Reflections on Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar This Easter Weekend

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

As Easter weekend rolls around, I’ve been thinking about two musicals that have shaped how we view faith, storytelling, and community. Godspell and Jesus Christ Superstar couldn’t be more different in tone or style, but both take on the story of Jesus with something rare: gentleness. No fire and brimstone. No guilt trips. Just questions. Humanity. Music.

And maybe that’s why they still matter.

Godspell is joy. Pure, infectious, ensemble-driven joy. I directed a production of it years ago, and I still remember the rehearsal room as a kind of sacred space. It’s not a show about pageantry—it’s about connection. About strangers building something together and learning, little by little, what love really looks like. Based on the Gospel of Matthew, Godspell gives us parables, humor, and music that sticks with you for decades. “Day by Day” isn’t just a catchy tune—it’s a quiet prayer wrapped in a folk-pop melody.

When the crucifixion finally arrives, it doesn’t hit like a thunderclap. It lands with simplicity and sorrow. There’s no spectacle. Just the realization that this person—this teacher, this friend—offered something beautiful to the world, and the world didn’t know what to do with it. The message isn’t “You must believe this.” It’s more like, “What if this kind of love was real? And what would we do with it now?”

Then you’ve got Jesus Christ Superstar, which goes the opposite direction in terms of energy but still gets to something deeply spiritual. It’s rock and roll. It’s rebellion. It’s emotion turned up to eleven. But it’s also intimate and painfully honest. I performed in a concert version years ago, and standing onstage during “Gethsemane” cracked something open in me. There’s a line where Jesus asks, “Why should I die?”—and it doesn’t feel rhetorical. It feels like a plea.

What’s remarkable about both shows is how they manage to center Christianity without turning into sermons. In a time when religion—especially Christianity—is often associated with culture wars, exclusion, and judgment, these musicals cut through the noise. They remind us that the story of Jesus, at its heart, is one of love, sacrifice, and forgiveness. They speak to believers, skeptics, the curious, and the disillusioned alike. They don’t try to convert you. They just ask you to sit with the story.

That’s the magic of theatre, really. It gives us room to reflect without demanding a conclusion. It offers a shared experience and lets us walk away with our own interpretations. Godspell and Superstar may have been born in the 1970s, but their emotional core feels timeless. They ask us to consider how we treat each other, what we value, and whether we’re willing to believe in something bigger than ourselves—even if just for the length of a song.

So this Easter weekend, whether you’re attending a service, spending time with family, watching Superstar on YouTube, or just finding a moment of quiet, I’d invite you to revisit these shows. Not for theology. Not for nostalgia. But for what they offer at their best: a reminder that compassion, doubt, and community can coexist—and that the story of Jesus, whether you believe in it literally or not, is still one worth telling. And still one worth hearing.