Okay, world, it happened.
Try. We will never get over it.
The film, THE PASSION OF CHRIST, will begin its showing tomorrow.
The "world" is griping because the 12 hours of horror are exactly that. The Jews are throwing a maxi-fit because their heritage is in question.
Get over it?
Mel Gibson tells it like it was.
It was not a golden cross glittering in the white washed halls of a fancy yancy church edifice. It was an old, rugged, splintery, heavy and blood-soaked log.
Jesus was not sitting there with his fingers crossed and a gentle smile on his rouged face.
He was being literally - not figuratively - slaughtered.
It was MEANT to be a slaughter. He was, after all, paying the going price for MY sin.
Today, I am so sorry that my sin is so great that Jesus had to endure all that horror. But, I cannot change that by denying it.
The Jewish community will not change history by denying it either. But, wait, neither will the Gentiles.
The One who "put" Jesus through all that was not the Jew nor the Gentile not Pilate.
It was His Father. It was the plan.
There was a whipping that cut the blood and scattered bits of flesh. There was a crudely fashioned crown of ripping thorns which caused excruciating pain and loss of blood. There was a hammer and rusty nails that split flesh and gouged bloody holes in His hands and feet. There was a spear that ripped open His heart valve. There was spitting and hitting and shouts and grit and grime.
The price was being paid. For me.
I could not have stood up under it all.
According to scripture, the price HAD to be paid.
The cost was tremendous.
The world does not want to think about it, let alone SEE it. Mel Gibson makes (or allows) us to see it anyway.
I applaud him.
But, more than that, I applaud God, the Father.
He allowed it all to happen for one reason.
Because He loved me.
It was ugly. It was sickening. It was horrifying. It was grotesque. It was bloody. It was egregious. It was disturbing.
It happened that way.
Try.
You'll never get over it.
