Os Escolhidos- 4-6 4-- Temporada - E... - The Chosen-
As the screen fades to black at the end of Episode 6, with Jesus walking alone toward the Mount of Olives, one line echoes from earlier seasons: “Get used to different.” The Chosen has indeed become different—darker, deeper, and more demanding. And in that demand, it offers the most honest portrayal of discipleship ever put on screen: not a journey of victory, but a long, stumbling walk toward a cross that only love can bear.
The episode’s genius lies in its pacing. Throughout the first three episodes of Season 4, Peter is portrayed as the most vocally militant disciple, convinced that Jesus is the warrior-Messiah who will overthrow Rome. In Episode 4, after the raising of Lazarus (which occurs off-screen between seasons), Peter’s expectations are violently recalibrated. When Jesus speaks of suffering and death, Peter’s mind rejects it. His denial in the courtyard is less about saving his skin and more about psychological survival: he cannot publicly affirm a Messiah who refuses to fight.
Episode 6 ends with Jesus looking across a crowded Jerusalem street toward his mother. They do not speak. He gives a single, almost imperceptible nod. She closes her eyes and nods back. In this silent exchange, The Chosen achieves what sermons often fail to: it dramatizes the —the same “let it be done to me according to your word” that Mary spoke at the annunciation, now reversed as she lets her son walk to his death. This is not passive resignation but active, agonized consent. The Chosen- Os Escolhidos- 4-6 4-- Temporada - E...
Episode 5 also introduces the (Jewish zealots) as a third force, attempting to force Jesus’ hand. This subplot underscores the series’ thesis: political violence and spiritual submission are irreconcilable. When Judas Iscariot witnesses the Sicarii’s discipline, we see the first glint of his eventual betrayal—not born of greed, but of impatience with Jesus’ refusal to act.
Through the microcosm of Simon Peter’s denial, the political chess of Caiaphas, and the quiet agony of Mary of Nazareth, Episodes 4-6 dismantle any remaining notion of a triumphant, nationalist Messiah. Instead, they present a portrait of a leader willingly walking into isolation—and the disciples’ desperate, failing attempts to hold themselves together as he does so. As the screen fades to black at the
If Episode 4 is about a disciple’s failure and Episode 5 about an enemy’s logic, Episode 6 is the emotional heart of the trilogy. It focuses on Mary of Nazareth (Vanessa Benavente), who has known from the annunciation that her son would suffer. Yet knowing and witnessing are two different realities.
The episode’s central set piece is a quiet conversation between Mary and Mary Magdalene (Elizabeth Tabish). Here, Jesus’ mother confesses the agony of powerlessness: “I cannot save him. I cannot even comfort him, because he is no longer just my son. He is everyone’s savior.” This line is the episode’s thesis. Jenkins brilliantly shows Jesus’ humanity through Mary’s eyes—her memories of his childhood, his first steps, Joseph’s death—juxtaposed with the inexorable pull of Gethsemane. Throughout the first three episodes of Season 4,
The Chosen Season 4, Episodes 4–6, are not comfortable viewing. They are the cinematic equivalent of the Agony in the Garden—sweat, blood, and the silence of heaven. Yet they are essential. Without Peter’s failure, there can be no restoration on the beach. Without Caiaphas’ logic, there is no trial. Without Mary’s surrender, there is no mother of the Church.
