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Differing Opinions on "The Passion" by Mel Gibson

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From "The New York Times":

February 25, 2004
After Months of Contention, ''The Passion'' Arrives in Theaters
By STEPHANIE ROSENBLOOM

Clutching coffee cups and morning papers, movie-goers lined up to see the first Manhattan showing of "The Passion of the Christ" at 9:30 this morning as if they were commuters waiting for a bus.

By 10:15 they had settled into a dark theater at Loews Kips Bay where a full moon eclipsed the screen before the camera dipped and made its descent into Gethsemane.

There was none of the customary movie theater distractions: no coughing, popcorn munching or whispers. Only breathless silence. The theater remained that way for more than two hours, punctuated only by gasps and sniffles as the carpenter from Nazareth was lashed beyond recognition. It was only when the lights came up that chatter and the 21st century returned.

A religious tale with no big-name stars, spoken in not one but two dead languages, "The Passion" initially appeared to have the makings of a flop. Hollywood studios kept their distance, forcing Mel Gibson, the film''s director, co-writer and producer, to reach into his own pocket to bring the $25 million movie — with dialogue in Aramaic and a Latin dialect — to the big screen. But what began as one man''s labor of love has become more than a blockbuster film: it has become a part of popular culture, as familiar as "American Idol," provoking conversation from family dinner tables to church pulpits.

"The Passion" is expected to become the biggest box-office Bible movie ever, eclipsing "The 10 Commandments," which took in $65.5 million in North American theaters.

"It was brutal," a man said on his way out of the theater. "Though Gibson''s going to make a lot of money."

But beneath the financial story is another story, one about deep-seated wounds and fears. Jewish groups like the Anti-Defamation League and the American Jewish Committee, as well as some academics and Christian leaders, have raised concerns that the film is a powder keg that could inflame anti-Semitism.

"Our concern is that `The Passion of the Christ'' could fuel latent anti-Semitism that exists in the hearts of those people who hold Jews responsible for the death of Jesus, which has always been the source of Western anti-Semitism," Abraham H. Foxman, national director of the Anti-Defamation League, and Rabbi Gary Bretton-Granatoor, the organization''s interfaith consultant, said in a statement. "Its portrayal of Jews is painful to watch."

After seeing the film this morning, Paul Rocker , 26, of Manhattan, said, "I don''t feel that there was any anti-Semitism." He said the movie made him feel blessed.

"Do you know what I was thinking of while Christ was taking a beating?" Mr. Rocker said. "I was thinking about all my sins. I was thinking about my personal relationship with Christ. It made me examine my life. There was a girl around me who was crying. I was too. And I did not wipe away my tears because I wasn''t ashamed."

Mr. Rocker, who said people should see the film with an open mind, further addressed the issue of anti-Semitism by saying: "You''d have to be crazy to think about anti-Semitism if you''re watching this movie. It attacks you: your walk and your beliefs and your perspective."

Rabbi Irwin Kula, president of the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, who saw the film this morning, said that while "the film is not anti-Semitic, the story has a legacy of hate connected to it." He said "The Passion" raised such important questions as "whether suffering is a vehicle for love or a vehicle for hate and whether America, with its own history of being open and inclusive, can detoxify the legacy of hate."

Rabbi Brad Hirschfield, vice president of the National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership, pointed out that the film was both a powerful movie about suffering, endurance and love as well as a powerful movie about rage.

"The real message," he said, "is how the various members of the audience need each other. Because no one can know the whole story in its entirety. It''s bigger than any of us."

After watching an advance screening on Monday night, Rose Maniace, 64, of Whitestone, Queens, said, "I''m very open-minded and I don''t think it''s anti-Semitic." A religion teacher at St. Patrick''s Roman Catholic Church in Long Island City, Ms. Maniace saw the film at a fund-raiser at the Kaufman Astoria Studios.

"I don''t think we depict that Jesus'' death is the Jews'' fault," Ms. Maniace said. "It''s the story of the passion of Jesus and how he suffered for all humanity."

She elaborated: "Human stories are good to share. It leads to more peace and happiness and less judgment. I don''t think Mel Gibson followed a stereotype. I think he was influenced by his spirit."

Rabbi Marc Gellman, a champion of interfaith dialogue and co-author of the nationally syndicated weekly advice column "The God Squad," feels differently than many of his fellow rabbis. He said he regarded "The Passion" as a great religious film.

"We have to allow people to tell their own story," Rabbi Gellman said, though he cautioned that people of all faiths must take responsibility for the effects of the stories they tell.

"Jews who are secure in their Jewishness and secure in the compassion of their Christian friends will see the Christian story in a new way," he said.

Critics of the film say it holds Jews culpable for the death of Jesus, casts little blame on the ruling Romans, neglects to show the many Jews who supported Jesus and portrays the notoriously cruel Pontius Pilate as a well-meaning pawn of money-hungry Jewish priests. They fear that the film may spark violence and induce the erosion of Jewish-Christian relations.

"So much of what Gibson is doing is profit-motivated, and I don''t mean p-r-o-p-h-e-t," said Rabbi Robert N. Levine, who is the senior rabbi of Congregation Rodeph Sholom in Manhattan and the vice president of the New York Board of Rabbis. "It''s a difficult movie to watch, viscerally. I looked for universal, hopeful, uplifting messages in this film and it''s very hard to see them."

Despite their concerns, mainstream Jewish organizations are not boycotting the film.

"Boycotts and bans do not advance interfaith and inter-religious dialogue," said Kenneth Bandler, director of communications for the American Jewish Committee. A statement on the Anti-Defamation League''s Web site, www.adl.org, explains that the group does not support boycotting, particularly because it is a technique that has been used against Jews.

The buzz surrounding the film has, in recent weeks, developed into a roar, and while many people wish it would all just go away, Rabbi Gellman thinks it is a good thing.

"The alternative to a passionate discussion and interfaith dialogue would be only to discuss if Carrie would have ended up with the Russian or Mr. Big," he said, referring to the series finale of "Sex and the City" on HBO. "And I will pick a discussion about the meaning of life and sacrifice and sin over that any day."

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Very moving. I think I will have to give very deep thought as to whether I could stand the violence in the movie though. Here in Oz, they have announced that a woman in her 50's died from a heart attack whilst the crucifixion scene was on - I don't believe that this scene caused her heart attack but it does give one pause.

This is one movie that every person who sees it will have a widely differing opinion. None of them wrong but also none of them right either.
 
Well, Danica, here is the enunciation of another opinion: Maureen Dowd's. Unlike its supposed effect on some of the people quoted in the article above, this movie did not make Maureen Dowd feel like reflecting on her sins but like kicking in teeth. I'll let her tell you.

