Judas opens with Pilate, governor of the Roman province of Judea, observing the Holy Land with binoculars from a tall, heavily-guarded tower.  The suit-wearing, imperious-looking Pilate, with assistance from his  loyal, heel-clicking assistant Klautus (Josh F.S. Moser),  has the task of maintaining Rome’s authority over the Judeans while keeping the peace. Pilate is depicted as something of an atheist (“I wish there was a God I believed in”, he says at one point.), but in actuality, political power is his real deity– with the late Julius Caesar being the closest human incarnation.  While blatantly condescending about the monotheistic faith of the Jews, this prefect possesses a strange admiration (bordering on fascination) for their religious dedication. Pilate allows the citizens to maintain their religion, albeit as something of a tranquilizer.  With the sounds of an angry crowd rising up the tower, King Herod (Jim Sterling) frantically visits Pilate after ordering the death of a holy man, which incites the anger of a Jewish mob.  Shortly afterward, Herod himself gets killed– specifically, torn to pieces.  Pilate chooses the handsome Jewish student Judas to be his new apprentice of sorts, hinting at a possible position of power for the intelligent but conflicted young man.

Meanwhile, in a more tranquil rural setting, we meet Mary (Elise Stone), Joseph (Craig Anthony Bannister), and their son Jesus (Jeffrey Marc Alkins)– all dressed in peasant clothes.  Jesus, now an intelligent and charismatic young man, has realized that he has a larger calling requiring him to look beyond his family’s simple life.  However, he is conflicted about his mission as a prophet.   Mary knows that her son is, shall we say, “special”– although the humble Joseph is not quite so sure.  Jesus leaves for Jerusalem, and it’s only a matter of time before he develops a fiercely loyal following as a new prophet with his mantras: “All men are brothers”. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  “Love one another, as I have loved you.”  One of Jesus’ most enthusiastic new devotees, Peter (Ariel Estrada), emerges as one of his most dedicated followers.  Peter meets Judas in the streets and serendipitously recognizes him as a fellow apostle, even though Judas doesn’t quite realize it yet (Judas calls Peter a “superstitious rabble”.).  Judas is drawn to Jesus’ teachings, but is still loyal to his mentor Pilate and the seduction of the promise of power.   He goes into a spiritual crisis. In yet another example about the timeless message of the play, Judas’ speech about having to “pick sides”  is hard to distinguish from modern day debates about politics, religion, et cetera.  Judas can’t understand why he can’t just…well, believe.  The dichotomy between Peter and Judas becomes very obvious: Spiritual comfort versus distress.  Energy versus emotional paralysis.  Faith versus doubt.  Meanwhile, Jesus’ new “celebrity” of sorts is not lost upon Pilate, who is still watching everything from his tower.  Concerned about possible political and social unrest in Judea, Pilate orders Klautus to spy on Jesus.

Act 1 of Judas has one potent scene after another, with little time for a “cool down” period for the theater attendees.  All the interactions between the characters– Pilate and Judas, Mary and Joseph, Mary and Jesus, Peter and Judas– are delivered with severe force. By the intermission time, the audience was actually grateful for some breathing space.  But, as anyone who knows the story will predict, it only gets far, far more intense from there.  Act 2 sees Jesus as a somewhat polarizing figure.   Many (including his fiery mother Mary) see Jesus as the next King of the Jews, who will lift the Chosen People from centuries of repression and slavery– most recently by the Romans.  Jesus himself, however, has a much larger mission, envisioning a wider Kingdom of God and the theory that spiritual freedom can be found from within.  Jesus promises his followers that “All will be revealed”.  Like Jesus, the play keeps its promise– and like the original story, the conclusion promises a seemingly infinite amount of interpretation.