Let’s start with a bit of a name game, a couple of thoughts about the character Judah Ben-Hur. “Ben-Hur” is mentioned in I Kings 4:7 as the name of the district governor of “the hill country of Ephraim” whose responsibility it was to provide provisions for Solomon and his court for one month of the year. That’s interesting, but “Judah” is even more profound in its associations. First, Judah was the name of one of the 12 sons of the Israelite patriarch Jacob; hence, it is also the name of one of the 12 Tribes of Israel. The original Judah was the ancestor of the great King David—who himself was the ancestor of Jesus Christ. When Solomon’s vast kingdom split in two during the reign of his son Rehoboam, the southern kingdom was named Judah. In Roman times, the setting of Ben Hur, land from both post-Solomonic kingdoms became the Roman province of Judea, the Jews who lived there subservient to the efficiently brutal Romans. Judah Ben-Hur, the character, he who shares a name with the tribe of David and Christ as well as with the land in which Christ was born, could represent the Judean province as a whole—in other words, he could be a metaphor for the Jewish people and their relationship with Rome.

Judah’s (the character) relationship with Rome is therefore fittingly complicated in the film. Judah himself is one of the elite and wealthy—possessing a social status that often indicated that one dealt well (politically, financially, etc.) with the foreign occupiers of the land. This is partly true, for Judah’s best childhood friend, Messala, is Roman. The two young men are as close as brothers, even when Messala, now a tribune, returns to Judea after a long absence fighting in Rome’s other foreign possessions. What divides Judah and Messala shortly after Messala takes command of the legion in Judea is their devotion to their people—or rather, Judah’s belief that God will one day free His people, and Messala’s dedication to the violence inherent in Rome’s trampling its enemies. Messala works for promotion and worldly glory. Judah yearns for freedom and for peace. Willing to sacrifice even his most treasured friendship in order to squash rumored Jewish rebellion, Messala makes use of a fateful accident to send Judah to the Roman galleys as a slave and to imprison Judah’s mother Miriam and sister Tirzah. That’s when Judah’s love of peace transforms into a life-long quest for vengeance.

Messala and Judah Ben-Hur, fast friends before Messala’s betrayal.

Judah’s longing and seeking for revenge mirrors the hatred his people hold for Rome. While earlier Judah was content to relegate himself to the sidelines and leave the fate of his people in the hands of their God, now he actively works to survive in order to kill Messala, believing that the murder of his former friend will bring him the peace he longs for. Ironically, in a deeply moving scene, while Judah is part of a forced march to the galleys, he experiences the first of two encounters that will change his life forever. Exhausted and almost dying with thirst, the slaves are driven (chained together) into the town of Nazareth so the Romans and their horses can have a drink break. The prisoners are only permitted to drink once the animals have had their fill; and the Romans are particularly brutal in their treatment of Judah, refusing him water altogether. A local villager, though, quietly defies the Romans and brings Judah water. When Judah looks into the man’s eyes, he is transfixed by what he sees there—apparently gentleness and endless compassion.

Judah’s first glimpse of Jesus.

Yet despite his meeting Jesus at Nazareth, Judah lives off his hatred and hope for revenge while a slave in the galleys. The powerful Roman officer Quintus Arrius, upon encountering Judah at his oar, tells him that his “eyes are full of hate” which is “good…[because] hate keeps a man alive. It gives him strength.” But it seems to me that there is something more than hate at work in Judah’s survival. For just as Judah himself insists to Messala at the film’s beginning that God has not given up on his people, so also has God not forsaken Judah—even in his rebellion, hatred, and diabolical plans to kill his former friend. God has a larger purpose at work for both Judah and the Jewish people under Roman domination.

(Spoiler alert!) After some quite ironic twists and turns of the plot (it’s a long story…), Judah is provided with the means and opportunity to take his revenge on Messala—as chariot driver for Sheik Ilderim. Balthazar, one of the three wise men and a guest of the sheik, warns Judah against taking vengeance, assuring him that God will punish Messala for the evil he has done. Judah disregards Balthazar’s shared wisdom and instead offers up an ironic prayer before the race: “God forgive me for seeking vengeance. But my path is set and into your hands I commit my life. Do with me as you will.” God will indeed do what he wants with Judah—even if Judah asks for pardon before he commits the offense!

