"THE GRAND INQUISITOR" -- A Parable for the Ages

It is in the nature of gems to be small, exceedingly rare and highly prized. So it is with Central Works in Berkeley, presenters of original plays, and its latest offering, "The Grand Inquisitor," a dramatic five-character play adapted from Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, ably interpreted by veteran actors Julian Lopez-Morillas and Michael Gene Sullivan.

With serendipitous timing, playwright Gary Graves, and director Jan Zvaifler, use Dostoevsky's parable to probe the attitudes of the Roman Catholic Church toward its flock, Jesus, Satan, God's presumed gift of free will and, indeed, faith itself -- issues as momentous now as in Dostoevsky's sixteenth century setting for Ivan's "poem." I say "serendipitous," of course, because of the resignation yesterday of Pope Benedict XVI, who as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger functioned, in effect, as the Church's modern version of the Grand Inquisitor.

Readers of The Brothers K. will recall the plot of "The Grand Inquisitor," positing an encounter between Christ, reincarnated briefly (though not in "the second coming" of End Times) and the Grand Inquisitor, the cardinal who in Seville the day before had presided over a "magnificent auto da fe" by which "almost a hundred heretics had, ad majoram gloria Dei, been burnt in the presence of the king, the court, the knights, the cardinals, the most charming ladies of the court and the whole population of Seville." Seeing Christ performing miracles on the steps of the cathedral, to the adulation of the crowd, the Grand Inquisitor orders Him to be arrested and imprisoned, whereupon he is subsequently referred to simply as "the Prisoner." The story (and Graves' play) then revolves around the Grand Inquisitor's interrogation of the Prisoner, who by remaining silent (as did Christ, for the most part, upon being apprehended), elicits a soul-scouring self-examination by the Church's most feared and powerful prince. What ensues, both in Dostoevsky's parable and Graves' play, is a searing indictment of the Church, for which the return of Christ would be an impediment to wielding its power over a flock it deems incapable of exercising free will responsibly, and which. therefore, must be made to depend on the Church for bread, miracles and authority.

Indeed, Holy Mother Church would seem to have a lot to answer for, having adapted its theology closer to paganism than it would care to admit so as to extend its reach by attracting converts, and exercised its power in ways antithetical to the message of the Prince of Peace. Viewed from a purely anthropological perspective, the Church proclaims monotheism, and yet enticed pagan worshipers with three gods (a paternal old man, a young man as a sacrificial lamb, and a bird as embodiment of spirit) and a plethora of demigods in the form of a maternal icon and saints of every race and gender for every occasion to intercede with the higher-order gods through superogation, just as more primitive religions have done since time immemorial. The Church appropriated numerous pagan festivals, notably including the spring/fertility festival, Easter, and the winter solstice, Christmas, and others at various times of the year. It gained legitimacy for its holy writ by grafting it to an old and venerable holy text and tradition. Thanks to St. Paul, it welcomed into the fold believers outside the tribe, not connected by blood, thereby universalizing its appeal. Then twice at Nicea in the 4th century, it concocted "coherent absurdities," making the religion palatable to ignorant, superstitious peasants, and for centuries thereafter kept them in that subordinate state by reserving for the clergy all knowledge, mystical, ecclesiastical and secular, in a dead language. The Church routinely trampled the fundamental principles articulated by the Prince of Peace with bloody crusades, barbaric inquisitions, numerous wars in the name of God (most viciously against fellow Christians), and the plunder and extermination of indigenous people in the name of their salvation. Contrary to Jesus' message of forgiveness and forbearance, the modern Church has damned homosexuals and lesbians at a time when sexual orientation is recognized as a biological imperative rather than a choice, insisted on clerical celibacy in an unnatural denial of human sexuality (leading to abuse of minors and covert promiscuity), forbidden birth control despite crushing overpopulation, and discriminated against women at a time when the valuable resources of women have become widely acknowledged and incorporated into the fabric of society. (See previous post.) Of these anomalies, only the Inquisition is referenced by "The Grand Inquisitor," provoking audiences to think deeply about the role of the Church in society, then and now. Such examination becomes particularly timely as the College of Cardinals meets to elect the next Pope who will chart the Church's future course.

Much as I treasure the intimate experience of Central Works' plays, performed in the round (three-sides of a rectangle, actually) only two rows deep at Julia Morgan's Moorish Gothic Berkeley City Club (another gem), I can only wish its plays ("The Grand Inquisitor" particularly, given its timeliness), achieved broader exposure, perhaps in larger venues and through dissemination of videotaped performances via the Internet. Such undertakings require money, which as Graves and Zvaifler ruefully admit, is in perennial short supply.

To further your own cultural and intellectual enrichment, I urge those of you living in the San Francisco Bay Area become Central Works subscribers, and those unable to make it to Berkeley, to make a tax-deductible donation to Central Works in hopes that its gems may yet become part of your personal treasure trove.