Sun, Mar. 7
... That You, my King, would die for me
Logan and I finally went to see
The Passion of the Christ this afternoon. What can I say about it, besides the fact that I forgot to take Kleenex with me. Not the smartest move, but oh well.
There were so many things that I only saw in passing. Often, I watch movies with a critical eye to the directing, cinematography, acting, writing, and everything else, but this one... I saw some of those elements, but they were just crossing my mind in a frame of reference that was overshadowed by the story. It's a story that I've heard, seen, sung, read, acted more times than I can remember, but it hit me again, in some ways like I was seeing it for the first time.
During the crucifixion scene, the words from the monologue that Dave wrote for Chelsea's showcase kept running through my head. They nailed his hands and his feet down, and I heard her weeping.
"One. I love you. Two. I love you. Three. I love you."
I've read about, sung about, written about, heard about that love my entire life. I've believed in it enough to stake my faith in. I've claimed that love as a part of my identity, but there was a part of me that realized it that much more clearly today.
Or maybe it wasn't just that I realized it; maybe it was that something was awakened inside me. I was reminded of something that I've known for so long that I've almost forgotten it. It's become so familiar to me and so much a part of my story that I forget to remember. I forget to keep it in the forefront of my mind, and I lose the power of such a love. I talk about it so much that it almost becomes mundane, but how can such an incredible sacrifice ever be mundane.
"One. I love you. Two. I love you. Three. I love you."
Some of the technical things I did see and appreciate:
I liked the fact that a vast majority of the actors were unknown. Sometimes it's so easy to get caught in seeing an actor play the part that we forget the story. This wasn't like that--I wasn't watching Jennifer Aniston or whoever play a role, trying to separate it from other roles she's played.
There were some cool allusions to Old Testament prophecies; particularly the allusion to Genesis 3:15: "And I will put enmity between you [Satan] and the woman [Eve], and between your offspring and hers; he [Christ] will crush your head [defeat], and you will strike his heel [temporary victory]." The scene in the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus steps on the snake... I thought that was such a cool allusion to that.
There was a lot of noise, but relatively little dialogue, which was an interesting effect. The subtitles weren't overdone, I thought. I loved the fact that it was in Aramaic, because sometimes Jesus movies end up with British accents, and it's just too cheesy. This added to the authenticity, and I liked the fact that there was enough left uninterpreted to keep it telling the story, not catering to the audience.
There were some great cinematographic moments. For instance, when Simon of Cyrene takes Jesus' cross, there's a shot of Jesus lying on the ground, and the shadow of the cross falls over him.
Those were just a few of the things I noticed... a few of the directoral choices and so on that were made. But like I said, there was so much richness and depth to the film in terms of the technical aspects that I missed, because I was involved. I would want to look for things like more OT prophetic allusions, theological implications of different decisions, the language--I'd love to analyze it from a linguistic point of view. I'd want to look more at the acting and cinematography than I had the chance to this time...
I'm glad I didn't see all that, though. I'm glad that I was moved and affected by the story. I'm glad that it struck me every time they whipped him; every time he was it. I'm glad that, even though some days it doesn't feel like it, I still have a tender and soft enough heart to be moved.
I'm so thankful that I can watch a movie like that with hope and thanksgiving. Yes, it was horrific. Moreso than I can even imagine. It was brutal, and that just made me realize a little more of it. But I don't watch it with a sense of hopelessness. I can't watch it as just a senseless act of violence against an innocent man. I have to watch it as...
I'm why. If I had been the only one, it still would have happened. It boils down to so much love. So much love... so much mercy and forgiveness and a passionate desire to free me.
What kind of response could I give that could ever be worthy of such an unbelievable sacrifice?
infinite || abyss
posted at 11:23 p.m.