From "The New York Times":

February 26, 2004
OP-ED COLUMNIST
Stations of the Crass
By MAUREEN DOWD

Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Mel Gibson and George W. Bush are courting bigotry in the name of sanctity.

The moviemaker wants to promote "The Passion of the Christ" and the president wants to prevent the passion of the gays.

Opening on two screens: W.'s stigmatizing as political strategy and Mel's stigmata as marketing strategy.

Mr. Gibson, who told Diane Sawyer that he was inspired to make the movie after suffering through addictions, found the ultimate 12-step program: the Stations of the Cross.

I went to the first show of "The Passion" at the Loews on 84th Street and Broadway; it was about a quarter filled. This is not, as you may have read, a popcorn movie. In Latin and Aramaic with English subtitles, it's two gory hours of Jesus getting flayed by brutish Romans at the behest of heartless Jews.

Perhaps fittingly for a production that licensed a jeweler to sell $12.99 nail necklaces (what's next? crown-of-thorns prom tiaras?), "The Passion" has the cartoonish violence of a Sergio Leone Western. You might even call it a spaghetti crucifixion, "A Fistful of Nails."

Writing in The New Republic, Leon Wieseltier, the literary editor, scorns it as "a repulsive, masochistic fantasy, a sacred snuff film" that uses "classically anti-Semitic images."

I went with a Jewish pal, who tried to stay sanguine. "The Jews may have killed Jesus," he said. "But they also gave us `Easter Parade.' "

The movie's message, as Jesus says, is that you must love not only those who love you, but more importantly those who hate you.

So presumably you should come out of the theater suffused with charity toward your fellow man.

But this is a Mel Gibson film, so you come out wanting to kick somebody's teeth in.

In "Braveheart" and "The Patriot," his other emotionally manipulative historical epics, you came out wanting to swing an ax into the skull of the nearest Englishman. Here, you want to kick in some Jewish and Roman teeth. And since the Romans have melted into history . . .

Like Mr. Gibson, Mr. Bush is whipping up intolerance but calling it a sacred cause.

At first, the preacher-in-chief resisted conservative calls for a constitutional ban on gay marriage. He felt, as Jesus put it in the Gibson script (otherwise known as the Gospels), "If it is possible, let this chalice pass from me."

But under pressure from the Christian right, he grabbed the chalice with both hands and swigged — seeking to set a precedent in codifying discrimination in the Constitution, a document that in the past has been amended to correct discrimination by giving fuller citizenship rights to blacks, women and young people.

If the president is truly concerned about preserving the sanctity of marriage, as one of my readers suggested, why not make divorce illegal and stone adulterers?

Our soldiers are being killed in Iraq; Osama's still on the loose; jobs are being exported all over the world; the deficit has reached biblical proportions.

And our president is worrying about Mars and marriage?

When reporters tried to pin down White House spokesman Scott McClellan yesterday on why gay marriage is threatening, he spouted a bunch of gobbledygook about "the fabric of society" and civilization.

The pols keep arguing that institutions can't be changed when, in fact, they change all the time. Haven't they ever heard of the institution of slavery?

The government should not be trying to legislate what's sacred.

When Bushes get in trouble, they look around for a politically advantageous bogeyman. Lee Atwater tried to make Americans shudder over the prospect of Willie Horton arriving on their doorstep; and now Karl Rove wants Americans to shudder at the prospect of a lesbian — Dick Cheney's daughter Mary, say — setting up housekeeping next door with her "wife."

When it comes to the Bushes' willingness to stir up base instincts of the base, it is as it was.

As the Max von Sydow character said in Woody Allen's "Hannah and Her Sisters," while watching a TV evangelist appealing for money: "If Jesus came back and saw what's going on in his name, he'd never stop throwing up."

E-mail: [email protected]

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Mel's movie has sparked some interesting debate among the intelligentsia :-). This is but one article I have seen recently about the differences in how Catholics and Protestants have, historically, regarded Jesus.

From "The New York Times":

February 29, 2004
ESSAY
The Personal Jesus
By STEPHEN PROTHERO

Don't look now, but here comes the Catholic Jesus. In February 1804, Thomas Jefferson sat in the White House, cutting verses out of two Bibles and pasting them together into an abridged New Testament that cast Jesus as a rational ethicist. Two hundred years later to the month, Mel Gibson was furiously cutting and pasting a cinematic testament to his own ultra-Catholic version of Christ. Jesus may be ''the same yesterday, and today, and forever'' (Hebrews 13:8), but at least in the United States everyone can write his own gospel.

Since the evangelical century of the 1800's, America's Protestant majority has gravitated toward a Mister Rogers Jesus, a neighborly fellow they could know and love and imitate. The country's megachurches got that way in part because they stopped preaching fire and brimstone and the blood of the Lamb. Their parishioners are sinners in the hands of an amiable God. Their Jesus is a loving friend.

Gibson's Christ is by all accounts a very different character. If the mind is the seat of Jefferson's Jesus and the heart the seat of the evangelical Friend, Gibson's Christ is in his body. He came here neither to deliver moral maxims nor to exude empathy, but to spew blood. This is not a therapeutic, ''I'm O.K., you're O.K.'' Christianity. In fact, ''The Passion of the Christ'' seems hell-bent on crashing head-on into a parking lot full of American Protestant assumptions. Its leading man is the Christ of devotional Catholics who for centuries have approached their redeemer bodily, through the Eucharist, gratefully imbibing his battered body. And in scene after gory scene, Gibson is thrusting that Christ in our faces, shoving the ''Man of Sorrows'' of medieval passion plays into the national conversation about Jesus (and in Latin, Hebrew and Aramaic no less).

That national conversation began in earnest after the Revolutionary War, when evangelical Protestants pledged their allegiance to God the Son rather than God the Father. After liberating themselves from the tyranny of George III, these patriots were in no mood to bow down before another distant King, especially since, according to the reigning Puritan theology, he had capriciously predestined each of us to either heaven or hell. So they reinvented Christianity as a Jesus-loving rather than a God-fearing faith, transfiguring Jesus from an abstract theological sign into a living, breathing human being.

Over the American centuries, Protestants have resurrected Jesus as a socialist and a capitalist, a pacifist and a warrior, a civil rights activist and a Ku Klux Klansman. During the Victorian period, Jesus became a sentimental savior beloved by women and adored by children. During the Progressive era of Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders, he flexed his muscles and carried a big stick.

