Monologue: Doubting Thomas

Rich Lindeman has written a monologue, “I Am Thomas.” It is inspired by John 20:19-35, and was intended as a replacement for the sermon on the Sunday after Easter.

Here’s the opening paragraph of the monologue. 

Monologue: Doubting Thomas

“I am Thomas. By ancient traditions some of you may know me as being the twin brother of St. Matthew. And by the testimony of Holy Scripture some of you may know me as being one of the twelve apostles, a disciple of Jesus the Christ. And because of a remarkable event in my life, I suspect that there are others

of you here who also know me by another name: "Doubting Thomas"….

~ written by Rich Lindeman. For the full script, visit http://www.mail-archive.com/friends-of-lcmc@googlegroups.com/msg01179.html

Monologue: Five Loaves and Two Fish

Here’s a monologue inspired by the story of the boy whose five loaves and two fish became food for thousands.  It was written by Mark Diller Harder.

Monologue

(inspired by Matthew 14:15-21, Mark 6:35-44,

Luke 9:12-17, John 6:1-15)

It was just an ordinary day – hot and hazy. I had got up really early, before the sun. To get to the boat. To get fishing. I love fishing. The quiet stillness of the Sea of Galilee. The time to just be on my own, to be myself - no distractions, no expectations, no one to bug you or put you down… and usually, no fish either. Out here on the water, it doesn’t matter if I don’t have enough – if I don’t catch any fish. But today was different, I had a few nibbles to start with, and then just as the sun was rising, I caught one, and then soon after a second. These were going to be great in my lunch.

I didn’t want to leave the sea. To go back home, to the chaos just before Passover as everyone is getting ready. I know, they keep saying how important that history is to remember – ‘for our identity’ they say – the Passover in Egypt when we marked the doorposts, the escape across the Red Sea with the unleavened bread, and the way God provided in the wilderness, sending manna from heaven every morning. There’s so much of the story about bread I usually get hungry listening. I knew that today was the last day for me to get my hands on some regular warm fresh bread before the flatbread of Passover – so I grabbed 5 small loaves to put with my fish. This was going to be a good lunch.

It was then that I saw the crowd, all the people - there must have been thousands! I’d seen lots of people once in the city, but here they were – in the middle of no-where where I like to hide out and pass away the time. I finally noticed the centre of attention – a man surrounded by people edging him toward the mountain. Yet he was totally calm, and talking and praying and touching what looked like sick people. I got closer. The man smirked a bit and asked in a loud voice about how they were going to buy bread for all these people to eat. A guy near him looked a little panicky – there were a lot of people. How was he going to get enough money? You can’t buy bread around here anyways. A couple of other guys took notice of my little lunch and soon they were parading my fresh fish and bread around. I was proud of my fish. The man made everyone sit down in the grass. And he prayed – said grace. It reminded me of all those Passover prayers the adults do. And do you know what, he started passing out my bread and my fish down one row and then another and pretty soon everyone was eating and laughing and sharing and having a grand old time. I kind of lost track of time and ate some food myself and then what do you know, they were gathering up leftovers – 12 baskets full. I’d never seen anything like it. I don’t know what all happened that day, and who that man was, but for once in my life, it was me who had enough.

~ written by Mark Diller Harder, St. Jacobs Mennonite Church, January 2010. Posted in the From Our Churches archive on the Mennonite Church Canada Resource Centre website.  http://resources.mennonitechurch.ca/FileDownload/12317/Boy_with_5_loaves_and_2_fish.pdf

Easter Monologue: Mary on Easter Morning

Here’s a monologue for Easter Sunday.  It was written by Carol Penner, and posted on Leading in Worship.

Mary on Easter Morning:

A Monologue

(inspired by John 20: 1-18)

We were weighed down, walking to the tomb.
We knew the way, for we had walked it two days before.
We had followed Joseph of Arimathea and his servant,
down the hill from Golgatha,
their arms straining with the dead weight of Jesus’ body.
We saw where they laid him, how they wrapped him in linen.
We saw their shoulders pushing that stone in place,
the sound of it grinding shut.
And though our eyes streamed tears
we marked the place,
for we knew we would come back.

