Anagnorisis: Recognizing Jesus as the Hidden King in Nolan’s The Odyssey

Christopher Nolan’s film rendition of The Odysseyhas left an impact on its viewers. The film opened with a critical review of 95% on Rotten Tomatoes, making it the highest-reviewed Nolan film in history. The 2 hour, 53 minute mammoth was the first production filmed entirely on IMAX cameras, a feat that resulted in eleven miles of film footage upon completion. The movie is on pace to earn $1.55 billion in theaters, potentially toppling Avengers: Endgame as the highest-grossing film of all time.

While the project was initially criticized for its controversial casting decisions, many Christian viewers of the epic have praised it upon viewing. The Christocentric nature of the film is impossible to ignore. One writer called the project “a Trojan horse for faith,” and another highlighted how the film alludes to the Christian’s “homesickness” for heaven.

I was in awe of The Odyssey from start to finish. That could have been because I saw the movie in an “extreme” theater equipped with “ButtKicker” audio transducers in each seat, but it was also because of the beautiful simplicity of the protagonist Odysseus (Matt Damon). Even a novice reader of Scripture could draw the parallels that exist between Odysseus and Jesus: A good man, driven by his purpose, faces an insurmountable task. That task has presumably resulted in death, but to the pleasant surprise of those most dear to him, death does not have the final word. He overcomes death, returns, and sets all things right.

The third and final act of Nolan’s The Odyssey depicts Odysseus’ homecoming. Odysseus is warned by the shade (or ghost) of the deceased king Agamemnon to return home in disguise. Thus, when Odysseus arrives home to Ithaca, he pretends to be a beggar. While danger awaits his arrival, so do a faithful few: his wife Penelope, his son Telemachus, and a few servants who have waited nearly two decades for his return.

When he first returns, Odysseus is recognized by no one. Slowly, one by one, Odysseus reveals his true identity to each of his faithful few. Their patient waiting is consummated in these moments; two decades of pain and patience fade into pleasure. The most striking moment of revelation is when Odysseus’ maid, Eurycleia (Kate Fuglei), is washing his feet and recognizes his scar. She gasps, fumbles her bowl of water, and looks into his eyes for confirmation. He lovingly cradles her chin, confirms her revelation with a smile, and urges her to stay quiet for a few moments more. This scene actually moved me to tears, and it was in this moment that I realized how prominent of a Christ-figure Odysseus really is.

After His resurrection, Jesus appears to many of His disciples. Most of them are like Odysseus’ faithful few: they do not immediately recognize His identity. Call to mind Mary Magdalene who mistakes Jesus for the gardener in John 20. Think of the Emmaus Road encounter in Luke 24 when Jesus walks with His disciples unawares. Finally, remember the miraculous catch in John 21 when Jesus’ closest friends think He is a stranger calling out fishing advice from the shore. Yet, revelation comes: Mary recognizes Jesus when He says her name, the Emmaus Road disciples recognize Him when He breaks bread with them, and the fishing disciples recognize the inside joke when their nets burst at the seams.

There is an interesting Greek work for this kind of revelation: anagnorisis (Greek: ἀναγνώρισις). Anagnorisis is defined as “the shift from ignorance to knowledge.” In each of these scenes from Scripture, the disciples are experiencing anagnorisis. Scales fall from their eyes as they recognize the Lord in front of them (c.f. Exodus 4, Acts 9, Mark 4).

Alessandra Casneda, a Benedictine religious sister and biblical scholar, writes that in moments of anagnorisis, “the protagonist’s situation or the course of events undergoes its main reversal.” J. R. R. Tolkien coined a similar term: eucatastrophe. This “good catastrophe […] captures moments when characters face seemingly insurmountable odds, only to experience an uplifting turn of events that restores hope and leads to a happy ending.” The word draws from the Greek eucharistia (εὐχαριστία), the root of eucharist, a common term employed for the Christian practice of communion.

Rev. Daniel A. Smith, a Harvard University Chaplain, writes:

[Anagnorisis is] actually a literary term describing the moment when a character has a sudden realization or recognition! It’s one character’s moment of recognition about another character’s true identity or the true nature of their own circumstances! We see it in the story of Oedipus. It’s all over Shakespeare and Hitchcock! It’s the moment when Dorothy realizes that her ruby reds could have taken her back to Kansas the whole time, when Harry Potter understands who Snape really is, or when Darth Vader says to Luke: “I am your father!” That’s anagnorisis, a moment of profound, life-changing recognition…

When Odysseus’ faithful few experience their anagnorisis, they do not merely recognize the true identity of Odysseus, they recognize “the true nature of their own circumstances.” When Jesus’ disciples experience their anagnorisis, they are affirmed in their belief in Jesus as the promised Messiah. He is back, and He will set all things right again.

Colossians 3:3-4 reads, “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (New International Version). When you recognize the lordship of Jesus in your life, you experience an anagnorisis of your own. You finally understand that your life is somehow hidden in His. You come to learn that no matter the odds, He will somehow set all things right in the end.

Odysseus’ faithful few had nothing left except their hope for his return; twenty years of pain and patience faded into pleasure.

Christians invest a similar, yet eternally more significant, hope in Jesus. When your life is hidden in Jesus, your sorrows and your waiting will be consummated in the end:

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place, of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4-5, New International Version)

So, thanks to The Odyssey for an anagnorisis of my own: Jesus is the true and better Odysseus, the Hidden King of not only Ithaca, but of the entire cosmos. My life is hidden in His, and my waiting for His return will not be in vain.