Theatre in Review: Martin Luther on Trial (Fellowship for Performing Arts at Pearl Theatre Company)There are two honestly gripping scenes in Martin Luther on Trial, neither of which has anything to do with the contrived theological courtroom drama dreamed up by the authors, Chris Cragin-Day and Max McLean. In the first, Luther, whose attempts at reforming Christianity led, as one character notes, to "fracturing it into a thousand pieces," meets with Josel of Rosheim, a prominent Jew, in an attempt at making common cause with Germany's Jewish community. It is not a meeting of the minds: Josel admits to having read Luther's translation of certain Old Testament books. Luther, intrigued, asks, "What did you think? I consulted with Rabbi Aaronheim." "He's Christian," notes Josel. "He's a Jew who believes in Christ," insists Luther. "We call those people Christians," replies Josel, gently. What follows is an intriguing battle of theological wits that clarifies each man's world view while wittily subjecting both to rigorous examination. It is destined to end in a draw, however; what Luther really has in mind is conversion, and he is stung to discover that his efforts are received with the coldest of shoulders. His frustration over this failure would find darker expression later on, in some of the astonishingly ugly anti-Semitic tracts that stained the latter portion of his life. (It is suggested that the vileness of his language can be explained in part by painful chronic illness, but surely the crime lies in the committing of the act.) In a later scene, we see how Luther is compromised by politics when he refuses to speak out against Frederick III, Elector of Saxony, who has instituted anti-Semitic laws. Frederick also protects Luther from a papacy outraged by his scorching criticisms, and so he is effectively gagged. In moments like these, Martin Luther on Trial makes mordant points about the appalling horse-trading that even the most profound believers may be forced to undertake if they intend to live in this fallen world. Still, the play is called Martin Luther on Trial, and most of the running time is taken up with the play's hokey premise -- that the Devil, feeling that he is the victim of divine injustice, obtains God's approval for a hearing to decide if Luther has committed the unforgivable sin of rebelling against the Holy Spirit. The Devil takes on the role of prosecuting attorney, with Katie Von Bora, Luther's wife, acting for the defense, and St. Peter is both judge and jury; Luther himself is mostly seen in flashbacks. Theologically speaking, this setup is nonsensical; every Christian sect agrees that salvation cannot be relitigated. Even Katie says, "I would have thought a sin as grievous as that would have come out in my husband's first trial. The one where he stood before God after death." She adds, "Are you suggesting that God is harboring Luther? The way one harbors a criminal?" Good questions, but the authors will have their courtroom setting. If this setup doesn't sound totally forced, consider the list of witnesses, which includes Hitler, Martin Luther King, Jr., Sigmund Freud, and Pope Francis I, with cameo appearances by Christopher Hitchens, C. S. Lewis, Friedrich Nietzsche, The Brothers Grimm, and Soren Kierkegaard. It's Night of a 100 World-Historical Figures, a parade of famous names who are used as mouthpieces for various points of view. Much of the time they are the butts of the authors' obvious jokes. Hitler agrees to remove his swastika -- as soon as someone says "please." His argument: "Luther's 95 Theses freed the German conscience from the clutches of Rome, creating space for a new moral system, one that would be distinctly German" -- and we all know how that turned out. Peter asks Freud if he knows why he has been summoned. "You want a session?" the good doctor asks. Then he opines that Luther, who had daddy issues, "created a new heavenly father for himself, one that met his needs in a way that his real father never could." The combination of expert-witness testimony with brief scenes from the defendant's life proves to be less than compelling; it's not so much a play as a commentary on one. All of the drama on offer is contained in the first act; the second is mostly filler, featuring a lightning round of witnesses, followed by the appearance of Pope Francis, who makes the point that Luther was responding to real abuses in the Church. "Martin Luther is the Roman Catholic Church's ultimate enemy," insists the Devil. "That would be you, actually," replies the Pope, wittily. It's an amusing idea to have Luther defended by the living representative of the office he despised, but the conclusions he offers, which boil down to we are all sinners and God's ways are mysterious, are pretty banal stuff, not really worth it after two acts of courtroom dramatics. Under Michael Parva's fast-paced direction, an uneven cast works hard at putting some flesh on these paper figures. Paul Schoeffler's Devil is as juicy and delicious as any apple drawn from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; he has a worthy antagonist in Kersti Bryan's Katie, who comes across as deeply involved in the clash of ideas at the trial's heart. Fletcher McTaggart suggests Luther's intense, even neurotic, devotion to his work, but the script gives him few opportunities to take the character beyond two dimensions. John Michalski's Peter is a fussy old codger, an idea that isn't as amusing as the playwrights seem to think. Cast in multiple roles, Jamil A. C. Mangan succeeds best as King, who has some interesting things to say about Luther's treatment of the Jews, and Mark Boyett does fairly well as Pope Francis, who makes his points with enormous tact. Kelly James Tighe's multilevel set, with Gothic windows upstage and a tower of books written about Luther placed downstage left, is a reasonably effective representation of what the program calls "a crossroad between Heaven and Hell." Geoffrey D. Fishburn's lighting efficiently creates different looks for the trial scenes and the scenes from Luther's life. Nicole Wee's costumes are ably drawn from different eras. Quentin Chiappetta's sound design includes an appealing indie-folk cover of "A Mighty Fortress is Our God" as well as some solid supernatural effects. In the end, however, despite all the arguments, Martin Luther on Trial ends up pretty much where one expects. Surely the fine people at Fellowship for Performing Arts, which is dedicated to the production of "theatre from a Christian worldview," are unlikely to let the Devil win. And, as Luther himself commented on his deathbed, "We are all beggars." This is undoubtedly true, but not a very satisfying conclusion to a play that attempts to probe the darker corners of a profound and consequential religious leader's soul. Sadly, and not for the first time, sound theology makes for weak drama. -- David Barbour ![](/std_images/blank.gif)
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