so I’m getting this out on the very last day of the month! Forgive me for my slothfulness, as I haven’t had much time as of late to sit down and work through these ideas on the page, though I am elated to get back into it.
This edition contains some exciting news, both personal and professional, as well as an extension of some ideas I’ve been mulling over for the past few weeks. I apologize in advance as this is quite long, but I invite you to enjoy at your leisure!
Back in November, I wrote about the art of adaptation and how to adapt something essentially means to “make (something) suitable for a new use or purpose; modify.” This was, by no means, an exhaustive look at adaptations, though there is something to be said about the clear differences between a good or a bad adaptation.
By definition, an adaptation implies a change. This change can be in the art form or style of a work, or it can shift the entire perspective of the original to something new. An epic poem like Beowulf may be adapted into a feature-length film, with specific changes made to address the new medium. These changes may include adding dialogue, creating drama, or trimming (or extending) certain sequences. On the other hand, a television series may get rebooted decades later as a new program entirely, yet barely resemble the original except perhaps in its basic premise.
There is a wide range when it comes to adaptations. There are plenty of good films, books, paintings, and songs that adapt original works of art masterfully. There are also an untold number of bad ones that remove what made the original special, unique, or accurate, either to history or authorial intent.
This can become even trickier when it comes to Bible-related adaptations.
Adapting stories from the Old and New Testaments is already a tricky thing because your main audience, religious people, will either give you too much grace or none at all. There are expectations that must be met and ideas that need to come across. Some will write off Bible adaptations immediately, citing the second commandment1 as enough reason to mark and avoid.
In his essay “Art in the Bible,” Francis A. Schaeffer used scripture itself to defend God’s love of art. Good art, that is. Schaeffer notes that Leviticus 26:1 expands on the second commandment by emphasizing that the ban against making of “graven images” was specific to worship. “The commandment is not against making art,” Schaeffer argues, “but against worshipping anything other than God and specifically against worshipping art. To worship art is wrong, but to make art is not.”
This freedom that artists are given extends even to adaptations of the biblical narratives we find in scripture. Of course, because the Bible is more than a simple story or historical account (indeed, it is the Word of God), there is far more pressure when it comes to adapting these stories for other mediums than, say, retelling the life of Alexander the Great or Abraham Lincoln. Indeed, movies, shows, and other art forms often get historical details wrong about their subjects, but Bible adaptations are often (and rightfully so) held to a much higher standard of excellence.
In my opinion, there are three main things to consider when watching, reading, or otherwise enjoying a biblical adaptation:
Does this work understand the authorial intent of the original story?
Do the changes made emphasize the themes expressed in scripture or distract from them?
Does this work glorify God?
When we ask and answer these questions, I believe we’re well on our way to better appreciating, understanding, and discerning the art that we view, especially when it comes to art that pulls directly from scripture.
Does this work understand the authorial intent of the original story?
In the process of creating art, whether its making a movie, writing a novel, or painting, it is the artist who decides how the finished work comes together. Even if there are others involved in the work — such as actors, writers, editors, musicians, etc. — there is most often one or two artists ultimately responsible for how the project plays out. Their intent with the story matters, but when it is released into the world, it is the audience who now has control over what they take and glean from the original work, regardless of intent.
This is not true of scripture.
Yes, we can all pull different things out of the Bible. There are plenty of theological, philosophical, and eschatological debates that rage, even two-thousand years after Christ. Yet, because God is the ultimate author behind His Word (inspiring the 40-something human authors who wrote it down), His authorial intent is far more important than any interpretation we may have. This is why we Christians consider the Bible sacred, and base our lives on the teachings within it. If something comes from God, it does not matter how one feels about that thing, it only matters how you respond to it.
When it comes to adaptations of biblical stories, it is crucial that those working on said adaptations take into account the point that God is trying to make with them. In the same way that Jesus made deep, theological statements with his parables, so too do the historical accounts recorded in scripture ultimately reveal something about the nature of God, the nature of man, and/or how to reconcile them.
Take The Death of Abel (or Cain Slays Abel) by Gustave Doré, for example. This piece was commissioned for the 1843 French translation of the Latin Vulgate Bible, along with over 100 other works, all simply brilliant in their form and execution. Here, the artist depicts the events of Genesis 4:8-9 in a single wood-carving. It gets the biblical events right here. Abel lays dead on the ground as Cain stands over him, the murder weapon in his hand.