Non-Christians eventually joined the discussion. Between the Civil War and the 1930's, virtually every major Reform rabbi in the United States wrote a book or pamphlet reclaiming Jesus as a Jew. Echoing Jefferson, these rabbis drew a sharp distinction between the true religion of Jesus and the false religion about him. Then they praised the man from Nazareth as a faithful son of the synagogue who scrupulously observed the law and died with the Shema (''Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord'') on his lips.

Buddhists and Hindus have also made Jesus in their own image. In ''The Good Heart: A Buddhist Perspective on the Teachings of Jesus,'' the Dalai Lama recognized him as ''either a fully enlightened being or a bodhisattva of a very high spiritual realization.'' Swami Yogananda, author of ''Autobiography of a Yogi'' and founder of the Self-Realization Fellowship, flattered the Galilean (and himself) when he called Jesus a ''spiritual giant'' and a secret practitioner of yoga.

But Catholic contributions to this messy midrash on Jesus have been sporadic and muted. Few Catholics participated in the quests for the historical Jesus that have bedeviled American Protestants. Few wrote lives of Christ or Christological novels. When the National Catholic Reporter held a turn-of-the-millennium art contest for the best depiction of ''Jesus 2000,'' the winner was not Catholic.

Catholics inhabit a cosmos overflowing with sacred power, charged with the spiritual possibilities of saints and sacraments, angels and demons, popes and priests. By contrast, Protestants have since the 16th century sought to strip away those accretions of popery, banishing the saints and slashing the sacraments from seven to two (marriage and the Eucharist). Whereas Catholics based their faith on Scripture and tradition, Protestants relied on the Bible alone. But as textual criticism and Darwinism chipped away at the Bible's authority, sola scriptura gave way among many Protestants to solus Jesus: Jesus alone. To be a Christian was no longer to celebrate the Mass or to read the Bible but to have a personal relationship with Jesus.

American Catholics have never quite gotten what this fuss is all about. They access God through the saints, Scriptures and sacraments of the church; their spiritual drama is not a one-man show. Still, they have not entirely neglected the Jesus wars. During the Roaring Twenties, an era as besotted with Jesus (and celebrity) as our own, ''Life of Christ,'' by the Italian Catholic convert Giovanni Papini, spent three years near the top of the U.S. best-seller list, entertaining readers with purple prose and perfervid faith.

Gibson and Papini have much in common. Both are outlanders who found their largest audiences in the United States. Both are traditionalist Catholics who came to intense faith late in life (Papini as a convert from skepticism, Gibson as a prodigal son). Each presents his Jesus with the glee, and at times the bigotry, of a man of fresh faith. Unlike Gibson's ''Passion of the Christ,'' which confines itself to the last 12 hours of Jesus' life, Papini's volume covers the whole story. But the book tends inexorably toward the trial and the cross, where Jews mutate into serpents (''Pharisaical vipers'') and uncontrollable violence rains down. Papini's Jesus is indisputably divine, but he is also trapped in the tomb of the body. This is Gibson's Jesus too: a suffering servant who takes the lash with us, exhales his last breath for us and comes to us in the ''real presence'' of the Eucharist.

There is one crucial difference, however, between Papini and Gibson. Papini hated Protestants, while Gibson courts them the way he wooed Helen Hunt in ''What Women Want.'' ''America is the land . . . of the insupportable Washington, the boresome Emerson, the degenerate Walt Whitman, the sickening Longfellow, the angelic Wilson, the philanthropic Morgan, the undesirable Edison and other men of like quality,'' Papini once fumed. And for those sins, God in his wisdom visited on the nation the curse of Protestantism. Who knows what Gibson is thinking, but he has said nothing to rile America's evangelicals, who have embraced him as a brother even as Catholic bishops have raised concerns.

One puzzle of the reception of the film thus far is why born-again Christians have given such a big thumbs up to what is so unapologetically a Catholic movie. Why are they putting their grass-roots organizations at the beck and call of the producer formerly known as Mad Max, buying tickets by the thousands for an R-rated film? Why are they lauding an image of Jesus that owes as much to medieval passion plays and Hollywood action movies as it does to the Gospels, that runs so hard against the Protestant grain?

The culture wars no doubt have something to do with the evangelicals' decision to close ranks with Gibson, who must be commended for so adroitly spinning the debate over his depiction of Jews into a battle between secular humanists and true believers. The evangelicals' ''amen'' to the movie may demonstrate that conservative Protestants have bought more into Hollywood's culture of violence than they would like to admit. Or that, while anti-Semitism is still alive in the United States, anti-Catholicism is finished.

When it comes to the back story of the American Jesus, however, the decision by conservative Protestants to break bread with Gibson may be telling us that the friendly Jesus is on the way out. Calling on the authority of the Apostle Paul, who once boasted that he gloried only in the cross, a group known as the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals has taken American Protestants (evangelicals included) to the woodshed for preaching a ''self-esteem gospel'' rather than the tough truths of the creeds. And Gerald McDermott, a professor of religion at Roanoke College, complains that American Protestants are reducing Jesus ''to no more than the Dalai Lama without the aura, an admirable sort of guy.''

Mel Gibson wants to undo all that, and his film just may. Cecil B. DeMille, who directed the 1927 Jesus movie ''The King of Kings,'' once bragged that only the Bible had introduced Jesus to more people than had his film. Soon Mel Gibson may be telling us the same.

Stephen Prothero is the chairman of the department of religion at Boston University and the author of ''American Jesus: How the Son of God Became a National Icon.''


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How could anyone ever hope to reply to two such differing opinions as the above articles.

I guess the basic human need is to believe. Believe in something, anything, not necessarily Jesus, God, Buddha or any other religious following. Our fear of what comes after (if anything) leads us to hope that there is something out "there" that will surely save us from ourselves.

People are talking, theorising, discussing, debating - whatever and however you wish to describe it - and for a world that has generally turned its back on religion or a kinder more humane world (except that is when they attend church services to continue networking) surely that can only be of benefit for mankind.

I can't say that Mel Gibson's movie is the New Old Testament but surely any discussion that gets us to think and to push us out of the comfort zone can only lead to a better environment.

By the way, the critics in Oz have panned the movie and only given it **. Of course when has anyone ever been bothered by a critics opinion of anything.
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On 2/28/2004 1:18:03 AM Danica wrote:


"...for a world that has generally turned its back on religion or a kinder more humane world...surely that can only be of benefit for mankind."



I profoundly disagree with this statement, Danica. I wish that I felt religion brought out the good and brotherly in people and that more religion would be a Good Thing.

The religion to which you allude is the "modern" Protestantism of which Mr. Prothero wrote, a feel-good, Jesus loves me, religion. You, like many modern people in English-speaking countries, are fairly casual about religion. As you said above, anything that works is good.

