How wise is the Nathan of "Nathan the Wise"?

		'Nathan the Wise' Where: Carnegie Mellon School of Drama, Philip Chosky Theatre, CMU Campus, Oakland. When: Thurs. 7:30 p.m.; Fri. 8 p.m.; Sat. 2 and 8 p.m. Tickets: $11-$25; 412-268-2407.

This wise: In response to Sultan Saladin's demand to know whether Judaism, Christianity or Islam is the one true religion, he tells a parable of three rings that seems to disarm religious warfare, turning it into a contest in generosity and tolerance. And he solves the ages-old struggle among these three religions right in the epicenter of their struggle, Jerusalem -- all by the end of Act 1.

Nathan then has the whole of Act 2 to settle a parallel debate about faith and identity right in his own family. For what is a grand philosophic reconciliation if individuals remain at odds? What is theory compared to real people?

Unfortunately, Nathan is just a fictional character created by Prussian playwright Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-81), and he performs his feat of reconciliation in a play written in 1779 and set in 1192, at the time of the Third Crusade. So it will hardly surprise you that Nathan's reconciliation has not held. It's a parable still. Indeed, contemporary history suggests there are no longer just three rings claiming to be the one true way, but many such, even among competing factions of the same faith.

But we can hope. An audience emerges from CMU's "Nathan the Wise" inspired with hope for religious peace, especially since CMU's production (through Saturday) of this famous, seldom-seen theatrical expression of Enlightenment spirit is staged with such panache -- size, clarity, color and wisdom. Director Mladen Kiselov has created a compelling piece, rich in humor and a weighty earnestness and maturity unusual in a student company.

The story is prefigured in Hallie Stern's set, where an array of minarets and domes, with scripts in Arabic, Hebrew and Latin, richly and variously lit by Caitlin Janapol, soar above three different thrones. The two most opulent are those of Muslim Saladin (Andrew Kober) and the Christian Patriarch (Ryan Bechard), each in his own way a ruler. But the humbler Jewish throne is in the middle, as Jews so often have been.

That's the house of Nathan (Raffi Barsoumian), a wealthy merchant with a cosmopolitan view and finely tuned mind. With him live Rachel (Michelle Mulitz), who we learn is his adopted daughter, and Daya (Eryn Joslyn), her kvetching, ostentatiously Christian nanny.

At his monastery, the wizened Patriarch is accompanied by a lay brother, Bonafides (Wilson Scott). And munificent, humorous Saladin shares his Sultan's palace with Sittah (Kersti Bryan), his sister, and Al-Hafi (Greg Coughlin), a dervish whom he has made his household treasurer.

In 1192, the Muslims rule Jerusalem, with certain guarantees for Christians and some toleration for Jews. Initially, the only connection among these three separate worlds is that Al-Hafi is Nathan's friend. And then a handsome young Templar (David Winters), miraculously freed from a beheading by Saladin, miraculously saves Rachel from a fire, and she is smitten.

But who is she, really? What about Saladin's need for gold? How will the conniving end? What of the Templar's anger? Will the Jew end up scapegoat to both Christian and Muslim, once again?

The adaptation/translation is by Edward Kemp, who has trimmed an even longer epic down to what seems merely Shakespearean scope, about 2²/₃ hours. The evening begins with a quick review of three millennia of Jerusalem history, during which this crossroads has been pillaged, sacked, massacred and destroyed by every empire known to man, often in the interest of "the one true faith," whichever that may be.

The most evil presence on stage is the ancient Patriarch, who wants to murder both Saladin and Nathan, but his venom is balanced by the more admirable Christian instincts of Brother Bonafides. Saladin is a capacious man, both childish and wise. Careful Nathan is indeed the wisest of the three.

The Patriarch, who makes the sign of the cross seem a curse, is evil because he has the worst case of that conviction of being the one true faith that creates jihad or Crusades. "Religion," says the bitter Templar, "is about party politics."

Barsoumian is impressive as Nathan, with stalwart bearing and control. Kober brings out Saladin's mercurial humor, and the three women contribute spirit and variety. All nine actors have beautifully clear speech.

"Nathan the Wise" is philosophic drama on a grand scale, like a bigger-than-life ideological chess match (a simile given heft by Brandon R. McWilliams' gorgeous costumes). It's a cross between "Ivanhoe," "The Arabian Nights" and a Shakespearean romance, but being set in Jerusalem, it seems as contemporary as tomorrow's headlines. I wish its happy ending could be written on the world at large.