The Passion. His Passion. My Passion

For the last couple of days I have been trying to catch up with 'The Passion', episodes of which have been broadcast on BBC3 during this week. I haven't seen the Mel Gibson film 'The Passion of the Christ' and so this is potentially, other than 'The Miracle Maker' (which I'm not sure counts!) the first time I have sat and watched a production of the last week of Jesus life of earth.

Within the first two minutes of the opening episdoe I was spiritually distraught. Watch any program and subconciously (or not!) you decide who you like, who you don't and who you want to 'win'.

I couldn't stand the Jesus character. There was just something about him I didn't like. Everytime he opened his mouth, I cringed. The only thing I can put it down to was the tone of his voice when he spoke - it just wasn't my Jesus.

For the rest of the episode I was completely distracted.....what if I don't like Jesus. What if, the Son, God sent for me, I don't like? It never crossed my mind before, but this person who is pivetol to my faith, what if I simply don't like him?

I had to talk about it. Mum came to the rescue. She explained that she hadn't watched the program for that reason - she doesn't like watching other people's depictions of her Jesus. Maybe that's it. Maybe everyone has their 'own' Jesus, in the sense that we're all individuals and we have our own picture and experience of who He is.

I persevered and watched the 3rd episode this evening. My previous experience was still in the back of my mind, but tucked away to try and take in the next installment.

It broke my heart.

I cried. Like, proper cried. I felt physically sick as Jesus was instructed to crawl into position on the cross. And as he was hoisted up, the guilt within me grew to an unbearable level. My personal responsibility in His death became a reality and all I feel is guilt.

At the moment I have no idea what I can do about that. I'm not sure that the life I live is by any means, worth it.