When people take religion seriously, there is often bloodshed. There was bloodshed after Martin Luther, a Catholic priest, broke with the Church as he knew it. There was further bloodshed when the Calvinists (the forefathers of the Puritans who founded the New England colonies here) broke from the Lutherans. As Mr. prothero said, the Calvinists believed that some people were saved and some were not from before birth. Good works could avail one nothing. Prosperity was a sign that one had been chosen by God for salvation.

Catholics burned Lutherans at the stake. Lutherans burned Catholics at the stake. Lutherans and Catholics burned Calvinists at the stake. If I remember correctly, the Calvinists did some burning, too. I will have to look up who their primary victims were.

All this death sprang from religion. As does other death...between Sunni and Shite Muslims. Cathlics and Protestants in Northern Ireland. The list is endless.

Some people may say all religion is good, but those people are not religios people. Not adherents of a specific faith that preaches it has the true way to salvation. Those people are spiritual, perhaps, but not religious. (Exempting some totally non-violent faiths like the Society of Friends or some creed-less religions like the Unitarian-Universalists.)

Deb
 
I did some quick and dirty research on Calvinism's victims and found this article, "Calvinistic Presbyterianism" by Pastor V.S. Herrell.

In the article he writes:

"John Calvin was devious in his attempts to promote his theology, even to the point of causing those who justly disagreed with him to be killed. In 1551, a former Catholic theologian named Jerome Bolsec attacked Calvin's belief in predestination because it required that God be made the author of evil. Rather than answer the criticism, Calvin had Bolsec expelled from Geneva. Michael Servetus attacked Calvin's trinitarian position. In 1553, when Servetus came to Geneva, Calvin had him arrested and convicted for heresy.

For this, Servetus was burned at the stake. It was in this type of environment that Calvinism was promoted. It was not promoted because it made sense or was easily proven from the Bible, but under stiff political pressure in Geneva. Calvin was little more than a Joe Stalin of his day. If this article had been published in Geneva during the time of Calvin, this author also would have been burned at the stake, for much of what will be presented hereafter is exactly what Servetus and Bolsec argued then. The lingering establishment of evil known as the ZOG government, with their coalition of homosexuals and mongrels, work feverishly to do away with freedom of speech even as I write with the aim in mind of imprisoning all Christians and bringing an end to the 'Christian Cult,' as the Jews in Washington have chosen to label Christianity."

Here is a link to the entire article:

http://www.christianseparatist.org/briefs/sb3.15.ht

PS-You should know that Pastor Herrell writes for The Christian Separatist Church Society which states unequivocally that Jesus was not a Jew. It might be better if I found some substantiating evidence for anything Pastor Herrell writes, even the death by burning of Servetus.
 
This essay (which may have been a sermon) by a Unitarian-Universalist minister is a much more reliable source than the one I quoted above. The author, Reverend Linda Hansen, is well-read and, I think, very wise. I found no historical errors in what she wrote. If anyone else does, please speak up.

Not only does she confirm the death at the hands of Calvin (by burning at the stake) of Servetus, but she sums up the history of Christianity since the Reformation (when Martin Luther broke with the Roman catholic Church).

Rev. Linda Hansen

August 18, 2002

"Many of you may know something of the work of Jean-Paul Sartre, a French existentialist philosopher of the twentieth century. Sartre was a young man when the Nazis invaded much of France and he played a part in the French Resistance movement during World War II. After the war he wrote an essay called "The Republic of Silence," which began like this:

We were never more free than during the German occupation. We had lost all our rights, beginning with the right to talk. Every day we were insulted to our faces and had to take it in silence. Under one pretext or another, as workers, Jews, or political prisoners, we were deported en masse. Everywhere, on billboards, in the newspapers, on the screen, we encountered the revolting and insipid picture of ourselves that our suppressors wanted us to accept. And because of all this we were free. . . . (quoted by William Barrett in Irrational Man: A Study in Existential Philosophy, Doubleday Anchor Books, 1962, c1958, 239).

Obviously Sartre is working here with two profoundly different meanings of freedom. Under the Nazis, the French people did not have the freedom to do just as they liked-the kind of freedom we so value here in the United States. But Sartre notes that, "the choice that each of us made of his life was an authentic choice because it was made face to face with death, because it could always have been expressed in these terms: 'Rather death than . . .'" (240). Ironically Sartre highlights a freedom that many of us discover only when our freedom to do what we like is limited. This is the hard-won freedom of self-knowledge, of taking the time to delve deeply within ourselves to express what we truly believe or care about--to express our deepest, authentic selves.

While I do not find ministry an easy job (though it is one I love), occasionally I am reminded just how much freedom to do what I like I have as a Unitarian Universalist minister. For example, I can take my deepest questions and doubts into the pulpit and explore them with the congregation. As my beliefs and understandings and questions change, I can change too, publicly as well as privately. Not every minister is so lucky.

Let me offer a couple of examples. Recently a minister in the Missouri Synod of the Lutheran Church was questioned by his denomination because he participated-with the Synod President's permission!-in an interfaith service following the tragedy of September 11th. I have also watched clergy in other denominations get into trouble and perhaps even resign or lose their credentials, because they support gay and lesbian marriages and/or the ordination of gay and lesbian people.

These people-and so many others like them-put their careers, their vocations, their place in their communities, in jeopardy in order to follow the call of conscience. I, on the other hand, am privileged to belong to a religious association that not only allows but encourages its ministers to engage in interfaith work and to perform marriage ceremonies for gay and lesbian couples, and whose congregations do ordain gay and lesbian candidates for ministry.

Most of the time I'm afraid I take my freedom for granted, and I suspect that's true of many Unitarian Universalists. Most of us don't take huge risks when we join a Unitarian Universalist congregation, though I know there are some whose relationships with family or friends may suffer because of it. But we aren't likely to lose jobs and certainly not our lives for our choices.

But the fact is, of course, that our freedom to believe what we in good conscience must believe, to practice religion as we wish, did not come to us easily. We are free to be Unitarian Universalists because other people paid the price for us. When I learn about our European Unitarian heritage, I'm reminded that many people suffered and even died for the freedom we too often take for granted. We owe those early Unitarians and Universalists an enormous debt of gratitude.

It is this freedom we honor in our European forebears like Katharine Weigel and Michael Servetus. It is this freedom we honor in the Unitarians of Poland and Transylvania. In part, because these people put their lives on the line, because they insisted on the right to think for themselves about religious questions, we have that freedom now. And theirs are the stories I would like to sketch briefly for you here.