And on the first day of the week,
we came, arms full of aromatic oil and spices;
cinnamon, cassia, myrrh.
All our resources pooled in a fragrant offering,
one last service for Jesus.
We walked the dark path,
the sky just beginning to lighten.

What we saw in the semi-darkness
was not the closed tomb we had expected,
but a gaping hole!
Alarmed, we looked inside,
seeing that Jesus’ body was gone.
Someone had been there before us.
How could this be?
Grave robbers?
Some final act of blasphemy against our Saviour?
Had Pilate changed his mind,
and was Jesus’ corpse now hanging somewhere for all to see?
I dropped all I was carrying and ran to find the disciples.
Peter and John came racing back,
entering the tomb:
Jesus was not there.
I stood with them, our hands on the giant stone,
confusion written on our faces.
They left, but I remained, gathering up all those spices,
my tears dropping on the ground,
would this suffering never end?

I turned and looked again in the tomb,
but this time, there was not darkness, but light!
Two angels sitting where Jesus’ body should be;
and they asked me why I was weeping!
Why was I weeping?
And then another man, the gardener,
suddenly there behind me,
also asking about my tears.
All I wanted was Jesus’ body,
so I could do what I came here for,
mourn properly, anoint him with these spices in my arms.
“Where is Jesus, tell me if you know!” I cried.
And then he said my name, and I suddenly recognized him.
Jesus!  Not dead, not cold, not lifeless, not gone forever!
Jesus, alive, before me, talking, looking in my eyes!
My heart about stopped as I reached out to hold him,
to see if he was real, touchable, Jesus in the flesh.
He talked of My God and Your God,
and suddenly it was real to me.
It was not God far away, not God not listening,
but God present, God doing impossible things,
God making morning miracles out of death’s darkness.
Jesus asked me to go and tell the others.
I threw the spices on the ground,
(no need of them now!)  and I started running,
my feet moving faster than they’ve ever moved.
beautiful with good news,
I have seen the Lord!
I have seen the Lord!

~ written by Carol Penner, and posted on Leading in Worship. http://carolpenner.typepad.com/

Easter Monologue: Mary Magdalene

Here’s a monologue from the perspective of Mary Magdalene.  It was written by Mary Mae Swartzentruber.

Monologue

(based on the events in John 20:11-18)

I have seen the Lord!

You don’t seem surprised. You are thinking, Mary Magdalene, of course you’ve seen the Lord. You walked with him daily after he healed you.

That’s not what I mean. I saw him risen – alive!

You might not know how I felt: I was there, at the foot of the cross, when Jesus gave Mary and John to each other. Who did I have? No one!

I was there when he said, “I’m thirsty,” and they gave him a swab of vinegar. What could I do? Nothing!

I was there when he said, “It is finished.” Who would have thought it would come to that? A dead man on a cross—God forsaken! Was this the glory he had intended? Was this God’s way of acting?  God-forsaken – alone - lonely. As a daughter of Jerusalem, the one thing I had learned was to mourn.

I loved him. I had followed him. I would stay with him! – when the Sabbath was over, of course.  I thought the worst had happened, until I got to the tomb that morning. The stone had been moved – they couldn’t even leave a body in peace! Surely the Master had deserved a proper burial. Later – I wondered why I hadn’t walked right in! Instead I ran to tell the others – what they had done to our teacher and friend’s body Peter and the beloved ones left – running, but I couldn’t stay still long enough for them to return. I set out again.

Why? You ask.

To cry, of course, near to his last resting place – or to find out where he was taken!

Now I had the courage to look in and two messengers guided us. Would you ask a visitor at a grave site why she is crying?

I was so lonely – without Jesus. He meant everything to me!

Then the gardener came and asked the same thing, adding “Whom are you looking for?”

Looking for? “Just a body – to give it a proper burial now that it’s been desecrated.”

Then a wonderful thing happened. “Mary!” The gardener knew my name. No one knew me that well and loved me so much as Jesus! “Mary….”