Because there are so few details in Genesis that describe the landscape, Cain and Abel’s attire, or anything else about this event, Doré had to invent the context for his artwork to take place in. We see that the artist adds a storm in the background, with lightning flashing through the darkness. While we do not know if it was storming the day Cain killed his brother, it’s clear that this was an artistic expression meant to represent God’s anger toward Cain over Abel’s murder, which is surely in step with the narrative.
The one change that Doré seems to make to the story here is the location. Genesis 4:8 recounts that Cain brought Abel to a field to kill him, and this doesn’t look much like a field at all. One could argue that it is the far edge of a field, but it’s not really clear.
But does this change the authorial intent? Does this change the words that God inspired Moses to write down? Does this change the story?
Well, no. One might consider this change an “artistic liberty”2 in the same way that Doré took liberties with Cain and Abel’s features and appearance. We can still tell what is going on, we still know who is Cain and who is Abel, and it is still clear that God is displeased with the events that have taken place. The story is still accurately told.
Let’s look at another example. Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ is an impressive motion picture. It is the highest-grossing independent film of all time, and was the highest-grossing R-rated film in the U.S. for 20 years.3 To say that The Passion made an impact on Hollywood and many who watched it would be an understatement. In the spirit of Old Hollywood adaptations like The Ten Commandments, Gibson explores the biblical epic with care, largely emphasizing the commitment of Jesus Christ to the mission God placed Him on, despite the physical horrors He would endure.
The Passion takes a lot of creative liberties. There’s a moment while Jesus is carrying the cross that he is followed by Satan, who holds some sort of strange Antichrist child that mocks Christ as he suffers on his way to Golgotha. It adds characters like Saint Veronica and arguably over-emphasizes the importance of Mary to this entire scene. On those grounds, the film may alienate many non-Catholics, and perhaps rightfully so.
Despite this, Gibson excels at displaying the true horrors of Roman crucifixion, and for that reason, many consider it worth watching. Yes, Gibson embellished on the Gospel accounts with Catholic tradition (and the “visions” of Anne Catherine Emmerich, who inspired The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ). However, it’s in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ that this film’s full intent is understood.
If one can get past the overtly Catholic nature of it all4, The Passion of the Christ indeed gets the point of the story and is able to depict the hell that Jesus endured at the hands of the Romans in a way scripture itself can’t.
This is not to say that the Bible is insufficient for our needs regarding Jesus’ death. That would be preposterous. But to see with one’s own eyes the excruciating nature of Jesus’ death, to see His blood flow out of Him as He is beaten, tortured, and nailed to the wood, that is something else entirely. Clearly, this was Gibson’s intent.
“I expect Christians to come out of this movie in an introspective mood,” Gibson noted in 2004. “It is among the tenets of my faith that Jesus died for the sins of mankind.” This is the message of the film, and it rings true through the hyper-violent nature of Jesus’ death. It also matches with the authorial intent of scripture. All four Gospel accounts emphasize different elements of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, and The Passion of the Christ highlights the violence of that death specifically. Frankly, it puts it into our 21st century perspective just how brutal the 1st century was.
In this sense, I would consider the film largely in step with the biblical account, and certainly the Gospel itself.5 While we need to be discerning of any extra-biblical content (art perhaps especially), that does not mean it must all be thrown out or deemed a violation.
In contrast, a film like Darren Aronofsky’s Noah simply does not understand or honor the authorial intent of scripture. Not only does the film make Noah out to be a crazy person, but it also makes gross changes to the actual events themselves, such as involving fallen angels in Noah’s building of the ark. Seriously.
The film also explores the idea that fallen angels who once rebelled against God may not actually be so bad, and perhaps can even be redeemed. Yet, this goes against not only what the Bible teaches, but the entire account of Noah and the Flood recorded in Genesis 6. Of course, what is one to expect when the story of Noah is told by someone who does not hold the Bible in high regard…
Do the changes made emphasize the themes expressed in the original work or distract from them?
