7even Days: The (Com)Passion of the Christ

There'll be no Macgyver this Black Saturday. Once a year, from Thursday thru Saturday, network TV programming give way to commemorate the last three days of Lent. For three morbid days, classic movies such as the Ten Commandments, The Robe, Jesus Christ Superstar, and countless versions of the passion of the Christ will permeate the airwaves. Cable, Satellite TV, the Internet, were light years away, and my family didn't own a VCR.

Come Friday, The Seven Last Words is aired nationwide—a program where high-ranking Catholic bishops in the country will give their sermons and interpretations of the "last seven words" Christ had uttered before dying on the cross. Somewhere in the provinces, a devotee is being crucified, for real, as an act of penance, while some believers test their anting-anting (amulets) after feeding it with oraciones (prayers). Near the main road where we live, flaggellants are marching in line as their half-naked bodies bleed from their self-inflicted wounds. The neighbors are holding a service called pasyon, where old men and women with eerie hi-pitched voices, sounding like a band of creepy mourners, are reciting prayers and stories about the suffering of Christ.

There'll be no meat for today, just fish and vegetables... no going out of the house... and no bathing too. Why? I asked the elders. Because God just died.

These are my memories of the Lenten Season while growing up in the only predominantly Catholic country in South East Asia. I'm sure a lot has changed since then. However, there are times when I find myself drifting into memory lane, reliving and smiling at those memories. Behind the smile, however, are faint sorrows, and ominous sense of dread. I wish those depressing feelings would go away. I hate that feeling, as if I’ve lost a distant relative.

I doubt I will be shocked by Mel Gibson's The Passion of The Christ. I’ve seen it all; all the variations of the crucifixion, from the point of view of Mary, John, Pontius Pilate, Barabas, and recently, The Last Temptation of Christ. I don’t remember hating the Jews then, even the Romans. How could I? I don’t even know them. And the term anti-semitism is fairly new in my vocabulary.

I confess that I no longer identify with the religion I grew up with. Like others who got tired of the limitations of the worldviews offered by Christianity in general, and Catholicism in particular, I ventured out of the flock in search of a more-embracing meaning. But I never converted. I never felt compelled to jump from one box into another. In fact, I found a new sense of respect, understanding, and tolerance that I didn’t have before. And this is why I’m looking forward to watch The Passion of The Christ. I want to see it not because I want to strengthen my faith, or argue in behalf or against its “historical accuracy.” I want to see it to admire its artistry; its re-enactment of the greatest story ever told; like watching a remake of my favorite classic movie.

As the opening day gets closer, the eerie mood gets stronger. My only wish is that, in some future prequels, whether based on the Four or the Lost Gospels, maybe, instead of just the "passion," someone would make a movie about the The Compassion of The Christ.

[This concludes the 7even Days theme.]