He had told us once that he calls the sheep by his own name and they know his voice.

Teacher and Master!

I wanted to cling to him forever – not ever to enter such despair again. But I couldn’t.

His words were beautiful – “Go to my sisters and brothers and tell them that I am on the way.

     To my Father and your Father

     To my God and your God.”

     Equality, love, unity. He was one with us!

Not only was I freed from that deep despair, but then I knew this was not only a teacher of Israel, the Lord –God has acted in this Jesus. I have seen the Lord!

~ from We Have Seen the Lord: Four Easter Monologues (John 20), written by Mary Mae Swartzentruber, Stirling Avenue Mennonite Church, 1989. Posted in the From Our Churches archive on the Mennonite Church Canada Resource Centre website.  http://resources.mennonitechurch.ca/FileDownload/15167/4_Easter_Monologues.pdf

Reflection: Luke 23: 39-43

Here’s a reflection on Luke 23: 39-43.  It was written by Bill Loader.  He writes, “Sorry about the Australian perspective for readers from elsewhere—adapt!”

The Unrepentant Brigand

A Reflection on Luke 23:39-43

Every year it's the same. I get crucified, me and my mate over there and Jesus in the middle. And every year they look up at us from their congregations. My mate's the good guy because he repented. I'm the bad guy. And they look up at me as if I'm some kind of criminal, an immoral person.

I'm not a bad guy. I'm a freedom fighter for my people. Read the stories! That's what it says. That's what the Greek means. That's why I was crucified; because I wanted change. That's why we were all crucified. They even accused Jesus of wanting to be the king of the Jews. See the accusation stuck above his head? The authorities wanted to get rid of us because we want to get rid of them and their oppression. They call people like me terrorists, but all rich people in power call freedom fighters terrorists.

We all want the same thing: me and my mate and Jesus, too. We want change. My mate did a bit of a rethink at the last minute and now prefers Jesus' way of going about it - no violence. I don't. I follow Che Ghevara and Barabbas. It's got past the stage of negotiating; we now have to take up arms. That's my way.

And all those people look at us with their pious faces. Preoccupied with their private morality they look down their noses at me and think I was someone who broke their private morality rules. I wish they would see that I've probably got more in common with Jesus than they have, especially when they often don't seem to care about people being oppressed and downtrodden. Can't they see that religious people are often the biggest stumbling blocks to change - just look at Jesus' experience! Still he and I don't see eye to eye on how to get things changed and I'd never fit in with his lot.

He promised my mate he would join him in paradise. I'd like to go to Australia one day, too. Is that really where our vision is fulfilled?

I can't stick around talking because I'm going to die soon. Pity me, but please don't moralise about me. I tried. See ya' next year. I doubt if anything will be different.

~ written by Bill Loader, and posted on William Loader’s Home Page. http://wwwstaff.murdoch.edu.au/~loader/brigand.html

Monologues: John 9: 1-41

Here’s a series of monologues inspired by John 9: 1-41, where Jesus heals the man born blind.  It is set for two voices:  the blind man’s father, and a Pharisee.  It was written by Mark Diller Harder.

Monologues: The Man Born Blind

(inspired by John 9: 1-41)

Father:

I can still hear the stinging remarks, repeated over the years, sometimes out loud, but more often whispered in the corners, just out of earshot – ‘it’s his fault he was born blind. He must have committed some horrible sin. Or it’s because of his father. What did he do?’ They would quote Leviticus: ‘they will waste away because of the sins of their fathers.’ It made me feel like dirt, like mud. We suffered in silence. Some days it felt like we were blind – we could not see past the moment. We had no idea what the future would hold, where this would all go. Last I heard he was begging on the streets just to feed himself.

Pharisee:

It’s all really quite clear. Crystal clear. A case of mistaken identity. No one really pays attention to what a blind beggar looks like, do they? Now there is this ‘story’, this rumour going around about a blind beggar receiving sight from Jesus. We have to stamp it out before rumour turns into legend, legend into history and history into fact. And then we will have even more problems with that renegade. I didn’t believe it for a moment. This was impossible. Healing blindness. On a Sabbath no less. Unless I would see it with my own eyes. We hauled up the man in front of us, and all he said was “He put mud on my eyes. Then I

washed, and now I see. He is a prophet.” I think he was trying to drag us all into the mud!

