"Jesus Christ Superstar": A Hermeneutic Tool for Modern Catholicism

Sad But True

(In another week or two I’ll return to posting about old books, but for now there’s this.)

Why are we where we are? Why is the Church seemingly so messed up? I’ll tell you. And, believe it or not, this is not primarily a post about the now-departed Pope Francis. (Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine. Et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace. Amen.)

I’ve been reading Darcy O’Brien’s The Hidden Pope, which is about John Paul II, his friendship with a Jewish man, and “The Untold Story of a Lifelong Friendship That Is Changing the Relationship Between Catholics and Jews.” (I was primarily reading it for my other Substack: Hannah Arendt was Right, which looks at anti-Semitism and Catholicism.) O’Brien is a gushing spirit of Vatican II acolyte, and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about Pope Wojtyla.

O’Brien strikes the motherlode in Chapter 4, when he writes about “Wojtyla’s theatrical talents, his ability to rivet an audience even when he was scarcely more than a boy in school productions. What was new and especially pleasing was how the intimacy of television brought his inner goodness to a world-wide audience. The hand gestures that bestowed warmth, the loving smile with its hint of mirth, those penetrating yet accepting eyes—none of these were lost on camera.” And, “Wojtyla’s sudden stardom [in 1978 and after] suggested that Christ did still matter in a world enthralled by mundane icons” (27-28).

Pope John Paul II has played an important role in my spiritual journey. When I was drawn to Catholicism, George Weigel’s biography of the Polish pope, Witness to Hope, served as a signpost indicating God was leading me in the right direction. Later, Paul Kengor’s book about the pope and President Reagan, A Pope and a President, revealed the moral compass behind anti-Communism. But as I bore into Tradition I began to see that John Paul had embodied a deviation from received teaching and practice, especially in two actions. First, his endorsement and facilitation of religious indifferentism at the Assisi prayer meeting, which paved the way for the Pachamama blasphemy and scandal under Pope Francis. And, John Paul II became the equivalent of a rock star, playing to crowds as big or bigger than Woodstock or other rock festivals. Young people chanted “JP 2, we love you.” He was the cool pontiff who skied. He kissed the ground when he arrived in another country, and he traveled everywhere. Paul VI had begun the era of the jet-setting pope, but JP II expanded it and embodied it. His life on the world’s stage led to crowds crying “santo subito” as he lay in his coffin—make him a saint NOW, the people exclaimed.*

JPII heralded the pope as…superstar. It was an expansion of human scale to mass audiences, from teaching moments into events with production values. That spoke to me, child of the sixties and seventies and eager attendee at rock shows like Pink Floyd in Montreal’s Olympic Stadium. I was also influenced from my early teen years by the musical, “Jesus Christ Superstar.” I heard the original record (with Deep Purple’s Ian Gillan and Murray Head, in my opinion the best cast); I owned an 8-track of the original Broadway production; I saw the Norman Jewison-directed movie with a fantastic Carl Anderson as Judas; I saw it on stage in the 1990s; and a band I was in played the Overture. But now, as a practicing traditional Catholic I can say: This is BAD theology.

Unfortunately, JC Superstar helps illustrate what’s wrong with things in the Church today. The message of salvation has become obscured, downplayed, even altered: “Do you think you’re what they say you are?” Modern media drowns out prayerful consideration: “What’s the buzz, tell me what’s a happening” and “Israel…had no mass communication.” Judas is in some ways the central and most interesting character, though it’s Jesus who is the superstar. Judas challenges Jesus as to his wisdom in the PR wars, comparing him to Muhammad at one point. Oh, and there’s the multi-ethnic cast in the movie, similar to the Church of the peripheries promoted by Francis.

Composers Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber had some interesting points to make about celebrity, perhaps even more timely then they ever envisioned. “Jesus Christ Superstar” (which fittingly first came out in 1970, the year of the change to the Novus Ordo) could well be seen as the official sponsor of the perverted new Church of modernism painted so vividly by St. Pius X in his warnings.

So far, neither of JPII’s successors has fully emulated him. Benedict was more the professor, who partially returned the papal presence to a more human scale in keeping with his professorial bent. Francis, however, took advantage of the JPII innovations to influence media and opinion in his favor, but in more overtly ideological tones than the Polish pope.

I hope the next Holy Father will turn away from mass media and turn to the Mass of the Ages. That is the proper hermeneutic for the Holy Catholic Church. Pray God we may get back where we belong. No more superstars, thank you very much.

• It can be noted I have not referred to him as a canonized saint. I mean no disrespect to him nor do I make any claims about his personal piety and sanctity. I do question how his embrace of other religions can be squared with sainthood. I recommend two books on the subject: Fr. Patrick De La Rocque, FSSPX, Pope John Paul II, Doubts About a Beatification; and, Are Canonizations Infallible? Edited by Peter Kwasniewski. See also We Resist You To the Face, by Guimaraes, et al.