To begin to understand how Unitarian and Universalist ideas came to light during the Reformation, we must take a quick look at early Christian history. I suspect that, when most Christians are taught that Jesus is fully divine as well as fully human and that there are three equal persons in one God, they are not taught that these doctrines only began to be refined and codified in the 4th century C.E. Not until the Council of Niceaea in 325 C.E. did the Church "settle" the issue of just who Jesus was. On the one side were those whose spokesperson was Arius, who argued that, although Jesus was somehow on a higher plane than human beings, he was not God. And on the other were those whose champion was Athanasius, who argued that Jesus was the Son of God and as fully God as God the Father.

Now, ask yourself whether politics might have played at least a small role in these deliberations. Here is a religious group who has been struggling for three hundred years for legitimacy within the Roman Empire. Their leader is a man who was crucified by the Romans as a common criminal. How best are they going to get people to believe that theirs is the one true religion? By arguing that their leader is just one more prophet in the Jewish tradition among many? Or by arguing that their leader is God?

More politics. Who called this Council? The Roman Emperor Constantine, who had become sympathetic with Christianity when he saw a vision of the cross in the sky and won a great battle fighting under that symbol. It was Constantine who had legitimized Christianity after Roman Emperors had ignored or persecuted Christians for years. Which version is going to give Constantine more support for his own position as emperor? Of course, Constantine is going to want Jesus to be God. And, as you can imagine, Constantine's wish had a lot of power!

And so, as David Bumbaugh tells the story,

The Arians lost the struggle for the soul and mind of the church, but the major effect of their persistent struggle was to shift the center of Christianity from an ethical to a creedal religion, concerned less with character than with correctness of belief. The Council of Nicaea began the process which would eventuate in the Doctrine of the Trinity . . . (Unitarian Universalism: A Narrative History, Meadville Lombard Press, 2000, 8).

Not only did the Arians (the forerunners of Unitarianism) lose the struggle, so did the people we might think of as early Universalists, among them Clement, and Origen of Alexandria-both of whom believed that God would eventually draw all of creation into harmony. Bumbaugh points out that this position too was not politically attractive since it didn't provide a compelling motive for conversion to Christianity. Origen was eventually declared a heretic.

But, of course, legislating against Arianism and universalism did not mean that these questions did not recur, but not until the Reformation did they again take on the power they once had.

Whenever the history and teachings of the church were examined critically, the Doctrine of the Trinity was the place where the seams began to show. Whenever Christianity gave rise to a mystic vision of God, universalism was rediscovered, for the vision of mystic unity is inhospitable to a world-view which embraces the notion that some significant portion of creation is forever doomed to be excluded from that fundamental unity. Heretical though they may have been, anti-trinitarian and universalist thought never disappeared from the religious scene (10).

So now we move to the early 16th century; remember that it was in 1517 that Luther nailed his 95 Theses to the door and essentially started the Reformation within Christianity. Just a few years before, in 1511, a man named Michael Servetus was born in Spain. We think of 1492 as the year Columbus landed in what we now call America, but it was also in 1492 that Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain had expelled all Muslims and Jews who refused to convert to Christianity. It was this Spain with this exile still relatively recent, and the remaining "converts" under suspicion by the Inquisition, into which Servetus was born and by which he came to be, as a young man, greatly troubled. Studying voraciously, Servetus decided that it was the Trinity that caused the rift between Jews and Muslims and Christians and--apparently quite an optimistic young man--he also believed that if the Trinity could be clarified, religious harmony would ensue. It's important to note that Servetus was not really a Unitarian; he did not deny the Trinity. Rather he reinterpreted it to see Jesus as God but not equal to the Father, and the Holy Spirit not as a person but as the activity of God. In 1531, at the age of only 20, Servetus published a book called On the Errors of the Trinity, one which he naively hoped would solve everybody's problems.

Instead, of course, the book got him into major trouble with the Inquisition and he was forced to flee for his life. For many years he lived under an assumed name, having become a physician, but he couldn't let go of his religious concerns and eventually entered into correspondence with John Calvin. While Calvin was at first polite and tried to show Servetus the error of his ways, he finally gave up on Servetus and was indirectly involved in Servetus' eventual trial at the hands of the Calvinists in Geneva. In 1553, those Calvinists burned Servetus at the stake.

As you can imagine, some people thought that Servetus got just what he deserved while others were appalled. Among the latter was a man named Sebastian Castellio who wrote courageously to Calvin in protest, a letter which included this memorable line: "To burn a man is not to defend a doctrine. It is to burn a man." Again, while it's incorrect to classify Servetus as an early Unitarian, he is certainly an important figure in our history-one of the earliest figures in the Reformation willing to challenge the accepted doctrine of the Trinity. And it was largely his challenge that forced Calvin and Luther to clarify their position on the Trinity, something they had not originally been eager to do.

Let me also mention the followers of Calvin who, in the early 20th century, placed a monument where Servetus had been burned, with this inscription: "As reverent and grateful sons of Calvin, our great Reformer, repudiating his mistake, which was the mistake of his age, and according to the true principles of the Reformation and the Gospel holding fast to the freedom of conscience, we erect this monument of reconciliation on XXVII October MCMIII." What a hopeful testament this monument is!

Let us make a quick detour to northern Italy and particularly Venice, which became in Servetus' time a haven for people trying to escape religious persecution in other parts of Europe. I especially want to note that in 1550 (three years before Servetus' death), a group called the Council of Venice adopted a remarkable statement of beliefs, which included an argument that Jesus was not God, and that there was no such thing as hell. Not long after, however, the Inquisition got to this part of Italy and this group was scattered.

Among the people who fled Italy was a man named Laelius Socinus. After his death, his possessions, including his books and his own writings on religion, were given to his nephew, Faustus Socinus, who would become the most important figure in the Unitarian movement in Poland.

We tend to think of Poland as a deeply Roman Catholic country, but this was not yet true at the time of the early Reformation, and so this was a time in which Lutheranism and Calvinism gained a deep hold. This is not to say there was no religious persecution, however. In 1539, an 80-year old woman named Katharine Weigel was burned at the stake for not being willing to assert that Jesus was God; apparently Weigel had been converted to Judaism. Charles Howe writes that "It was reported that the white-haired eighty-year-old woman went to her death boldly and cheerfully, unwilling to compromise her beliefs" (For Faith and Freedom: A Short History of Unitarianism in Europe, Skinner House Books, 1997, 63).

The followers of Calvin came to be known as the Reformed Church and it was within their ranks that some people began again to question the Trinity. Among the influences on the Polish Reformed Church was a man named Giorgio Biandrata, an Italian who had traveled with Faustus Socinus' uncle, Laelius. (We will meet Biandrata again in Transylvania.)