Father:

They didn’t believe my son. Didn’t hardly hear his words. I hardly believe it myself, but I know who my son is and that now he can see. They hauled us in and interrogated us. I was scared to say too much. What if they started accusing us of confessing Jesus as Messiah and we were kicked out of the synagogue? How do I know how this happened or who opened his eyes. Ask him yourself! He is of age…. They finally let us alone.

Pharisee:

They say that blasphemy is to insult or show contempt or lack of reverence for God or claim to be God-like, to see what God sees. This beggar was starting to cross that line! We told him to give God the glory, not Jesus, this sinner! But he kept insisting, kept playing dumb. Again he told us his muddy story. ‘I was blind, but now I see.’ And then he started pushing it. “Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples? Here is an astonishing thing! You do not know where he comes from, and yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to one who worships him and obeys him. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a

person born blind. If this man was not from God, he could do nothing!” We couldn’t stand it anymore. This sinner trying to teach us, the learned Pharisees. We drove him out.

Father:

I think I am finally getting it. I’m beginning to see. This Jesus person, prophet, God-man, Messiah? is bringing in a whole new way to see the world. He’s turning things upside down. We don’t have to judge people. Or push people to the edges of community. Our son is back in our family. The shame is gone. Do you know that our son met Jesus one more time? Jesus asked him if he believed in the Son of Man. Jesus said, ‘you have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” My son believed! My son worshipped. It’s all so crystal clear now.

Pharisee:

I’m not sure if I know anything anymore. It’s all gotten muddy. All the evidence points to the beggar being who he claims he is, and despite our objections, he truly can see. That I can see with my own eyes. But I can’t explain it! We followed Jesus, trying to see if he would say anything. He spoke only in riddles. “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.” Surely I am not blind, am I? And then Jesus said “If you were blind, you would not have sin. But now that you say, ‘We see,’ your sin remains.” I wonder more and more who it is that really has blinders on?

~ written by Mark Diller Harder, St. Jacobs Mennonite Church, January 2010. Posted in the From Our Churches archive on the Mennonite Church Canada Resource Centre website.  http://resources.mennonitechurch.ca/FileDownload/12316/Man_Born_Blind.pdf

Monologue: Another Woman at the Well

Here’s a monologue inspired by John 4: 1-42, where Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well.  It was written by Mark Diller Harder.

Another Woman at the Well

(inspired by John 4:1-42)

The picture was all wrong. This couldn’t be what I was seeing, could it? First there was ‘that

woman.’ It figures. She always marched to her own drummer and standards. Unconventional,

awkward, embarrassing. No one else would go to Jacob’s well at noon, in the middle of the

day. But I guess the rest of us women have not always been so friendly or hospitable to her.

The town well, lifeblood of the community, given by our great ancestor Jacob - his very flocks

and people drank water from there. Water! The source of all life. Without water we perish.

This well is as sacred to me as any shrine or temple, that’s for sure. There are rules to this

well too. Don’t draw water in mid-day. Don’t be caught there with men, certainly not talking

with them. And don’t even think of being there with an outsider, as a Samaritan, especially

not with a Jew – given our shared, yet antagonist histories – they think they are so much

better! This is our well! They can keep by-passing our whole territory and our well and our

much needed water for all I care.

But there I was, at noon, and watching her draw water. And this man, coming right up to her.

I moved closer to watch. He didn’t look like anyone we knew. He had the look of a Galilean. It

looked like he was asking her for a drink. Unbelievable! I moved closer, I caught some words.

Something about water and living water. She looked confused. He kept right on going.

“Everyone who drinks of this water will never be thirsty again. The water I give will become in

them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” And they just kept talking. It was as if they

were close relatives in the privacy of a family home. Family, husbands, worship, prophecy,

theology for goodness sake – nothing was out of bounds. It’s as if he knew her whole story –

but could talk about it without all the judgment – she mattered, she was important.