One of the things that I love most about The Prince of Egypt is the music. “The Plagues” is an epic battle of perspectives as Moses and Ramses stand on opposite sides of these horrific events, while “Deliver Us” is a deep, heartfelt call to repentance and faith as the people of Israel cry out for God. “Through Heaven’s Eyes” offers a magical perspective on life and eternity — and it’s just incredibly fun to dance to with my girls. Yet, although the music in The Prince of Egypt is phenomenal (and the film itself is a triumph of animation), it is still a change from the biblical story of Moses.
This medium allows for information to be conveyed through song, moving the plot along quickly. It is also used to emphasize the character’s distinct perspectives and worldviews. Nobody considers The Prince of Egypt a poor adaptation of the Exodus story because it includes a musical element. It adds character and delights the soul. But that is not the only thing about Moses that the film changes.
The Prince of Egypt frames Moses and his future nemesis (here named Ramses, though it’s debatable if he was truly the Pharaoh of Moses’ day) as brothers, with Moses unaware of his Hebrew heritage until far later in life. Early on, their bond is strong, and the betrayal they both feel from one another after God commands Moses to lead Israel out of Egypt is quite powerful. However, this isn’t what the Bible says about Moses and Pharaoh at all.
Nowhere in Exodus does it state that Moses and Pharaoh were either raised together or brotherly, despite the fact that Pharaoh’s daughter did indeed raise Moses in the palace. The Prince of Egypt, like so many Moses adaptations, is ultimately more inspired by Cecil B. DeMille’s The Ten Commandments in this regard, and it’s not the only thing the film changes.
In Exodus, Moses knows that he is a Hebrew. That’s the entire reason he kills the Egyptian beating the Hebrew slave. Likewise, Moses is always depicted as a capable leader by Hollywood (and indeed, he was), but the whole reason that God allows Aaron to go with him is because Moses was not confident in his own speech. In fact, many believe he had a speech impediment.
Neither The Prince of Egypt nor The Ten Commandments address these issues. Instead, they make changes to further dramatise the narrative for the big screen. In the case of the former especially, the sibling bond between Moses and Ramses allows both characters to undergo unique emotional arcs, ultimately culminating in their final standoff at the Red Sea. It’s because of their former emotional bond that Ramses’ end is so tragic.
So, do the changes made in The Prince of Egypt emphasize the themes expressed in scripture or distract from them? Even with these changes in mind, I would argue that the film is still a largely accurate portrayal. It may not capture the Exodus account by the letter, but it certainly imparts the same spirit. The film still magnifies the power of God, follows the basic tenets of Moses’ story, and gets the message right. There’s nothing that instantly comes across as heretical about it.
Likewise, The Crucifixion, a painting by Jan Styka that is currently on display at the Hall of Crucifixion-Resurrection in Glendale, California (one of our former homes), is a masterful piece of art that must be seen to be fully appreciated. At nearly 200 feet long and 45 feet high, The Crucifixion is one of the most elaborate works of art I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
Not only is the size and scale simply immaculate, but the images themselves are fantastic. There is so much about this painting to love, from all the small details about Peter’s betrayal, John’s position beside Mary, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea planning Christ’s burial, to even foreshadowing the Apostle Paul’s conversion. It’s all there in this spectacular panorama.
But there is one detail that, at first, seems to be a vast departure from the biblical account. Instead of appearing bloody on the cross, Jesus stands where He is about to be crucified and is bathed in heavenly light. As He looks upward, there is a sense of peace about Him. The Forest Lawn Museum, which holds this stunning depiction, describes it this way. “Jesus stands in the center of the canvas, bathed in supernatural light while glancing heavenward in acceptance of the imminent sacrifice. But it is a victorious Christ about to fulfill a holy mission, not a tragic image of the crucified Christ.”
This is not to take away from the horrors of Christ’s crucifixion. Indeed, the painting is titled The Crucifixion. Rather, Styka aimed to portray Christ’s ultimate victory in the face of death. Certainly this departs from how the scene actually played out. Any simple reading of the Gospels will confirm as such. But this is a powerful and sobering reminder that although Jesus’ death was horrific and disheartening, it was actually a victory against the works of the Devil (1 John 3:8).
In this way, although The Crucifixion does depart from the material, it does so in a way that actually explores the deeper meanings behind Jesus’ death. It doesn’t distract from the point of the Gospel, but explores another facet of it that can often be overlooked. It still hits the nail on the head, even if it doesn’t put three into His hands and feet.
