The young, straightforward Manoliòs is plagued by dreams: "What does it mean to me to play Christ?" He had been assigned the role of Jesus for the Passion Play by the village priest.

Manoliòs and his friends, who are to appear as disciples, notice that they are seething.

They see their village world with more critical eyes, perceive the rituals with which Priest Grigoris has cemented peace and hierarchy in the village.

Above all, however, they look at themselves more closely: where have I lied, where have I cheated someone, where have I once again patted myself on the back?

The reality test comes as a "wave of refugees" descends on the village, half-starved displaced people who keep themselves alive by singing psalms but in their helplessness threaten the tranquility and hierarchy of the village.

When the village elders refuse to give anything to the refugees, Manoliòs grows into the role of his life.

He publicly confesses his transgressions, practices practical charity, until he is killed at the priest's behest by the one who has the role of Judas.

The Czech composer Bohuslav Martinů has adapted the novel “Christ Crucified Again” by the successful Greek author Nikos Kazantzakis (“Alexis Sorbas”) into an opera libretto – in English – with a charming network of choruses, spoken passages, arioso eruptions and purely orchestral interludes.

Martinů's orchestration skills are famous.

By using the harp or the accordion at unexpected moments, he counteracts the danger of sweetness, especially with a religious subject.

Subtly aggressive marching rhythms in the percussion are reminiscent of Shostakovich's musical language.

The refugee trek becomes a choral community whose voices fill the room with unison lines and echoes of Gregorian chant.

The spiritual strength of the poor, however, stumbles before the hard-heartedness of the priest;

they only whisper "Have mercy!"

Monophonic song without words accompanies the Judas kiss, which thus appears as an emblem congealed in time.

In the performance at the Osnabrück Theater, which has attracted national attention several times for its daring and substantial musical theatre, there is a focus on the design of the large choral part.

The musical directors of the performance, Andreas Hotz (orchestra), Sierd Quarré and Anna Mikulova (choirs), managed an impressive evening.

It is a big scene when psalms are sung in the distance, the backlight becomes ever stronger and finally a dark wooden boat, filled with hopeful shipwrecked people, practically breaks into the middle of the stage from behind.

In the bow stands the spiritual leader Fotis, a Viking figure.

Compared to the white-clad villagers, he looks like a Nordic early Christian in a black woolen cloak.

In the confrontation of the two priests, two singer personalities also face each other:

Although the director Philipp Kochheim did not always resist the temptation to use artistic kitsch - Manoliòs touches the forehead of the sinner Katerina alias Maria Magdalena with the sign of the cross, she puts her hair on his feet - the actresses of Katerina and the actor of Manoliòs show humanly large figures.

It is one of the hardest things to look fearlessly and forgivingly at a face contorted with hate, but Manoliòs manages to do just that before Judas embraces him.

Australian tenor James Edgar Knight's warm-toned voice suits his "chivalrous" appearance.

Equally effortless is the vocal presence of Susann Vent-Wunderlich's Katerina.

The sinner is the first to understand Manoliòs' mission and, with inner radiance, renounces her former life.

A goosebump moment when she becomes aware of her liberation in the "love scene" with Manoliòs: "I'm no longer ashamed." Other villagers are also parting with Mammon, their giant screens and new tablets to help the refugees.

Therein, as the director interprets the “Greek Passion”, lies the really liberating aspect of charity, which only works without self-righteousness.