The Passion of the Christ

Today will indeed win itself as perhaps one of the most pivotal moments in my life. Unlike most women, I am deeply affected by visual imagery. This afternoon I attended the Hooksett Cinema 8 Theater with staff of Manchester Christian Church to view Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ.

The movie itself was a stroke of genius. Mel has worked on the film for nearly 13 years and it was evident in the study and eventual outcome of script. He depicted historical crucifixion. There were a couple of things left out and a couple of things added, but not one thing that would remove the eternal significance of the cross...The deathbed of my Lord.

I was hurt in several ways. Today I have labeled four:

1. As a woman with maternal instinct, I was slammed with grief when I witnessed Mary suffering over the death of her child. A parent should never have to watch their child be brutalized and mangled all to the point of death. I felt the urgency that she was enveloped in as she envisioned Jesus as a young boy falling to his knees. She quickly ran to his side to assure him that she would be with him. As Mary lifted her head up to see Jesus laboriously drag his cross over his already weary and marred body down the road, he tripped into the sharp rocks and dirt that stuck to his bloodied gashes. She immediately bolted to his side. She was to be with him. Metaphorically speaking, Mary's character portrayed in my mind a picture of God as he too was in deep pain to see his one and only Son take on the sins of the world.

2. As Christ shuttered with anxiety prior to his lashes, my stomach knotted up with tension. It was as though I were standing there awaiting the blow. With every strike tears flooded my cheeks and I repeated over and again, "But he didn't do anything." The men laughed and scoffed at their sport. I saw the humanness in Jesus as his hands shook violently in the clasps that prevented criminals any chance of escape. The violence of this film distinguished it from the fluffed up movies I have seen in the past. It drove the reality of Christ's ultimate sacrifice straight to my heart.

3. I wept as I anticipated what was to come next. I flinched before the cross was turned upside down so the soldiers could bend the nails, I cringed when his right arm was forcefully bound and stretched just to reach the opposite nail hole and I stopped breathing at the sound of his left hand tearing as a result of the pull.

4. Guilt flushed my system as I watched on in disbelief. I put him there. We put him there. What more can I say?

Several things caught my attention: the alluring presence of evil, the flashbacks, the teardrop falling from heaven, the heel that crushed the serpent's head, the resurrection.

I understand that most people would choose to walk away from this movie, let it soak in, and preferably never speak of it's personal implications again. That is not how I tick...As most know, I must verbalize to understand or I may never fully appreciate what it did do to me. Although I may choose to see this movie once, The Passion has allowed me to see what I have heard. I believe without a doubt that Christ is my King...Just as he always said.

I hope and pray that it does that for all who see it.