The Passion of Our Savior
SUE HARRIS|CONTRIBUTOR I hate the sight of blood. I have a weak stomach and often must turn away from the gruesome. News flash: don’t ever call me to administer first aid. I simply can’t handle it. Jesus’ crucifixion is no exception. I remember watching the Passion of the Christ in the theater twenty years ago. This movie follows the last week of Jesus’ life, the Via Dolorosa (the sorrowful way or journey). Passion week. The road to the cross. It was bloody. It was difficult and, if I’m honest, it was exhausting. I had to look away in a few scenes. Jesus was beaten, bloodied, mocked, unclothed, and spit upon. I had been a Christian a number of years and knew the story: Jesus died on the cross for my sins. I even knew many of the details like the crown of thorns, the scourging, and the striking of his face, but I had never actually seen a dramatization like the film depicted. I often work in my yard and when I’m working around thorns, I wear heavy-duty gloves and long sleeves to prevent thorns from tearing up my hands and arms. Thorns don’t just scratch your skin; they imbed themselves into your flesh, going deeper and deeper. And they inflict more pain when you try to pull them out. It’s dreadful imagining thorns in the shape of a crown being forced onto the head of my Savior. Watching the scourging on screen was stomach-turning. Jesus was more than simply whipped, as if that wasn’t enough. In a scourging, the whip has sharp tips attached to the end that are made to dig into human skin. The flesh on Jesus’ back was literally ripped apart. And if that wasn’t enough, men struck him in the face. I have never been punched in the face, but my perfect Redeemer was. Time after time after time. Watching this on the big screen gave me a dramatic view into what happened that day. I can only assume that it was, truthfully, worse. I cried, of course, and I wondered, “Why did Jesus have to die this kind of death?”...