Don’t You Get Me Wrong Now

I went to see a local production of Jesus Christ Superstar last night.  There are many things that have informed my Catholicism  — you know, the Bible.  Church services.  My priest.  Saint Books.  Those Catholic picture books.  Mariology.  Ornate Cathedrals.

But especially, Jesus Christ Superstar.  I would ride my bike down the sidewalk singing “I Don’t Know How to Love Him.”  My sisters and I did beanie baby throw shoes (in which you dance while throwing the beanie babies up in the air).  I did productions of Jesus Christ Superstar with my paper dolls in an all-girl cast.  I’ve talked about this before, but it was one Lent, after listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, that I realized Jesus’ pain relating to his death, even if it was willing.  “Gethsemane” gave me a soundtrack to experience Holy Thursday and become better involved in my Church services.  I would spend countless hours arranging spools of thread like the angels in Heaven and practicing “Heaven on Their Minds.”  Listen Jesus to the warning I give…. Imagining the 39 lashes given to Jesus, marring his body is embodied through song.  (The scenes with Pilate and the crowd gave me a very real depiction of hurt and anger, more than what I was getting in my stale Catholic school.  But it made me pay attention in Church.  The rituals during Lent and Holy Week became alive for me.)

Now that I reflect on my Catholic beliefs:  low-Christology, political, melodramatic, belief in the real resurrection as when people remember — came from my religion, but it also came from Jesus Christ Superstar.

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