Corpus Christi: an antidote to The Passion

Christianity has never held even the most remote appeal to me. Raised in a non-denominational home, I have always felt the idea of integrating any religious doctrine into my life distasteful, especially one that seems (if contradictorily) so pernicious and underhanded. Instead, I have found through art a sense of spiritual and ethical comprehension, and have been able to approach and accept religion on my own terms.

Yet, I am left somewhat uninspired when Mel Gibson's "Passion" is the only religiously driven form of art widely available to us. An alternative that has become increasingly affecting to me in the last five weeks of rehearsal is Terrence McNally's "Corpus Christi." "Corpus Christi," which goes up on Thursday, March 11 at the Balch Arena Theater, is a play about love. It is a play that attempts to return to the essence of Jesus' teachings and the fundamental, unadulterated message of the New Testament -- that, as the play puts it, "all men are equal, all men are ordinary, and all men are divine." It also examines the extent to which this message has been perverted and forgotten in the millennia since his death and crucifixion.

While the idea that all of humanity had a part in Jesus' death is perhaps the most important and penetrating message in the Christian faith, "The Passion" surpasses this message of love that is so central to the faith. In a time when the unforgivable acts of more and more priests are being exposed every day, and gay marriage is condemned as somehow "unholy," I wonder exactly who and what "The Passion" is trying to expose.

McNally's trick is that he approaches authenticity through some of the most unconventional and inevitably controversial measures possible. In his adaptation, Jesus is a young boy from present day Corpus Christi, Texas. He, along with all twelve of his apostles, is gay. McNally is himself a gay Catholic from Texas, and his artistic choices reflect a continual examination and approach to the faith that has persistently abandoned him. Unfortunately, his opposition seems dedicated to maintain a stasis of thought and action, a characteristic oddly contradictory to the Word itself.

Upon its unveiling in 1998, the play was greeted with numbingly predictable furor. A right-wing Christian group called "The National Security Movement of America" condemned the "Jew guilty homosexual Terence McNally," and the Manhattan Theater Club was forced to cancel its opening due to bomb threats and intimidations to the staff (it finally went up a month later).

Perhaps what scared these groups is that "Corpus Christi" humanizes the characters of the New Testament. It does not leave them behind in the archaic, Aramaic-speaking Greco-Roman world, but brings them to us. What many seem to have illogically neglected is that in his day, Jesus was hated -- he posed such a threat that he was put to death on a cross. Today, what could be scarier than the prospect of a gay Jesus? What could be more detrimental to our worldview, more challenging to our beliefs? Similarly, what could provide us with a better opportunity to open our hearts and examine our actions?

By modernizing the story, McNally is offering all of us another chance: a chance to align that which we believe with our behavior and find a newfound appreciation for our fellow man. While at times didactic, the play is never unrealistic. It is truthful and honest, full of pain and joy. While "The Passion" strives to condemn the death of Jesus and those supposedly responsible, McNally instead decides to celebrate His life, His word, and His message.

Seth Pitman is a junior majoring in English.