But what’s a good (if I can use that word) example of art that distracts from the themes of scripture? Well, this may get me in deep water with some, but I actually think that The Chosen can fall into this category far too often.
For those unaware, The Chosen is a multi-season adaptation of the New Testament that centers around Jesus and his followers. As the fifth season is airing now, it’s no secret that this show is popular. In fact, I was quite the supporter of it for a long time. But in recent years, I’ve begun to stray from The Chosen simply because I believe the series may be straying too far from the Bible.
Again, I understand that changes must be made to stories (all stories) when adapting them to different forms of media in which they did not originate. Even Pier Paolo Pasolini’s widely regarded The Gospel According to St. Matthew, which stuck simply to Matthew’s Gospel account to bring the story of Christ to life (and was highly praised by the Vatican for doing so), made changes to the material in terms of costuming and tone. But The Chosen takes this to another level entirely.
While humanizing the disciples, and even emphasizing the human elements of Jesus himself, is a great way to get audiences to connect more with these characters, the series often seems to put words into Jesus’ mouth. It’s one thing for a Bible adaptation to give characters new dialogue. That just has to happen. The trouble is that writing new material for Jesus, the Son of God, to say can be a dangerous path, and it doesn’t always lead where scripture says.
There are far too many examples to note here, but there is one specifically that I believe encapsulates the main problem that many Christians have with the show. In Season 3, Simon Peter and his wife undergo a host of marital issues after a miscarriage6, and by the end of the season, Peter blames Jesus for it. The finale concludes with Jesus walking on water, and Peter then walking out to him. However, the entire scene is framed around Peter’s emotional turmoil, and focuses far more on that than anything else.
This is a drastic departure from what we read in Matthew 14:22-33, which emphasizes the divine nature of Christ in the midst of chaos and uncertainty. Yes, one could argue those ideas are referenced in this scene, but Peter’s emotional arc is what takes the center stage. This is a common problem with the show, and while emotional arcs for characters are important in narrative formats, there is a clear danger in overemphasizing their importance — this is especially true about a series that should have no trouble highlighting the Gospel.
Admittedly, the show adds a disclaimer from the get-go that it is not a replacement for scripture nor is it trying to be scripture. That’s all well and good, but when one begins to put words into Jesus’ mouth, to pick and choose who an incarnate Jesus will heal or ignore7, to present anything but a balanced view of Christ’s humanity and divinity, one must proceed with caution. This is not to say that Christians cannot watch The Chosen, only that, with any form of art, one must be incredibly discerning when doing so.
Does this work glorify God?
Arguably the most important question on this list is of whether a work of art glorifies God or not. Is it true, good, and beautiful? Does it present an accurate picture of reality? Can we glean deep, spiritual truths from it? Does it honor Jesus Christ?
These are difficult questions to answer. Frankly, as with us sinful people, I’m not sure there’s any work of art that can fully measure up. But does this mean that we should throw all Bible-based art out? God forbid!
Francis Schaeffer wrote that the Christian’s imagination should far exceed the stars. It’s no wonder then that men like C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien have crafted fantastical worlds that exceed the imaginations of many, doing so in ways that ultimately honor their Creator.
“A Christian should use these arts to the glory of God,” Schaeffer noted in his essay. “Not just as tracts, mind you, but as things of beauty to the praise of God. An art work can be a doxology in itself.”
When it comes to biblical adaptations, nobody will ever get everything entirely right.8 A nose might be off, someone’s dress may not be accurate, or maybe artistic liberties will present material in a new, unique way. But if it is still made with the intent to glorify God, and if the end result actually does just that, that is the goal. That is certainly my personal goal as an artist.
Not all works of art need to be evangelistic. None of my books would fall into that category, nor would Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, nor would many other great novels, films, songs, or artworks. However, we must strive for excellence in all things for the glory of God alone, and that is perhaps most especially true when it comes to adapting holy scripture.
Because this was such a long edition as is (and trust me, there is so much more to unpack here), we’re going to keep this short. As you may have guessed, I have been working on a biblical adaptation recently, a short story from the point of view of Pontius Pilate. I hope to release this tale on Good Friday, which means it needs to be done in under a month. Please pray for me.
