EAT THE PAIN . . .

After church, during the fellowship hour, the food prepared was ... PASTA.
GOOD PASTA.
DELICIOUS, AROMATIC, PLENTIFUL PASTA.
It was TAUNTING me, I swear!

All of it was prepared just the way I love it too:
There was baked ziti in meat sauce, the meat clinging to each tube by just the barest amount of thick tomato sauce.
There was spaghetti noodles with vegetables and meat, almost dry, but smelling so so so flavorful.
There was macaroni and cheese, baked just enough so that the macaroni didn't dry out, and with just enough cheese so that it wasn't overly gooey.

I was dying.

And the worst part was that I got recruited to help pack up the leftovers (and of course, there were POUNDS and POUNDS of leftovers). Each noodle that got stuck to my finger, each noodle that I dropped on the table by mistake, each noodle that I plopped into the styrofoam containers, was like a dagger in my heart. Or stomach. Or taste buds.

But I persevered. I turned my nose up against the temptation, and proceeded to pathetically pick the vegetables and meat out of the dishes, savoring the eau de pasta as much as I could, second-hand. Ahhhh, for it to be Easter already ...

***

PASSION-LESS . . .

NHF is going to see "The Passion of the Christ" this Wednesday evening. I don't know yet if I'll go or not. I expect I'll know when I find myself parking Good Girl in the cineplex parking lot.

My resistance to this movie is manifold. First of all, I don't believe the hype. No, actually, I do believe the hype, but I hate it. The hype is why I did not and still have not seen "Titanic." Perhaps it's a subconscious desire to be 'different', not one of the madding crowd, not another sheep to be lassoed in by heavy advertising and overbearing word of mouth. Perhaps it's a subversive disbelief that any movie that is SO popular can really be that good. Although ... "Legally Blonde" was pretty damn good. Whatever it is, I am turned off by everyone and anyone talking about "The Passion of the Christ." Quite frankly, I'm sick of hearing about it, and everyone talking about the story like it's something new; slinging accusations of anti-Semitism as if those accusations were never made before; expressing shock at the violence of Christ's crucifixion as if the blood and gore and flogging and punishment was unexpected. I suppose some might think it a wretched thing to say, especially about my Lord who died for my sins, but ... I find the hubbub to be tedious.

Secondly, I am resistant to the idea of seeing this movie with my church, with other Christians. I don't want to be the only one who might not like it, who might not think it's a good film, who might not be affected by it, who might be bored by it, who might consider my evening better spent watching "The West Wing." What if the movie ends, and it has had no meaning for me as a film or as a narrative, and I have to endure hordes and hordes of my friends and family weeping or walking somberly in silence because they cannot fathom conversation post facto? What if I'm the only one who wants to go out for a bite to eat afterwards, unaware that people around me can't stomach food at the moment?

I also have a tendency to be reactionary, no matter what my actual stance is. I am awfully good at turning into the devil's advocate, even if I completely and utterly agree with the opinion or belief against which I am reacting. So I fear that I will go into the movie theater and sit through the film with my arms crossed, determined not to like it and not to find value in it just because I know everyone else WILL. Surrounded by a bunch of weeping believers, I have a tendency not to weep. Surrounded by "Jesus freaks," I have a tendency to swing to the religious left. Surrounded by people who want serious discussion and to conduct an autopsy of the movie, I have a tendency to want to talk about baseball. Not because I don't believe Christ died for my sins; not because I don't understand the enormity of what that means and how great the Father's love for me is; not because I am not overwhelmed by Jesus's sacrifice; not because I am frivolous and vacuous. Just because.

And that's a terrible thing ... I am trying to change, and trying to go with the flow when necessary. I know cerebrally that "The Passion of the Christ" is an important film for a variety of reasons. I know it is significant to believers and non-believers alike, and I do believe that the message, regardless of whether it's espoused by Mel Gibson's "Traditionalist" Catholic movement or evangelical Christians, or opposed by Jews or liberals, speaks to us all and has the potential to positively affect millions. Perhaps I even know that I can stomach the gore and embrace the movie for all of its values.

But ... I am yet undecided. Do I head out on Wednesday evening stocked with Kleenex? Do I storm into the theater with my arms crossed and my jaw clenched in reactionary reaction? Do I sit this one out and be proud that I survived the hype?