I attended the June 1 performance, and agree that it's very moving and powerful. As much so as I recall it being 10 years ago. It was cold and rainy for our performance as well, but we were prepared, and he cold was not a problem. As with the 2000 performance, I was struck by the depth and maturity of the theology presented, and especially with the very strong evangelical slant. I would not have expected such an "establishment" production in Germany to be so evangelical. While one once had to be a member of the Catholic church to participate, they now accept participants of any (or no) faith. But I cannot imagine how a non-believer could participate in a significant way, through 100+ performances, and remain a non-believer.

In this year's play, I noted that they've removed the line from 2000 where the Prolog (narrator) says, essentially, "Do not assume that it is these people who have condemned Jesus to death - it is all of us here and in the audience whose sins have caused his punishment!" This was a line that was part of an overhaul to the text intended to ensure that the play did not insinuate guilt upon Jews as "Christ-killers." I did notice this year (may have been there in 2000 as well) that the term "Jude" (Jew) was never spoken on stage except in reference to Jesus himself. New (I believe) this year is a moment that struck me like a thunderbolt: Watch what the Angel does with his finger during the "agony in the Garden of Gethsemane" scene!

A group that saw the performance previous to ours said that the orchestra had some intonation problems, but for the June 1 performance, my wife (a trained musician) and I were both blown away by the professionalism of the orchestra and especially the chorus. The score does not require some of the musical acrobatics that some scores do, but I don't think you're likely to hear a higher-quality choral sound anywhere on earth than we heard in Oberammergau this year. Absolutely spine-tingling!

Since my in-laws were scheduled to attend the play two days later, we were in town with them on the morning of their performance. We used this opportunity to attend what is called an "introduction" to the play. It is offered at 11:00 on performance days only. Typically, the "introduction" is offered in German by the play's director, Christian Stuckl, and in English by the assistant director, Otto Huber. The opportunity to hear about the thoughts that went into the script from the man who is responsible for a large part of it was a huge highlight for us. Mr. Huber said his family included one person who had died in the plague, and another who had taken part in the first performance in 1634. Mr. Huber also plays the part of the Prolog, and his father or grandfather had at one point been both Prolog and a soloist. Mr. Huber's son plays in the orchestra, and is assistant director of the Children's Passion Play, a version presented entirely by the children of Oberammergau in July (next time, we're coming in July!).

During the performance I had had the distinct impression that Pilate was dressed an awful lot like an SS officer, and when the rabble shouts, "Er sterbe!" (He shall die!) and thrusts their arms forward, I had been chilled to notice how similar it was to cries of "Sieg Heil" in a Nuremburg Nazi rally (I had noticed this in 2000 as well). Well, it turns out that Mr. Huber himself confirmed that these allusions are intentional.

Another interesting note from the "introduction:" Passion plays initially arose from the focus in the middle ages on the substitution of Jesus as the sufferer of punishment for man's sins. The thought arose, then, that if Jesus was punished for man's sins, then why did man continue to suffer (e.g., the 30 years war an the plague that prompted the initial Oberammergau vow)? So the passion plays were initially staged with God as the primary intended audience, to remind Him that Jesus had suffered ("see, God, here He is, suffering. Remember?), so that God would remember that man no longer needed to be punished.

Despite the cold and rain (this was the coldest May in southern Germany in the last 100 years), I have not yet found anyone who did not consider the performance to be well worth what it cost to be there.

I've always loved the way the Bavarian/Austrian Trachten clothing looks, and am always seriously tempted to buy a suit. But it would not really be something I could wear for any occasion in the U.S., and although I'm in Germany from time to time, I would feel a little self-conscious wearing it even there, because for me it would really just be a costume, whereas for Bavarians and Austrians, it has real meaning - a witness to long-standing tradition. It stands for something that is generally not found at all in the U.S. As much as it appeals to me, I recognize that I cannot know what it must be like to embody traditions of a community that are centuries old and have been carried from father to son and mother to daughter through a long line that exists for the moment in you. But beyond that, it stirs my soul to imagine the feeling, either at the "renewal of the vow" ceremony that starts a new Passion Play season, or at the celebration that I assume occurs after the last performance, when the Trachten are worn by those who have fulfilled the vow yet again, in this, their 3rd or 4th decade, having first appeared on stage as a child, and as their parents had done, and their parents before them...

What must that be like? I suppose I'll never know.