You should have seen the look on the faces of the other men when they returned. They must

be some sort of followers, disciples of this… prophet? The women left her jug, and ran back

to the city. It was as if she was a new woman. She had changed. For the first time ever,

people listened to her. She spoke the words ‘Messiah.’ Suddenly people were flocking there

because of her! She was so compelling! Whatever it is, I want some of that water!

~ written by Mark Diller Harder, St. Jacobs Mennonite Church, January 2010. Posted in the From Our Churches archive on the Mennonite Church Canada Resource Centre website.  http://resources.mennonitechurch.ca/FileDownload/12319/Another_Woman_at_the_Well.pdf

Monologue: John 3: 1-21

Here’s a monologue inspired by John 3 :1-21, where Nicodemus meets Jesus.  It was written by Mark Diller Harder.

Nicodemus Monologue

(inspired by John 3:1-21)

I came in the dead of night. I hid in the shadows. I had heard of Jesus, had watched him from

a distance. He was a dangerous man, a radical - I dare say, a heretic. At least that’s what we

called him in the Sanhedrin - the Jewish court of religious law and court of public opinion. We

opposed him at every front. He was getting too big for his britches! And yet, there was

something about him that kept nagging in the recesses of my mind. There were all these

signs. I wanted to get closer to find out more, but I was scared, for myself, for my reputation,

for my integrity as a scholar, a Pharisee. It was like there were hot burning coals, dangerous,

they could burn you, but I wanted to reach out and touch them, to feel their heat, to sit by

their light, to see if this was all for real.

So I came in the shadows, hidden in the darkness, where no one could see me or judge me.

I asked him my questions – putting on a bit of an edge, keeping my rhetorical distance –

even though inside the questions were burning me up. His answers were so full of riddles

and twists – well over my head - and yet so full of truth and insight they drew me right in.

‘Rabbi’ I said, ‘we know that you are a teacher from God – for no one can do these signs

apart from God’s presence.’ The answer: ‘no one can see the kingdom of God without being

born again – born from above.’ Born again?!? How can anyone be born after having grown

old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb? ‘No one can enter the kingdom of

God without being born of water and Spirit.’ And on Jesus went – talking about the Spirit and

the wind blowing where it will, and earthly and heavenly things. I couldn’t keep up. God so

loved the world. The light has come into the world. My head was spinning. I was face to face

with a light of truth so bright I couldn’t take it all in. I retreated into the safety of the shadows,

but I knew I would be back – no matter what the cost. This Jesus was the real thing.

~ written by Mark Diller Harder, St. Jacobs Mennonite Church, January 2010. Posted in the From Our Churches archive on the Mennonite Church Canada Resource Centre website.  http://resources.mennonitechurch.ca/FileDownload/12314/Nicodemus_monologue.pdf

Monologue: the Ascension of Jesus

Here’s a creative monologue on the ascension of Jesus (Acts 1:1-11) from Roddy Hamilton. 

The Letter of Theophilus

The imaginary letter Theophilus wrote in response

to Luke’s original ones of his Gospel and Acts.

My dear Luke,

Thank you for your first book about Jesus… As you can guess… I was most intrigued to hear you were writing a second volume… and have been looking forward to it with expectation… I did wonder how this wonderful story could continue after resurrection… and so on receiving your second volume… I was keen to start reading straight away…

In your first book you kept me gripped with a story full of wonder and grace… of healing and miraculous events… but more than anything… it was Jesus who fascinated me… a miracle worker yet whose miracles were incidental to the purpose of his life… which was to offer and show us how to live life fully given over to the love of God…

I was fascinated therefore with the details you gave of the resurrection and the sightings of him after those mysterious events at the empty tomb… And to imagine all you say is true… makes it even more of a tale of wonder and grace…

Imagine then… what it was like to open your second volume and read straight away the story of Jesus departure from among us… My heart skipped a beat as I imagined in my mind his ascension… I must confess I did wonder what was going to happen to Jesus ever since the early days of resurrection… I knew in my heart of hearts he couldn’t be with us always… so limited geographically to one place at a time… 