The first meeting of congregations which had become specifically anti-trinitarian occurred in 1565, and it is this date that marks the very beginning of Unitarianism as an organized movement. Eventually (not unlike what happened to the Congregationalists in the United States), the Reformed Church would break into two parts, with the antitrinitarians coming to be known as the Minor Reformed Church, or the Polish Brethren, or Socinians, after Faustus Socinus who became their leader in the late 16th century.

Given that the Unitarian (or Socinian) movement in Poland was eventually persecuted out of existence, it may be hard for us now to imagine how vital and powerful this movement was for a time. Among its greatest accomplishments was a press which published religious books and a catechism, books which over time spread all over Europe. The press was begun in a town called Racow, a town specifically founded in 1569 on the basis of religious tolerance by a woman named Jadwiga Sienienska who persuaded her husband to use their money and power in this way. For approximately sixty years, Racow served as the center of Polish Unitarianism, not only with a press but with a theological school.

By this time, though, Catholicism-and Jesuits in particular-were growing in power in Poland, and fought against Protestantism in all its forms, but especially against the Unitarians. Various wars also caused great havoc. There were many incidents of persecution, and finally in 1638 the town of Racow was destroyed. And by 1660, the Socinians were ordered to leave Poland altogether.

A just as difficult, but ultimately more hopeful story, began in Transylvania about the same time as the Unitarians were organizing in Poland. This is the story we'll take up next week.

UU minister David Rankin has written that,

Freedom is the ground of all vital activity. Faith without freedom is dogma. Love without freedom is an illusion. Justice without freedom is oppression. In every instance, freedom is the factor that sustains and completes the other goal. It is the oxygen of the human spirit, the indispensable element for growth and wholeness (Dancing in the Empty Spaces, Skinner House Books, 2001, 4).

Let us be grateful to all those, including our Unitarian and Universalist forbears, who suffered and sometimes died for the sake not only of their religious freedom but for ours too."

Revised August 21, 2002

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"Intelligensia"?

Methinks you hold these people in too high a regard.
 
Can't you post your *own* views instead of an stream of quoted articles which we all can read by doing our own research?
 
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On 2/29/2004 10:46:26 AM rodentman wrote:



Can't you post your *own* views instead of an stream of quoted articles which we all can read by doing our own research?
----------------


If I had known you were reading, I would have been more careful, I assure you!!!

Deb

PS-Just because others have *access* to the articles I read doesn't mean they see them. If I repost them here on Pricescope, they get a second chance :-).

PPS-If I post an article here anyone can read it for discussion. As in a book club where everyone reads the same *book*, then discusses it. I like being in book clubs and I like discussing articles that both others and I have read.
 
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On 2/28/2004 11:53:47 PM Rank Amateur wrote:

'Intelligensia'?


"Methinks you hold these people in too high a regard."

----------------


Really? I would have thought that Stephen Prothero would be considered a scholar by anybody's standards.

Link:

http://www.bu.edu/religion/faculty/individualfaculty/prothero.htm


Deb
 
Box Office take and Critics' Reviews:

''Passion'' rises to $117.5 million over five days -- The controversial Mel Gibson movie brought in more money than expected. Variety Magazine 3/1/2004


THE PASSION OF THE CHRIST / **** (R)

February 24, 2004

Jesus, the Christ: James Caviezel
Mary: Maia Morgenstern
Mary Magdalene: Monica Bellucci
Pontius Pilate: Hristo Shopov
Caiaphas: Mattia Sbragia
Judas: Luca Lionello
Claudia: Claudia Gerini
Gesmas: Francesco Cabras
Satan Rosalinda Celentano


Newmarket Films presents a film directed by Mel Gibson. Written by Gibson and Benedict Fitzgerald. Running time: 126 minutes. Rated R (for sequences of graphic violence). Opening Wednesday at local theaters, but selected locations will start screening the movie at midnight Tuesday.


BY ROGER EBERT FILM CRITIC


If ever there was a film with the correct title, that film is Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ." Although the word passion has become mixed up with romance, its Latin origins refer to suffering and pain; later Christian theology broadened that to include Christ's love for mankind, which made him willing to suffer and die for us.

The movie is 126 minutes long, and I would guess that at least 100 of those minutes, maybe more, are concerned specifically and graphically with the details of the torture and death of Jesus. This is the most violent film I have ever seen.

I prefer to evaluate a film on the basis of what it intends to do, not on what I think it should have done. It is clear that Mel Gibson wanted to make graphic and inescapable the price that Jesus paid (as Christians believe) when he died for our sins. Anyone raised as a Catholic will be familiar with the stops along the way; the screenplay is inspired not so much by the Gospels as by the 14 Stations of the Cross. As an altar boy, serving during the Stations on Friday nights in Lent, I was encouraged to meditate on Christ's suffering, and I remember the chants as the priest led the way from one station to another:


At the Cross, her station keeping ...

Stood the mournful Mother weeping ...

Close to Jesus to the last.


For we altar boys, this was not necessarily a deep spiritual experience. Christ suffered, Christ died, Christ rose again, we were redeemed, and let's hope we can get home in time to watch the Illinois basketball game on TV. What Gibson has provided for me, for the first time in my life, is a visceral idea of what the Passion consisted of. That his film is superficial in terms of the surrounding message -- that we get only a few passing references to the teachings of Jesus -- is, I suppose, not the point. This is not a sermon or a homily, but a visualization of the central event in the Christian religion. Take it or leave it.

David Ansen, a critic I respect, finds in Newsweek that Gibson has gone too far. "The relentless gore is self-defeating," he writes. "Instead of being moved by Christ's suffering or awed by his sacrifice, I felt abused by a filmmaker intent on punishing an audience, for who knows what sins."

This is a completely valid response to the film, and I quote Ansen because I suspect he speaks for many audience members, who will enter the theater in a devout or spiritual mood and emerge deeply disturbed. You must be prepared for whippings, flayings, beatings, the crunch of bones, the agony of screams, the cruelty of the sadistic centurions, the rivulets of blood that crisscross every inch of Jesus' body. Some will leave before the end.

This is not a Passion like any other ever filmed. Perhaps that is the best reason for it. I grew up on those pious Hollywood biblical epics of the 1950s, which looked like holy cards brought to life. I remember my grin when Time magazine noted that Jeffrey Hunter, starring as Christ in "King of Kings" (1961), had shaved his armpits. (Not Hunter's fault; the film's Crucifixion scene had to be re-shot because preview audiences objected to Jesus' hairy chest.)

If it does nothing else, Gibson's film will break the tradition of turning Jesus and his disciples into neat, clean, well-barbered middle-class businessmen. They were poor men in a poor land. I debated Martin Scorsese's "The Last Temptation of Christ" with commentator Michael Medved before an audience from a Christian college, and was told by an audience member that the characters were filthy and needed haircuts.

