Today I at long last screwed up courage to watch Mel Gibson's "The Passion of The Christ". I don't do Certificate 18 films at the best of times, being more of a Pride and Prejudice gal, and this is particularly gory. I think the critic Mark Kermode, who must have seen many a film in his day, said it was the most violent film he'd ever seen.
But I wanted to show it to the prisoners, and so I sat with six and a half men (well seven to start with then one left before the end!) and watched it with them this afternoon. The bits with "the mum" (Mary) got to us all and I confess I didn't physically watch every second of the film. I had to stare at the floor or the wall several times, and for longish periods, particularly during the scene where Jesus is whipped mercilessly. But I did my best. I kept thinking, "if he went through all that, and I have benefitted so spectacularly, the least I can do is give up two hours to watch this".
If you're the praying kind, please pray for the guys who watched it, some of whom I know and some I don't, that it won't be just another violent film, but that they'll understand. It was Good Friday 1979 when I first began to "get it" about what the cross was all about. I pray they'll all "get it" too.