(RNS) Since 1634, the Bavarian village of Oberammergau has staged an elaborate Passion play that has become of the largest and longest-running stage depictions of the last week of Jesus’ life.

The show now runs once every 10 years. During this year’s run of 102 performances between May 15 and Oct. 3, an estimated half-million spectators will descend on the tiny German hamlet to see the show; more than half are expected to come from North America.

Many viewers will believe that what they’re seeing is the “Gospel truth.” But it’s not that simple.

Passion plays remain a flashpoint between Christians and Jews because early Christianity transferred the blame for Jesus’ death from Pontius Pilate — the ruthless Roman governor of occupied Judea — to “the Jews,” past, present and future.

And Passion plays, for better or worse, were the vehicle for telling the story for large audiences.

The Gospel of John mentions “the Jews” 71 times, almost always in a pejorative way. Too many Christians still believe the odious “Christ killer” canard that God eternally punished all Jews for their alleged crime.

The Catholic Church did not officially repudiate that abhorrent charge until 1965. In 1988, U.S. Catholic bishops warned that, “any presentations that explicitly or implicitly seek to shift responsibility from human sin onto this or that historical group, such as the Jews, can only be read to obscure a core Gospel truth.”

Passion plays, including Oberammergau, have long portrayed “the Jews” as villains responsible for Jesus’ death, even though crucifixion was a Roman form of capital punishment that was used to execute thousands of Jews.

In too many plays, “the Jews” are the evil force who demand Jesus’ death. In reality, they were an occupied people chafing under Roman rule without judicial or political power to execute anyone. Nevertheless, Passion plays have turned history on its head and presented a vengeful and blood-thirsty Jewish crowd.

Since 1970, I have worked with Oberammergau leaders in efforts to rid their production of its hostile stereotypes and caricatures of Jews and Judaism. I attended the 1984 production marking the play’s 350th anniversary; the play’s harsh anti-Semitic elements were made worse knowing that Adolf Hitler witnessed a similar performance 50 years earlier.

Not surprisingly, the Nazi leader approved of what he saw: “It is vital that the Passion play be continued at Oberammergau; for never has the menace of Jewry been so convincingly portrayed as in this presentation.”

Because the play is a revered local tradition, change is difficult. But beginning in 1990, director Christian Stuckl and dramatist Otto Huber made positive changes despite opposition from some villagers.

“We have only a Jewish story,” Stuckl says. “I think Jesus knows nothing about the Catholic Church … we get trouble because many people think in the audience Jesus was the first Christian and Jewish people kill the first Christian, but we tell a different story.”

The revised text emphasizes the Jewishness of Jesus; he is referred as “rabbi” more than 40 times in this year’s script. During his brief 33-year life, all of Jesus’ followers were Jews: his mother and father, his apostles, his extended family and the first 15 bishops of the Christian church.

Last October, representatives of the American Jewish Committee and the Anti-Defamation League met with Stuckl, Huber, and local Catholic and Lutheran leaders to discuss proposed changes in this year’s play. More recently, I joined scholars from the Council of Centers on Jewish-Christian Relations in analyzing the 2010 script.

Despite some positive changes, serious flaws remain — especially in critical interplay between Pilate and Caiaphas, the Jewish high priest, over Jesus’ fate. Caiaphas was, in real life, an obsequious Roman appointee who owed his position to Pilate. Unfortunately, in Oberammergau, Caiaphas is still portrayed as manipulating and badgering the weak Roman overlord into killing Jesus.

As long as scenes like that remain in Oberammergau or any other Passion play, they will be toxic images audiences will long remember. And they’re not just images — they’re images that have had, and will have, dire consequences for the Jewish people.

(Rabbi Rudin, the American Jewish Committee’s senior interreligious adviser, is the author of “The Baptizing of America: The Religious Right’s Plans for the Rest of Us.”)