For years, Mel Gibson has been treated as one of Hollywood’s most controversial figures — a man whose faith made people uncomfortable long before his personal scandals made him radioactive. But when Gibson sat down on The Joe Rogan Experience, what unfolded wasn’t a rant, a provocation, or a publicity stunt. It was something quieter. Heavier. And far more unsettling.

Gibson didn’t sound angry. He sounded certain.

As he spoke about The Passion of the Christ, the Catholic Church, and the Resurrection itself, one thing became clear: this was not a filmmaker revisiting an old project. This was a believer explaining why he thinks the world pushed back so hard — and why he believes that resistance wasn’t accidental.

“That Movie Had Resistance — Real Resistance”

Gibson says the pushback against The Passion of the Christ wasn’t just criticism. It was hostility.

Hollywood didn’t merely doubt the film. According to Gibson, it actively didn’t want the movie made.

“There was a lot of opposition to it,” he told Rogan. “I thought it was very strange.”

The resistance, he explained, didn’t come only from concerns about violence or subtitles in Aramaic and Latin. It came from something deeper — the subject matter itself.

“Christianity is the one religion you’re allowed to openly disparage,” Gibson said, bluntly. “Progressive, open-minded people embrace every belief system — until it comes to Christianity.”

In his view, Christianity has become shorthand for everything modern Hollywood rejects: colonialism, patriarchy, moral authority, and absolute truth. And The Passion, with its refusal to soften the story, forced audiences to confront something they’d rather keep symbolic and distant.

Subtitles, Scripture, and an Uncomfortable Authenticity

One of the film’s most radical choices — using ancient languages — became one of its most powerful weapons.

Gibson believed subtitles forced audiences to engage differently, to read as well as watch. And for a story already etched into cultural memory through Scripture, the effect was disarming.

“Half the time, people didn’t even need the subtitles,” he said. “They already knew what was happening.”

That familiarity made the experience harder to escape. This wasn’t a modernized retelling. It wasn’t filtered through contemporary sensibilities. It was raw. And Gibson insists that was the point.

“The idea was that we’re all responsible,” he explained. “His sacrifice was for all mankind.”

That belief — that Christ’s suffering wasn’t metaphorical, political, or symbolic — sits at the heart of why Gibson thinks the film triggered such backlash.

Faith Without Illusion — and a Church He Says Has Failed It

Gibson is unapologetically Catholic. But he is also deeply critical of the modern Catholic Church.

During the conversation, he didn’t spare words for church leaders accused of covering up child abuse — including high-profile figures like Theodore McCarrick and Cardinal Wuerl. He argued that corruption didn’t weaken Christianity itself, but exposed how far its institutions had drifted.

“The Church was instituted by Christ,” Gibson said. “That doesn’t mean it can’t be flawed.”

He went further, echoing arguments made by dissident clerics who claim the Church has become something else entirely — what some have called a “parallel” or “counterfeit” institution.

Gibson criticized Vatican II reforms, the erosion of doctrinal consistency, and what he described as theological confusion at the highest levels. At one point, he questioned how a pope could claim all religions are equal while presiding over Christianity.

“If that’s true,” Gibson said, “he shouldn’t be the pope.”

The Vatican, Power, and a History That Won’t Stay Buried

One of the most unsettling moments came when Gibson described the Vatican not just as a spiritual center, but as a sovereign state — one with walls, secrecy, and legal protections no other religious institution enjoys.

“It’s a country,” he said. “You can’t extradite people.”

The wealth, the art, the power — Gibson suggested these weren’t incidental. They were part of an institution that, over centuries, had become vulnerable to corruption simply because of what it controlled.

“When you have that kind of power,” he said, “things creep in.”

He even pointed to obscure historical moments — like the bizarre papal conclave of 1958, where white smoke reportedly appeared before black smoke — as symbols of internal struggle that the public never fully understands.

Good, Evil, and Why Humanity Matters

For Gibson, none of this exists in isolation.

He believes the resistance to The Passion, the corruption inside religious institutions, and the discomfort with Christianity itself all point to something larger — a spiritual conflict playing out beyond politics or culture.

“There are real realms,” he told Rogan. “Good and evil. And they’re slugging it out for the souls of mankind.”

The question, he said, is why humanity matters so much in that struggle.

Why flawed, fragile humans are worth fighting over.

That question, Gibson revealed, is what drives the next film he’s working on — a non-linear exploration of the Resurrection that attempts to place it within a cosmic framework of meaning, sacrifice, and consequence.

“Nobody Dies for a Lie”

Gibson’s belief in the Resurrection isn’t sentimental. He says it’s historical.

He points to non-biblical accounts confirming Jesus’ existence. But more than that, he points to the apostles themselves.

“Every single one of them died rather than deny what they believed,” he said. “Nobody dies for a lie.”

That, to Gibson, is the ultimate proof. Faith reinforced by intellect. Belief tested by history.

And while he admits Resurrection is the hardest part of Christianity to accept, he also believes that’s exactly why it matters.

“Who gets back up three days later after being murdered in public?” he asked. “Buddha didn’t.”

A Film That Refused to Stay a Film

Two decades later, The Passion of the Christ still unsettles people — not because of its violence alone, but because it refuses to dilute what it claims to be true.

Gibson doesn’t frame himself as a victim. He frames himself as someone who walked into a fire knowing it would burn.

“It was an honor,” he said. “But yeah — you got the daylights beat out of you for it.”

And listening to him now, older, quieter, and more resolute, one thing becomes clear: whatever people think of Mel Gibson, The Passion of the Christ wasn’t a career move.

It was a confession.

And the resistance it faced may say more about the world than the man who made it.