The Middle East in biblical times was a Jewish community occupied against its will by the Roman Empire, and the message of Jesus was equally threatening to both sides: to the Romans, because he was a revolutionary, and to the establishment of Jewish priests, because he preached a new covenant and threatened the status quo.

In the movie's scenes showing Jesus being condemned to death, the two main players are Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, and Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest. Both men want to keep the lid on, and while neither is especially eager to see Jesus crucified, they live in a harsh time when such a man is dangerous.

Pilate is seen going through his well-known doubts before finally washing his hands of the matter and turning Jesus over to the priests, but Caiaphas, who also had doubts, is not seen as sympathetically. The critic Steven D. Greydanus, in a useful analysis of the film, writes: "The film omits the canonical line from John's gospel in which Caiaphas argues that it is better for one man to die for the people [so] that the nation be saved.

"Had Gibson retained this line, perhaps giving Caiaphas a measure of the inner conflict he gave to Pilate, it could have underscored the similarities between Caiaphas and Pilate and helped defuse the issue of anti-Semitism."

This scene and others might justifiably be cited by anyone concerned that the movie contains anti-Semitism. My own feeling is that Gibson's film is not anti-Semitic, but reflects a range of behavior on the part of its Jewish characters, on balance favorably. The Jews who seem to desire Jesus' death are in the priesthood, and have political as well as theological reasons for acting; like today's Catholic bishops who were slow to condemn abusive priests, Protestant TV preachers who confuse religion with politics, or Muslim clerics who are silent on terrorism, they have an investment in their positions and authority. The other Jews seen in the film are viewed positively; Simon helps Jesus to carry the cross, Veronica brings a cloth to wipe his face, Jews in the crowd cry out against his torture.

A reasonable person, I believe, will reflect that in this story set in a Jewish land, there are many characters with many motives, some good, some not, each one representing himself, none representing his religion. The story involves a Jew who tried no less than to replace the established religion and set himself up as the Messiah. He was understandably greeted with a jaundiced eye by the Jewish establishment while at the same time finding his support, his disciples and the founders of his church entirely among his fellow Jews. The libel that the Jews "killed Christ" involves a willful misreading of testament and teaching: Jesus was made man and came to Earth in order to suffer and die in reparation for our sins. No race, no man, no priest, no governor, no executioner killed Jesus; he died by God's will to fulfill his purpose, and with our sins we all killed him. That some Christian churches have historically been guilty of the sin of anti-Semitism is undeniable, but in committing it they violated their own beliefs.

This discussion will seem beside the point for readers who want to know about the movie, not the theology. But "The Passion of the Christ," more than any other film I can recall, depends upon theological considerations. Gibson has not made a movie that anyone would call "commercial," and if it grosses millions, that will not be because anyone was entertained. It is a personal message movie of the most radical kind, attempting to re-create events of personal urgency to Gibson. The filmmaker has put his artistry and fortune at the service of his conviction and belief, and that doesn't happen often.

Is the film "good" or "great?" I imagine each person's reaction (visceral, theological, artistic) will differ. I was moved by the depth of feeling, by the skill of the actors and technicians, by their desire to see this project through no matter what. To discuss individual performances, such as James Caviezel's heroic depiction of the ordeal, is almost beside the point. This isn't a movie about performances, although it has powerful ones, or about technique, although it is awesome, or about cinematography (although Caleb Deschanel paints with an artist's eye), or music (although John Debney supports the content without distracting from it).

It is a film about an idea. An idea that it is necessary to fully comprehend the Passion if Christianity is to make any sense. Gibson has communicated his idea with a singleminded urgency. Many will disagree. Some will agree, but be horrified by the graphic treatment. I myself am no longer religious in the sense that a long-ago altar boy thought he should be, but I can respond to the power of belief whether I agree or not, and when I find it in a film, I must respect it.

Note: I said the film is the most violent I have ever seen. It will probably be the most violent you have ever seen. This is not a criticism but an observation; the film is unsuitable for younger viewers, but works powerfully for those who can endure it. The MPAA's R rating is definitive proof that the organization either will never give the NC-17 rating for violence alone, or was intimidated by the subject matter. If it had been anyone other than Jesus up on that cross, I have a feeling that NC-17 would have been automatic.



Copyright © Chicago Sun-Times Inc.






The Passion of the Christ

Verdict: You know the story, but you've never seen anything as harrowing as Mel Gibson's version.

Grade: B+

By PHIL KLOER
The Atlanta-Journal Constitution
Cox News Service

You may think, after all the massive hype, the charges and countercharges, the endless media nattering (mea culpa, by the way), that you already know what's in store for you in Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ," which finally opens today.
You don't. This is a movie so singular, so intense, so overwhelming that it simply has to be experienced. And nothing can prepare you for how brutal, how shocking, how awash in blood and pain Gibson has made his version of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

"The Passion" is so radically different from the normal moviegoing experience that people are going to have wildly varying reactions to it (the recent debate over anti-Semitism is just an inkling of the chasms of perception). A devout evangelical Christian, a Jew, an agnostic, a Muslim, a lukewarm believer may react so differently they might just as well have seen different movies.

Some viewers will see "The Passion" as revealed truth, the ultimate testament to how Christ suffered to redeem the sins of humanity. Others may feel Gibson is so relentless that it feels as if his hand was on the back off your head, pressing your face into Christ's wounds and not letting up for two straight hours. Or both.

"I wanted it to push the viewer over the edge," Gibson told Diane Sawyer in an interview. He has succeeded.

Mediocre films do not generate such extreme reactions, and everyone should at least be able to agree that the artistry and the brilliant filmmaking technique in "The Passion" are undeniable.

Gibson, a devout traditionalist Catholic, financed, directed, co-wrote and co-produced "The Passion." To tell the story, he uses portions of the four Gospel accounts in the New Testament, as well as visionary writings not included in the Bible and what appear to be freshly invented scenes and dialogue. The dialogue is all in Aramaic and Latin, with English subtitles, which gives it a strange feeling of otherness. Gibson more than compensates for that by making the film so physical and immediate.

It begins in the Garden of Gethsemane, with Jesus (James Caviezel) praying for strength for what he is about to endure. He is arrested by the Jewish high priests, who see him as a dangerous blasphemer. After a contentious, preordained trial, they take him to the Roman procurator, Pontius Pilate, because they do not have the legal power to put him to death. Pilate tries to duck responsibility, sending Jesus to King Herod to be judged; having him scourged in an attempt to appease the priests; and finally letting the crowd choose who it would rather see die, Jesus or Barabbas. He sentences Jesus to be crucified, but there is still the long, painful walk to Golgotha and the crucifixion itself -- plus Gibson's brief but potent coda, a snippet of the resurrection.

