Went to see the Passion on Saturday. Cathie and I got there about 45 minutes early to get a good seat and waited in line. There were about fifty people in front of us, so I figured we'd get a good seat. By the time we'd gotten into the theatre it was full. FULL. People had rushed in, saved 5 or 6 rows at a time. This sounds petty, but it pissed me off. I went to take a seat and was stopped by a man who told me he'd saved the seats and the manager said it was alright. I explained that none of the 100 people he'd saved these seats for had waited in line, and to be fair to eveyrone, he should probably let them grab their own. He disagreed, I expressed my great displeasure, and I sat elsewhere, before I made too big of an ass of myself.

I thought the movie was very well done, very graphic, very true. Can't really say it was "great", but it made me think. Aside from the brutality of the whippings and the crucifixion, the thing that struck me the most was Mary. Seeing her watch her son tried, beaten and crucified made me think about how I would feel if I were in her situation, having to stand by and watch my son go through this and be powerless to stop it, knowing he was doing it of his own free-will. It reminded me of a time about five years ago when it finally clicked to me that God felt this same way about his son; that he loves Jesus as much as I love my kids. That this was as hard or harder for him to watch as it would be for me. Because of his infinitiy, I figured he could process it much differently than I would.
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