E-Mail This Article to a Friend RANT The fashion of the Christ BY CHRIS WRIGHT

This weekend, Jesus Christ Superstar is coming to town. Which would seem to be great news. Like many people, I have long felt an almost religious devotion to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s musical masterpiece. And, like many people, I can sing the entire production from the opening credits to the point where our hero gets nailed to the cross — "Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, who are you, what have you sacrificed?" All the same, I’m not happy.

The problem is, I can’t seem to get away from Jesus lately. First there was Mel Gibson’s ecclesiastical slasher flick The Passion of the Christ, which basically depicts the Son of God as a large raw brisket — not an easy work to sing along to. In fact, I was traumatized by the film. I gasped. I wept. Watching Christ being kicked, pricked, punched, gashed, stabbed, and peeled by his tormentors, I could barely bring myself to eat my Skittles — especially the red ones. It all seemed so unfair.

But it doesn’t stop with The Passion. Since I saw the film, Christ is everywhere I look. For one thing, friends keep sending me e-mails about funny Jesus products. First there was the spate of T-shirts, bearing such irony-infused legends as CHRIST KILLER and JESUS WAS A KIKE. Then came the much-reviled "Jesus Dress-Up" magnetic kit, which allows you to dress the crucified figure of Christ in various items of clothing, including a tutu, a devil outfit, pink bunny slippers, and a beanie cap. "Some people," as one of the many news stories on the product informed us, "are outraged over a sacred symbol that’s being sold for laughs." It gets worse.

A Web site called CheesyJesus.com is currently flogging, among other things, Jesus ashtrays and Jesus action figures. Then there’s CatholicShopper.com, which carries a line of so-called Jesus Inspirational Sports Statues: "A wonderful way to reinforce Jesus ‘as friend’ in everyday activities." For the low price of $19.95, you can own a four-inch resin Jesus joining a variety of kids — some of them "other than Caucasian" — in games of baseball, basketball, football, hockey, and soccer. There is also a skiing Jesus, a jogging Jesus, a golfing Jesus, and a ballet-dancing Jesus.

As if all this weren’t enough, I’ve recently started dating a Catholic. The other night, over dinner, I initiated an ill-fated conversation about The Passion of the Christ. "All the way up till the end," I told her, "I thought there’d be a daring last-minute escape." There was an awkward silence. "But, you know, he dies." And then: "Poor Jesus." I must have said that a dozen times. "Poor Jesus." My sympathy went unappreciated. I suppose it didn’t help when I told her I’d cried more during Babe.

This is what’s so great about Jesus Christ Superstar — you feel sorry for the messiah, but in an uplifting way. Indeed, one of the show’s producers has gone on record calling it a "family-friendly way to enjoy the story of Jesus during the Easter holiday." Which means, presumably, no bloody, frothy gurgling at the moment of death. Maybe I should bring my date to see it with me. I’ll log onto CheesyJesus and buy her a bobble-head doll. I think she’ll like that.

Jesus Christ Superstar runs at Babson College’s Sorenson Center for the Arts, April 8 through April 10. Call (781) 586-8817.