REV Peter Macdonald, the minister of St George’s West Church, has only once
used his power of veto. He didn’t turn down Julian Clary, whose show Natural
Born Mincer was staged in his church. He didn’t even quail at Hank Wangfold’s
adults-only cabaret show 100% Sex Therapy, though he did draw the line, not
unreasonably, at a show purported to combine burlesque with masked Mexican wrestling.
“I was told that there would be no full-frontal nudity or midget throwing,”
he says. “That was by way of reassurance!”

This year, he faced a different kind of dilemma. Bigger Than Jesus, a questioning,
satirical look at the Son of God by Rick Miller, the man who brought us MacHomer,
was the first show proposed for St George’s West which dealt directly with Christianity.
It describes Jesus as “son of Joseph, lover of Mary Magdalene”, compared
the four Gospel writers to the Beatles, and features a last supper with Homer
Simpson, the Tin Man and Darth Vader.

Macdonald, however, watched the show on DVD and loved it. “Rather than
a problem, I really wanted it to be here. It’s a really good show, and there
is a reverence in it for ritual and the language of the liturgy. I think Christians
in the audience will respond positively to that. It’s also very funny.”

In conversation with Macdonald and Miller it becomes clear that this remarkable
acceptance of a show which questions Christian orthodoxy is part of a much bigger
debate. We are used to seeing Christians as an outraged minority seeking to
censor that which disagrees with them - the outcry against Jerry Springer: The
Opera is just one example. But where it is possible for the arts and theology
to engage, the results can be very fruitful.

Though Miller says that he “does not believe in a literal God or a literal
Son of God”, he is a long way away from God-denying atheists such as Richard
Dawkins. Bigger Than Jesus is a project close to his heart, and is as serious
as it is satirical. Raised a strict Catholic, he was playing the Son of God
in Jesus Christ Superstar when he became fascinated by the impact Jesus has
had down the ages, and shocked by what was being perpetrated in his name in
the modern world.

“Jesus is so present in everyone’s life. Whether you like it or not, you
have to have some reaction to the fact there are crosses around people’s necks,
and that the President of the United States has said candidly that he has a
special link to Jesus. All these things make you think that you cannot deny
the place of Christianity in the world, and you might as well explore it in
a serious way to try to come to terms with it.”

Audiences, it seems, agree. The show has attracted widespread popular and critical
acclaim in Canada and the United States, and is attracting good audiences in
Edinburgh. Whereas two decades ago, shows about religion on the Fringe were
considered barely relevant, world events have changed all that.

“We have the continuing troubles in the Middle-East, the Palestine-Israel
issue, Iraq, al-Qaeda,” says Macdonald. “Religion isn’t the cause
of those things, but it’s part of that complex web of issues, and people are
aware that you can’t understand these situations if you don’t understand the
religious dimension. There are generations now which have almost completely
lost touch with institutional or formal religion, and they’re being confronted
again by the whole faith issue. In [David Greig's play] Damascus at the Traverse,
this Scotsman finds himself in Damascus, where he’s asked what faith he is:
‘Are you Christian, Muslim or Buddhist?’ That’s what a lot of people are finding:
others are able to articulate and show how important their faith is to them
and they are left wondering what their beliefs actually are.”

Bigger Than Jesus is the product of a lengthy research and study by Miller
and his Jewish director and co-writer Daniel Brooks. Although you may not realise
it, by the time you reach the final segment of the play in which Miller plays
Jesus himself, you will have heard summarised a variety of theological and philosophical
positions, from Nietzsche to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

His Jesus is a very human figure, entertaining, conversational and rather bemused
by the movement spawned in his name which has, in fact, become bigger than he
is. In his last words of advice he exhorts mankind to “love one another”
and “always lift with your legs”.

Macdonald says that many Christians will not have trouble with the fact that
Miller does not make any claim for Jesus’ divine parentage. “I think some
Christians do understand the ‘Son of God’ as an almost biological thing. Clearly
it’s not that, it’s about metaphor, it’s a way of describing a relationship
that Jesus had with the divine. But if you were to say to me: ‘Is Jesus the
Christ?’, then ‘yes’.”

“I don’t think anyone in our congregation, or any of the mainstream churches,
would have much difficulty with the portrayal you make,” he tells Miller.
“One of the things I found interesting is that because your portrayal is
really powerful, at the end you feel that Jesus is bigger than all of that stuff,
the misunderstandings, the misconceptions, the deceit that has been done in
his name. That somehow the man and his story rises above that.”

The surprise of the show is not the sharpness of its satire, but its uncanny
reverence. Loosely structured along the lines of a Catholic mass, it offers
something of a spiritual experience as well as a cerebral one. It asks more
questions than it answers, but implies that the questions themselves have some
spiritual value.

Miller jokes that he has become “the Mel Gibson of the religious Left”.
“In the same way as his movie was being promoted on church websites, this
show is embraced by a group from various Christian denominations who don’t necessarily
have anything to rally around.

“I would actually argue that there more of those than the loud voiced
fundamentalists. The religious Right, because they have answers, are very united
and they’re very adept at communicating, using technology, making their voice
heard. The religious Left can’t unite around questions. But there are many people
who are desiring of a spirituality and a connection.”

Peter Macdonald was struck by the way in which the play uses elements of story,
ritual and language to communicate the spiritual. “I think one of the reasons
why progressive Christians have responded to Bigger Than Jesus is because more
and more people can’t accept literalist understandings. They would see themselves
- as the show says - within the church of the rational mind. They don’t want
to leave their intellect in the vestibule, they want to worship as a whole person.”

He says this cuts right to the heart of why he decided to open the doors of
his church to the Fringe. Rather than retreating into a Christian ghetto, making
occasional forays out in search of converts, he wanted to engage with the contemporary
world through the arts.

“Many people would understand a lot of the Christian faith as being around
metaphor, and theatre and the arts can open that up for people. People are falling
back on the story, because it’s not really about answers, it’s about people
trying to live the story, and that’s the journey that the liturgy takes you
on. Sometimes religious belief seems to deny life, it seems to restrict and
control, but there is a side which wants to celebrate life, to encourage people
to embrace fullness of life. For me that’s what that the Christian faith is
about.”

While many churches open their buildings for Fringe performance, Macdonald’s
robust attitude is a beacon to others. Responding the decision to stage Julian
Clary, he quipped: “Other churches might not want gay bishops. We are happy
to welcome camp comedians.” And when 100% Sex Therapy was announced he
got in every newspaper by saying: “It was my hope that hosting [the show]
would provide an opportunity to show that not all Christians are narrow-minded,
puritanical and judgmental. Some of us can get our knickers off, rather than
in a twist.”

But he does admit that 100% Sex Therapy “did fill the mail bag”.
How does he deal with that? “Well, most people who write letters about
films or plays are people who haven’t seen the show, so I would suggest that
they do that, then we would have the kind of discussion that Rick and I have
just had.

“One of the things that has been fundamental in our involvement in the
Fringe is that no-one has the right not to be offended. I don’t think anyone
in the arts should begin with the premise that they must not offend anybody.
Sometimes our values, our attitudes, our beliefs need to be challenged. We need
to be offended.”

He admits that he enjoyed Bigger Than Jesus so much that one or two lines might
find their way into his sermons. “If ever I need to deliver a lecture or
teaching of any kind on the Synoptic Gospels, I’ll be borrowing some of your
ideas,” he tells Miller.

“Well,” Miller smiles, “I’ll give you a script.”