But an ascension… such a difficult thing to imagine… I can’t tell if you are offering a symbolic story here… or outlining the facts… either way… the means of his departure seem unimportant…

I imagine you are saying that it is what is left in his place that is important… and the implication of the two men who turn up as the disciples stare into space… as if longing for Jesus to be with them… is beautifully and subtly made… Though I have to confess… I can imagine how they felt… those poor disciples… having been through so much… tying their whole lives and livelihood to Jesus… and now all of that familiarity is gone… It must have been quite a blow to them…

So far… I have read but the first page… and am looking forward to hearing how the tale will grow… but I imagine that they will discover they have been left with more than they imagine… a confidence? I am sure… a hope? I am certain… but if everything I have read so far is true… and I do not doubt you one bit, Luke my friend… then there will be love… a love that has seen all things… even death being defeated… and in that Spirit and truth… I dare not even imagine what might yet happen to this new movement…

Jesus is gone… but it seems he is more alive now… than ever before…

Thank you for encouraging my faith… with your own… I am beginning to trust this adventure called The Way…

Your friend,

Theophilus

~ written by Roddy Hamilton, and posted on Listening to the Stones. http://newkilpatrickblog.typepad.com/nk-blogging/mucky-paws/

Mother's Day Monologues

Rev. Marianne C. Paul has written a set of five monologues based on the experiences of five different mothers in Scripture:  Eve, Sarah, Moses’ mother, the Pharaoh’s daughter, and Mary (the mother of Jesus). Because of their length, I’ve only included the first two here.  If you’d like the complete set, send Marianne an email, and she'll forward the whole set to you: mariannethesecond@gmail.com 

Eve

You tell me.  Would you really want to live in Paradise?  Would you embrace a world where no one dies…. If it meant that no one would ever be born?

Life—as you know it—is ever changing.  Children become adults, maybe parents, and they grow old; and, in the natural order of things, they die.

Imagine a world with no children:  no children for parents to scold; no children for grandparents to spoil.  That was paradise.

Even the pain of child birth vibrated through me… I was alive.  And the joy of holding that first child: exquisite!  The delight of that baby far outweighed the pain of birth.  Satan did not lie.

Ah… but neither did he tell all the truth.  There are many kinds of pain and not all are physical.  Worse, some are preventable.  How many times over the years did I wonder what could…should …I have done differently?  That question.  That question is the child of free will; unknown in paradise.

There are so many questions unknown in paradise.  Can the joy of holding your firstborn son be extinguished when he kills his brother?  That one day I lost two sons and was left with only questions that even I cannot answer.

Motherhood is risky business.  But that did not stop me from having another child.

Sarah

In all my long years this much I have learned: Laughter will shatter even the deepest darkness.  When I was young and considered beautiful, the Lord made a promise as welcome as a well in a desert flowing with water cold and clear.  Your descendents will be as numerous as the stars in the sky.  Could there be an immortality any greater than that?

At first the promise burned brightly in our hearts.  We were busy making baby after baby, eager to do our part.  But, the babies never came.  Our cattle multiplied beyond belief and we were rich beside our neighbors.  But not even one child stirred to life within me: not a son not a daughter.

Following the advice of well meaning friends and aunts who thought they could understand my sorrow, I offered up my maid to create a child.  And to Abraham’s joy a son was born.  Ishmael.  With him my darkness intensified.  I had failed.   Had the Lord of Abram told a lie?  Perhaps he had never spoken.  Perhaps we had imagined the Promise.

It wasn’t until I was old and dried up and all hope was gone that the angel came with another message from the Lord.  God had not forgotten.  This was the year the baby would come.

The laughter came from deep within me.  The promise I had held and lost was renewed.  I laughed because I was happy.  I laughed because I was terrified.  I am not sure if I was more afraid of the promise failing again or being fulfilled.         

With that laughter I took a breath and then another, breathing in the air of angels.  Later holding that promised son in my wrinkled arms, I looked into his eyes.  There I saw the brightness of the stars and I knew that from this smallest of beginnings God’s promises could always be trusted.

