Sunday, April 15, 2007
Troupe finds passion in play
"Crucificalo! Crucificalo!" screamed a group of women.
Two strapping youths hoisted a wooden crucifix onto Garibay's shoulders. He edged off the platform and staggered along the perimeter of the sprawling parking lot, sometimes stumbling beneath the weight of the thick-beamed, 12-foot cross.
Whips cracked. A woman's agonized sobs filled the darkness.
This is the Passion Play, a re-enactment of Christ's brutal last hours. It has riveted believers since its first known production in 1150 continuing to Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" in 2004. That film reignited the controversy over broadly anti-Semitic elements that have disappeared from most modern versions.
For Jovenes, a young-adult group at St. Francis of Assisi Church in Concord, it is a pure labor of love.
If tonight is like years past, about 600 people will gather in the emptied lot, where chalk lines demarcate the Via Dolorosa.
"The idea is not just the pain," director Monica Iniguez said. "It's the extent of God's love for us, each and every one."
Iniguez held a flashlight over her clipboard as the procession neared its end. Keeping things organized is her toughest challenge, she said.
During the Middle Ages, peasants and tradesmen put on the productions and played the music. Many of the people in Jovenes work long hours and six-day weeks. They can't always make it to rehearsals. But mentally, they suffer no distractions.
"Nobody has taken drama," Iniguez said, pulling a drawstring through a Roman soldier's slatted skirt. "They are all just normal people."
But on Friday, "everybody all of a sudden will be really focused."
Chatting and laughing with the others, Maria Sanchez, 20, in her second year as Mary, held up fabric remnants that make up costumes for the play's townsfolk.
"These are for the people who cry, 'Jesus Christ -- Die! Die!'" she said. Sanchez will wear all black.
How does she feel during the procession?
"Oh my God, I can't explain," she said. "I feel really sad."
Her tears ran during the rehearsal.
This is the first year the group will perform the play live outdoors using remote microphones linked to a sound system.
In the past, the performers mimed to a prerecorded tape. Last year, they performed in the church gym. Their natural voices carried better, but the room quickly filled to capacity, and many had to be turned away.
Garibay, 24, has dreamed of playing the role of Jesus his whole life.
"I love this person," he said with a gentle smile. "The person is me. I've prayed all the time for this."
The Passion Play has moved the faithful to tears for centuries.
The story also uplifts, said Father Brian Joyce of Christ the King Church in Pleasant Hill.
"If you don't know the story, it's just the story of an execution," he said. "If you know the story, you know it has a happy ending. The message is, 'even out of this comes hope, comes life,' and that's not a bad lesson."
Two strapping youths hoisted a wooden crucifix onto Garibay's shoulders. He edged off the platform and staggered along the perimeter of the sprawling parking lot, sometimes stumbling beneath the weight of the thick-beamed, 12-foot cross.
Whips cracked. A woman's agonized sobs filled the darkness.
This is the Passion Play, a re-enactment of Christ's brutal last hours. It has riveted believers since its first known production in 1150 continuing to Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" in 2004. That film reignited the controversy over broadly anti-Semitic elements that have disappeared from most modern versions.
For Jovenes, a young-adult group at St. Francis of Assisi Church in Concord, it is a pure labor of love.
If tonight is like years past, about 600 people will gather in the emptied lot, where chalk lines demarcate the Via Dolorosa.
"The idea is not just the pain," director Monica Iniguez said. "It's the extent of God's love for us, each and every one."
Iniguez held a flashlight over her clipboard as the procession neared its end. Keeping things organized is her toughest challenge, she said.
During the Middle Ages, peasants and tradesmen put on the productions and played the music. Many of the people in Jovenes work long hours and six-day weeks. They can't always make it to rehearsals. But mentally, they suffer no distractions.
"Nobody has taken drama," Iniguez said, pulling a drawstring through a Roman soldier's slatted skirt. "They are all just normal people."
But on Friday, "everybody all of a sudden will be really focused."
Chatting and laughing with the others, Maria Sanchez, 20, in her second year as Mary, held up fabric remnants that make up costumes for the play's townsfolk.
"These are for the people who cry, 'Jesus Christ -- Die! Die!'" she said. Sanchez will wear all black.
How does she feel during the procession?
"Oh my God, I can't explain," she said. "I feel really sad."
Her tears ran during the rehearsal.
This is the first year the group will perform the play live outdoors using remote microphones linked to a sound system.
In the past, the performers mimed to a prerecorded tape. Last year, they performed in the church gym. Their natural voices carried better, but the room quickly filled to capacity, and many had to be turned away.
Garibay, 24, has dreamed of playing the role of Jesus his whole life.
"I love this person," he said with a gentle smile. "The person is me. I've prayed all the time for this."
The Passion Play has moved the faithful to tears for centuries.
The story also uplifts, said Father Brian Joyce of Christ the King Church in Pleasant Hill.
"If you don't know the story, it's just the story of an execution," he said. "If you know the story, you know it has a happy ending. The message is, 'even out of this comes hope, comes life,' and that's not a bad lesson."
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