The chariot race is thrilling but violent. Messala, having rigged his chariot wheels with blades to sabotage the others’ vehicles, eliminates many competitors before he and Judah finally clash head-to-head, physically assaulting each other while the horses sprint on. When his wheel shatters, Messala is dragged by his own black horses and trampled by those of the other racers whom he had tried to harm. Fatally wounded, he waits for Judah to come to speak to him under the arena, knowing Judah must come in order to satisfy his quest for vengeance. But Messala has one more wicked card to play. When Judah (seemingly feeling pity for his broken friend) approaches, Messala stokes his hatred: “Is enough of a man still left here for you to hate? Let me help you…You think they’re dead. Your mother and sister. Dead. And the race over. It isn’t over, Judah. They’re not dead…Look for them in the Valley of the Lepers, if you can recognize them. It goes on. It goes on, Judah. The race, the race is not over.” After ensuring that Judah’s hatred and suffering will continue, Messala dies. But I find it so important to the film’s emphasis on forgiveness that Judah achieves his goal of vengeance and discovers that it does nothing for him. He is just as empty and just as hateful of Rome and Messala (and what Rome did to Messala) as he was before the race. Using the race as a metaphor for Judah’s quest for revenge is quite brilliant—the arena being circular (revenge is endless) and the event bathed in blood and death. So many others were trampled in order for Judah to pay Messala back for what he did to Judah and his family—but those others were innocent. Furthermore, Messala pays with his life. Judah and his family still possess their lives. What Judah requires payment-wise of Messala and Rome is not exactly what he himself has received, even though his agony is significant.

Judah at the death of Messala after the chariot race.

It is at this point in the film when Jesus begins to invade the plot. His presence has overshadowed every moment to this point, but now He becomes more personally real to the characters. Esther, Judah’s love interest (another interesting name choice as it connotes a God-fearing Jew under the control of a foreign power), places her faith in Jesus and cannot help sharing his message of love and peace. Present at the Sermon on the Mount, she encourages Judah with the words she heard Jesus speak there: “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” Judah has been neither merciful nor a peacemaker, and his lingering thirst for Roman blood has taken over his mind and heart so much so that he only cares for the downfall of Rome. He is blind to what is in front of him—the truth about God and His plan to save those who trust in Him.

What changes for Judah is his second encounter with the man who gave him water several years before—the nameless Nazareth carpenter. Desperate to save his dying sister and his weak mother, Judah and Esther attempt to take them to see Jesus. They are horrified to discover that Jesus has just been sentenced to death, and they are present as Jesus struggles to carry his cross through the streets of Jerusalem to the place of execution. Shocked, Judah recognizes Jesus and is determined to return the kind deed which Jesus did for him. When Jesus stumbles and falls, Judah runs to bring him water; and again the two lock eyes. That is when Judah truly begins to see. Drawn to Jesus, Judah witnesses the crucifixion, later telling Esther what he heard there: “Almost at the moment he died, I heard him say it, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’…Even then. And I felt His voice take the sword out of my hand.” Judah is transformed spiritually just as his mother and sister are changed physically, healed of their leprosy as the blood of Jesus flows down the cross and mingles with the waters of rain washing the land into a newness of hope.

In this second encounter with Jesus, Judah provides the water; but Christ gives Judah more than he had ever imagined.

For Me Then…

This story is all about forgiveness. At the beginning, Judah has nothing to forgive and so is willing to live at peace with Rome. After he and his family are so grievously wronged, he refuses to consider forgiveness. He becomes what his Jewish people are as a group—tired of waiting for God to free them from their Roman oppressors. Rather than being still and remembering the battle is the Lord’s, many of the Jews take matters into their own hands and plot violent revolt against their overlords, resorting to bloodshed just like the Romans do. The Jews also look for a savior, the Messiah—but they misunderstand who/what it is that they are waiting for. They want a physical salvation—the annihilation of those who acted out such atrocities against them. They think that this is the highest salvation that can be given to them. But they are wrong.

To the people of His day, Jesus’ commands probably seemed shockingly absurd to many: “Love your enemy. Do good to those who despitefully use you.” Love the Romans? Do good to those who imprison your family until they must live in disgrace as lepers? To Judah, these words are ridiculous—until he witnesses Jesus living them out first-hand—loving his persecutors, forgiving his executioners. How can Judah hate any longer when he has witnessed such a love?

For me, this film could not have come at a better point in my life. Like those first-century residents of Judea, I also frequently find it difficult to internalize and then live out the instructions that God has written in the Bible. It is far, far easier to cherish and act on hatred than it is to dwell on and extend love to those who have mistreated you. I find that, like Judah, I demand reparation for the wrongs that have been done to me. I want selfish people to have to relinquish what they’ve hoarded. I want cruel people to feel what it is like to be abused. I want and I want, endlessly desiring that God give people what they deserve in full and then some.

But He didn’t give me what I deserve, just like how in the film Jesus doesn’t give Judah what he deserves either. Jesus gives Judah grace and the peace (through love!) that Judah thought he could only have once he had put Messala in the ground. Yet not only does literally looking to Christ free Judah of the pain of his past, it also “take[s] the sword out of [his] hand,” removing the need for vengeance and filling Judah’s life with peace. That might be as profound a lesson as any we’ll see in these BPs. So what more can I say in conclusion but that I too need to look into the merciful and loving eyes of Jesus and learn from him how to love those who do wrong to me.