— written by Rev. Marianne C. Paul.  Free for congregational use.  If you are interested in the other three monologues (Moses’ mother, the daughter of Pharaoh, and Mary), drop Marianne an email:  mariannethesecond@gmail.com and she'll get them to you. 

For other worship resources for Mother’s Day, click on Mother’s Day in the list of “Labels” at the lower right side of the page.

Monologue: John 20: 19-25

If your worship this week includes a look at John 20:19-25 (the story of “doubting” Thomas), here’s a short monologue.  It was written by Chrystal Goolsby.

Monologue: Thomas the Twin

(based on John 20:19-25; Luke 24:36-43)

I can’t believe all that has happened in the last few days. We thought Jesus was the Messiah we had all been waiting for, but he died without delivering us! Who will help us now?

Three days ago, Jesus of Nazareth was put on the cross and he died. He was put in a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea. My friends, who, along with me, make up a group of his followers, came running to me just now, saying that they saw him, alive. Impossible! They insist that it is true, but I don’t believe it.

They told me that were hiding in the upper room of a house, in a group, talking, when a man suddenly appeared in the room and said, “Peace be with you.” The room was locked, because they were afraid they would be arrested, too, and this man just appeared inside the room!

As you can imagine, they were shocked and horrified! They thought it was a ghost. But then he showed them the wounds he got when he was crucified—holes in his hands and feet, as well as a wound in his side from a spear.

They said they were still not sure he was a real human being. But he asked for some food. They gave him a piece of fish from their supper, and he ate it while they watched.

It was then that they knew he was really alive, and they came running to tell me. But I don’t believe it. Once a man is dead, he is dead. I won’t believe it until I see him for myself, and can put my fingers into his wounds.

— written by Crystal Goolsby, from Austin, Texas. From With Our Own Eyes: Seven Monologues for Children about the Resurrection Appearances of Jesus (Sacred Seasons Lent/Eastertide 2009 packet produced by Seeds of Hope Publishers).

Pentecost Monologue II

I Was There at Pentecost: A Monologue

Ah, Pentecost. People ask me about it every once in a while. I remember it as through it were yesterday -- though it's been twenty years or more since then. History was being made, the end of an old era, the beginning of the new -- and I was there.

I was 19 or so, up to Jerusalem from Galilee for Passover. Just a kid. It was the year they crucified Jesus, a fellow Galilean. I was stunned, heartbroken. After his death I just didn't go home. I hung around with some of his followers, in hiding actually. And then on Sunday, word came that he had risen from the dead. And so I stayed in the city.

Those were heady days, with Jesus appearing to the apostles and others for weeks on end. Then he ascended, went up into heaven. We were to wait in the city, the apostles told us. Something about power and witnessing and the Holy Spirit. So we waited -- about 120 of us -- meeting morning and evening, talking, reading scripture, praying. Nearly ten days we waited like that.

Then one morning when we had gathered together for early prayer -- about 8 o'clock or so -- the building where we were meeting was hit by a whirlwind -- or so it seemed. You could hear the howling of the wind but couldn't feel it in the room.

"O dear Jesus," someone called out. And then came the flames -- dancing flames appeared in the room above us.

"God Almighty," another person shouted. Peter was praying loudly, other apostles joining in. It was eerie, when I think about it. Wind that didn't blow, flames that didn't burn -- like the glory of God on the mountain when he appeared to Moses.

All over the room flames were licking, flaring over people. And as they did it seemed like the brother or the sister would explode. Joy would flood their faces, tears course down their cheeks, praise fill their lips. Hands were up and down. People were laughing and weeping, kneeling and standing on tiptoes reaching up, as it were, to God….

—Dr. Ralph F. Wilson, posted on his Joyful Heart website.  To read the entire monologue, go here. 

See also Pentecost Drama, Readers’ Theatre for Pentecost, Dramatic Readings for Pentecost and Pentecost Monologue I. 

For more creative worship resources for Pentecost Sunday, click on Pentecost in the list of Labels at the lower right side of the page.