In other news, those who follow me on social media may already be aware, but my Western short story, The Devil’s Left Hand, is officially a Spur Award Winner! I am beyond grateful, and all the glory goes to God for the victory.
What’s a Spur Award? Here’s what the Western Writers of America has to say, “Western Writers of America annually honors writers for distinguished writing about the American West with the Spur Awards. Since 1953, the Spur Awards have been one of the most prestigious awards in American literature".”
This June, my family and I will be heading down to Amarillo, Texas, for the award ceremony. I’m hopeful to make some solid connections in the industry while there. At the very least, it’ll be fun to explore the Lone Star State and enjoy a nice steak dinner. You can read about the other Spur Award winners on the WWA’s website here.
WHAT I’M READING: Creature Tech by Doug TenNapel — This graphic novel is insane, but I highly recommend it. Dual parts sci-fi and fantasy (though they’re really the same), Creature Tech is a fantastical tale about life, love, monsters (lots of monsters), resurrection, and faith. You won’t expect how weird this one gets, nor will you believe how theologically profound it can be.
WHAT I’M WATCHING: House of David — Speaking of biblical adaptations, we’ve been enjoying Prime Video’s House of David quite a bit. Unlike previous David-centric television shows (ABC’s Of Kings and Prophets was simply horrific), the series is quite good. Yes, it takes some creative liberties with the 1 Samuel story (and not all of them for the better), but it gets the spirit of both Saul and David’s stories right. There’s a lot to like so far. Hopefully Season 2 won’t lose that mojo.
WHAT I’M LISTENING TO: Creed — Really been on a Creed kick lately; no particular album, just the band’s general discography. Not sure what it is, but “One Last Breath” has been in my head a lot, and “My Sacrifice” is always a banger. “Higher” may be the one that everyone seems to play, but there are plenty of other great tracks out there.
“Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under earth: Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; And shewing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.” - Exodus 20:4-6
As Paul notes that “all things are lawful but not all profitable” to us as Christians (1 Corinthians 10:23), I believe that the same grace should be applied to art as well. Artistic liberties are not inherently wrong, but, as with anything, one can easily run the risk of “going too far.”
Deadpool & Wolverine broke that record in 2024.
Not everyone will be able to, and I understand that. As a Protestant myself, I struggle with much of the Catholic tradition and the extra biblical moments between Jesus and Mary that are added (what’s the deal with that table scene?). While I don’t know if I would consider anything in particular in The Passion straight-up heresy, there are moments that perhaps could/should have been cut from the final product.
One of my favorite moments in The Passion of the Christ is when Jesus is in the garden of Gethsemane. There, as He is tempted by Satan, He steps on a snake with his heel after the serpent first bites it. This was a creative way to express the prophetic words of God in Genesis 3:15, signalling to the Devil that his time is short. As far as we know, this did not happen in scripture, but it is an artistic expression of something that very much did.
Neither their marital problems nor the miscarriage are recorded in scripture.
This one especially gets me. Although I do believe in the sovereignty of God, and know that not everyone receives miraculous healings, I also know that there is not a single instance throughout Jesus’ earthly ministry where He ignored someone’s pleas for mercy and help. We cannot find one. Sure, He refused to do miracles in certain places due to the hardness of people’s hearts, but there is not an instance in the New Testament where someone goes to Jesus searching for healing and He chooses not to. The fact that there has not been more of an uproar at The Chosen’s decision to do this on multiple occasions is both frustrating and frightening.
This is not to excuse straight-up heresy, mind you. The way Sue Monk Kidd’s The Book of Longing invents a fictional wife for Jesus is not only disrespectful to the biblical account (and incredibly inaccurate), but is entirely heretical. Jesus not only did not take a human family during His time on earth, but to do so would have (1) distracted from His mission and (2) replaced the role of the Church as Christ’s bride. It’s one thing to creatively interpret the biblical story, but it’s another to add in elements that stand in direct contrast to it. It dishonors God.
Prince of Egypt was so good and I loved you addressing that great work of art! Same with Gustave Dore's stuff.
You're critiques of The Chosen are sound.
Overall you make fantastic points and lay out great principles when assessing a Christian adaptation, I will be sure to revisit this framework when I am considering the value of adaptations in the future.
Also, Creed is just incredible and I love their music as well. I remember jamming in the car with my dad to them. Glad to see a fellow fan.