Passions

“And I quote David Ansen, because I suspect he speaks
for many audience members who entered the theatre
in a devout or spiritual mood and emerged deeply
disturbed, this is one of the most violent movies I
have seen”

Roger Ebert

Its been just short of two decades ago, at Easter time, when one
of the most questionable movies was released, that stunned
the world with violent scenes of brutality and graphic images.

‘The Passions Of The Christ’ was witnessed by many in horror
at the cruelty toward an innocent man, depicting the last twelve
hours of his life, tortured and crucified. What was the reason
for a Man to be beaten and presented as a spectacle to the world?

Many were perplexed and wondered why? Had the producer
forgotten to include, that Christ’s love for us took Him to the cross?

That we would be delivered from the feelings we struggle with
from abuse and injustice, thinking no one cares, that

He willingly took our torments upon Himself, that we may be
delivered and spared!

Why did it happen,

why did we not stop

the cruel acts?

Did the threats

Intimidate us?

But, “we have been abused”

We cry, “those that violated

Our bodies and minds, we

Took on as our fault, the sins

Of the perpetrator has eaten

Away at our hearts.”

Our dark secrets haunt us at

Night, our pillows are drenched

With tears, having taken the

Burden upon ourselves, but it

Is just too heavy to bare

In self reproach, beating our

Backs with a whip, each

Strike of flagellation trying

Ever trying, to pay the price.

There once was a Man that

Experienced this pain as we

In humiliation and scourging,

He hung upon a tree.

His robe torn from His body,

His loincloth removed, a

Spectacle to the world, in

Shame and humiliation.

Stricken and despised by all

He identifies with us.

Soldiers taunting as He hung

In ignominy and disgrace,

Bickering over His garments

With tainted money.

Beaten with a rod, His back

Mutilated with cuts and

Abrasions, He took on our

Futile attempts to deliver

Ourselves.

Lacerations from a crown

Of thorns pressing upon His

Head, blood flowing upon His

Breast.

Nails driven through the palms

Of His hands, one day becoming

Scars of reminders of His love

For us.

Women and children are

Comforted in violence, for they

Have an Advocate.

Our appetites and passions, our

Molestations He has born,

Tasting the bitter wine, spewing

It from His mouth, giving power

To the addicted that they may

Be released, throwing the bottle

In the street.

The cry of the crowd is heard,

“Crucify Him”as he hung on the

Cross.

The noonday sun rising in its

Circuit, now darkened, defying

It’s ever presence across the

Heavens, He cries “Father forgive

Them for they know not what they

Do”

Giving us the desire to forgive our

Assassins and demons too.

In the wilderness of sin he denied

Himself bread, tempted of the

Devil, given to prayer instead.

Desolate and forlorn when his

Followers fled, he understands

When we are left alone.

Taking our punishment upon

Him, for all of these things

He has given power to God’s

Sons and daughters, for there is

Not a sin that He has not forgiven!