The Passion of the Crisis

Let me begin by saying that since learning that the so-advertised "non-religious" charity organization I am currently working with is actually extremely Christian (maybe, if I had looked closer, I would have noticed one of their school's names: Camp Joshua Christian School"), I have tried to be as open minded and diplomatic as possible about the beliefs and teachings of educators at the various orphanages and schools run by it. After all, what does religion matter if good values and a good education are at stake? Thus I set the stage for today, whose first scene begins with me learning upon arrival at work that I am to assist with preparing our television and DVD player to watch "The Passion of the Christ."

Now, I remember this film being criticized as somewhat anti-Semitic (it is), and somewhat very violent, but I also remember the film being very interesting with regards to linguistics and period costume, and so ignored that part of me that thought better of playing accomplice.

As the film started all 60-some 2-12 year old pairs of eyes were glued to the monitor. One of the teachers sat besides the machinery to commentate (the kids aren't quite at the point in their classes where lightning-fast English subtitles are suitable). Good, I thought, finally something that they might be able to sit through in its entirety. However, around forty five minutes in things turned south with the lashing scene. Wow, I had completely forgotten how graphic Mel Gibson likes to be. Within five minutes of this gruesome (and ridiculously long) scene one of the eldest girls started bawling. Within two minutes the sobs of nearly half the room were heard rebounding against themselves. What was I thinking? This was clearly not appropriate viewing for young children. I began recalling in my head that the rest of the movie doesn't get much better. As soon as the scene and with it, I assured myself, the first DVD ended, I would have to do something to stop this. But how long would this damned scene last?

Then, a miracle happened. About two-thirds through this excruciating hail of lashings and groans the DVD skipped and paused. The head teacher, with a tint of impatience, called me over to the player as the sobs of the children subsided a little. I took the DVD out of the player and began to pretend to look for scratches. "Yes, I don't think it will be viewable. Sorry" I said, relieved. "What? Ok, then put in the next DVD" the teacher happily demanded. "Um, uh," I stuttered, looking for a good excuse to avoid what would be another hour and a half of hell on earth. Finally, I realized the only way out was to fess up and stand by my "effics," regardless of whether I was thwarting her authority or embarrassing my bosses. "Sorry," I looked up, "I don't think that this is appropriate for the children. I can't put this in." For a little while the teacher tried to coax me into playing it, but when she realized that I wouldn't budge she shrugged her shoulders and left the room. I proceeded to put in a Charlie Chaplin DVD (now there is a genius) as an awkward silence enveloped the room.

Charlie Chaplin may not have caught the attention of the kids as well as Mel Gibson did- although it did a good job holding its ground against modern Hollywood cinematography- but at least the kids won't get reoccurring nightmares and entrenched anti-Semitic opinions from it. At the very least I'll be able to sleep better tonight.