Along the way, there are about a dozen brief flashbacks -- to Jesus preaching, the Last Supper, etc. -- which provide some context. But it's not nearly enough to flesh out the fullness of Christ. That wasn't what Gibson was trying to do, but it will leave some viewers feeling that he has focused too much on the physical pain and not enough on the metaphysical reason behind it.

The Passion, in the sense of the final events of Jesus' life, has been told countless times, from medieval stage plays to TV miniseries, but never with such realistic, graphic depiction of physical suffering. Filmmaking involves thousands of decisions, and Gibson almost always decides to go for the the most harrowing, visceral shot.

In a movie filled with nearly unwatchable torture and pain, the sequence that stands out is the scourging of Christ by sadistic Roman guards. It goes on and on, and you think it is over, and it begins again with even nastier implements of pain. Again you think it's over, and yet again it takes up with more flogging. The scene lasts 10 minutes, and feels like an hour.

Although it is not in the same league spiritually with other memorably violent movies like "A Clockwork Orange," "The Wild Bunch" or "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre," "The Passion" is more violent than any mainstream movie. And because this was a real historical event, and a beloved figure, the violence feels even rougher.

Finally, is it, as has been alleged, anti-Semitic? You might as easily answer Pilate's question to Jesus: "What is truth?" The two questions are not unrelated.

Gibson does emphasize the role of the Jewish high priests, led by Caiaphas, and portrays Pilate as an almost helpless innocent, manipulated by Caiaphas much more so than other recent movies on the subject. His interpretation lines up well with what the Gospels say, although historians say Pilate was actually a brutal ruler who had no qualms about crucifying uppity Jews.

So, what is truth? "The Passion" may contain a lot of truth, but be careful not to take it as gospel, as it were. No one alive today knows what literally happened during those 12 hours.

But only someone who's already anti-Semitic -- who doesn't really understand Christianity at all -- could come out of "The Passion" "blaming the Jews."

Gibson makes it very clear that Jesus sacrificed himself: "I lay down my life for my sheep," he says just before he crawls onto the cross. "I lay it down of my own accord.Ê.Ê.Ê. This is the command of my father." The Christian view is that just as Christ died for all, so all are complicit, which is why Gibson filmed his own hand, anonymously, pounding the first nail into Christ's hand.

"The Passion" is provocative. It stirs the blood, sickens the stomach, lodges in the mind. See it, think about it, discuss it, accept it or quibble with it. Mel Gibson made it, but it's your turn now.
 
Thank you for posting those two reviews, PQ. They were extremely thoughtful and well-written. Although I did not want to see the movie, and will not, I experienced seeing it vicariously today. I have a psychotherapy client who saw it last Wednesday and his feelings about it dominated our session today. Like the first reviewer you quoted, my client was an altar boy for many years. I wonder if all former altar boys are feeling pulled to see it.
 
I would have posted my own review, but only our daughter has been able to see it so far. Our kids are members of and Inter-Faith/Non-Demoninational Religious "Club" that meets in the mornings before school.

The "Club" went to see "Passion" over the weekend, but schedule conflicts prevented our other 2 kids from going. The "Club" saw the movie as part of a "Sold-Out" Youth Group special showing. Our daughter said "Passion" was showing in 2 other theatres in the Multiplex, and all 3 showings were "Sold Out", SRO.

This Youth Group showing was well planned in advance. All the teens under age 17 had to have permission slips signed by their parents. Phone numbers/contact information had to be included so the organizers could verify with parents the teens could attend. Counselors were available during the movie. Afterward, the Counselors spent time with the teens in small groups discussing the film over hot chocolate.

The times our family has had available, the theatres have been sold out with waiting lists. When my daughter got home, I asked her about the movie. She was speechless. She said, "You had to be there, Mom. You have to experience it!" Our daughter wants to see "Passion" again. She felt she missed a lot because she was so overwhelmed by the whole experience.
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AGBF, I think that your right - I probably do take religion quite lightly - a while ago this wouldn't have been true. I have appreciated the articles you posted - it has made me think quite deeply. Thank you for this.

I too, will not be going to see this movie. The violence is too much. I believe that far too much violence and horror is perpetrated by the so called "faithful". The faithful of any belief. Whether politics, religion, sport or the all consuming passion - the accumulation of money.
 
PCQ, those were indeed great reviews IMO. I *did* see it. And I originally went with great reluctance because I knew it would be brutal, but I went as I felt it was necessary for my own faith. And I'm glad I did, painful as it was to sit through. Getting past the "hollywoodness" of it was no problem as I was there for a completely different reason. I felt paralyzed for the first 15 minutes after the show ended, literally pressed in my seat and could do nothing but weep as I tried to gather myself and restore my breathing back to "normal." *No one* in the room escaped tears. If anything it has strengthen my faith, and reaffirmed my belief. I will *never* view communion the same way again.
 
I'm so glad you posted, K-Mom!!
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You voiced the sentiment of the movie precisely. "Passion" is not about violence. It's about love and redemption.
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Follow-up to the Youth Group that went to the movie. Our daughter had a visit last night. Counselors were out doing follow up calls on the kids that came to the Youth Group viewing of "Passion". They were checking on the kids, and making themselves available to answer any questions or help with any problems. The kids that came along with the counselors gave my daughter a softdrink and a bag of microwave popcorn to Thank her for "Popping In".
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PQC, your daughter sounds like she belongs to a wonderful group with supportive leaders. I was surprised to see as many youngsters there as I did, and was even more surprised to see some *really* young ones there (like 8-9 yrs old); kids of pastors and such (my pastor's included). Personally I have chosen not to even let my 12 yr old see it at this time. He knows about the events, I don't think he needs the graphic detail at this point in his life. I believe anyone who chooses to see this movie will be touched by it somehow, whether they are a believer or not. And I think that's the whole point.

PQC please check your PM.
 
PQC, thatnk for those reviews I REALLY enjoyed them! I DID see the movie...yeesh!




I went to a Sunday Matinee with my BF to see it ast weekend, as it even sold out in 30 minutes after opening that day. We watched many "children", like 6, and under watch that movie. One little guy, no more than 2-3 years old was running around the front with his bigger brother about 6 chasing him. WHAT THE HECK is WRONG with these


parents?! Honestly, I had trouble with it how could a little child with no filters and little adult rationalization be forced to watch this?! I don't understand how some people even take their kids to movies with cursing and violence at those ages?!




Call me totally old fashioned, but when I have children, they will have some serious censorship on my part until they are at least 12 or so! LORD!
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