Pentecost Monologue I

Pentecost Monologue

Setting:  The speaker is an attender at the first “world conference” in Jerusalem on Pentecost.  He/she is dressed as a traveler, perhaps wearing a backpack and a nametag. Something unexpected has happened at this conference—and the speaker is still metaphorically scratching his or her head and eager to think it through. The scene opens with the speaker/pilgrim taking pictures and looking around at all the wonders.

Oh, hi there, are you a delegate too? Where are you from? Cappadocia? (looking confused) Where is that exactly? I never was any good with geography; I should’ve paid more attention in school. How long have you been at the convention? Oh—you just got here? Oohh. . .too bad! The most amazing thing just happened.

Yeah, just a little bit ago. Me too—just unpacked my stuff at the hotel and went to registration. They were handing out these great maps, so I thought I’d do a little sightseeing before the first delegate session. As I was passing one of the designated prayer sites, I heard this sound like. . .oh, I don’t know, a giant. . .wind, or something. I looked around in case there was a storm coming on (forgot my umbrella, wouldn’t you know!) but no—no clouds, no lightning. A beautiful day, in fact. That startling sound  was coming from. . . .the prayer room.

All by itself, that seemed pretty weird to me. I mean, I know different countries have different prayer traditions, but I’d never heard of a prayer meeting turning into a natural disaster! But there was more. . . . It reminded me, kind of, of a light show, only it was broad daylight and you could still see it, which never happens. At least not where I come from. There we always wait for dark to start the fireworks.

I was thinking about putting on sunglasses and checking it out when everyone in the prayer room started talking in loud voices. It sounded like gibberish at first, but then I began to pick out someone speaking in my language.  What are the odds of that? I mean, I know there are other Medes here, but usually when someone translates, they take turns with the main speaker, you know, and usually, the conference only provides translation into Greek and Latin. And here’s the thing: the other people who were standing around were obviously also hearing their mother tongue. We all sort of looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. And I thought to myself, “Baby, this is gonna to be some rockin’ conference! Start out like this and who knows where it will go!”

Oh, yeah—forgot to mention that. They were talking about God’s great acts in our history (I mean us Jews) and that now that God had done a new thing—sent the Messiah, Jesus, who had been killed by the Romans but raised up alive! Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. Have you ever heard of such a thing?

One of the people who was listening started to laugh. “Just ignore ‘em!,” he said. “Can’t you tell they’re drunk?” But then a guy came out of the room to clear things up. “Are you kidding?” he said. “It’s only 9:00 a.m.! Who starts drinking that early in the morning? No, what you’re hearing is what the prophet Joel predicted: ‘In the last days, God declares, I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’”

I gotta tell you, I came expecting something, but this is way beyond what I’d imagined! I wonder if there will be a workshop on this, or if these folks will be leading worship tonight. There’s something about them that seems so. . .real. And I’d like to hear more about this Jesus they were talking about. If God’s Messiah has finally come, I don’t want to miss it! Not to mention actually being filled with God’s own Spirit. . .wow. That would be amazing.

-- From Leader Online, a magazine for pastors and lay leaders in the Anabaptist tradition.

See also Pentecost Drama, Readers’ Theatre for Pentecost, Dramatic Readings for Pentecost and Pentecost Monologue II.

For more creative worship resources for Pentecost Sunday, click on Pentecost in the list of Labels at the lower right side of the page.  

Ascension Day Monologue



Ascension, by Rembrandt, 1636

 Here’s a dramatic monologue about the ascension of Jesus, written from the perspective of a disciple.  It comes from the Leader Online, a quarterly publication for pastors and lay leaders in the Anabaptist tradition.

A Disciple Reflects on the Ascension

(looking up into the sky, then “noticing” congregation) Oh! I didn’t see you there. Well, he’s gone—just left, in fact. I can’t quite believe it—it’s not like we have a plan in place, or any of us really know what to do next. What now? Obviously I can’t keep standing here, but . . .what else am I gonna do?

And I think this time it may be permanent, not like before when he’d come and go, and we’d run into him days later somewhere else in Galilee. What? Oohhh. . . .sorry, I guess I thought you knew who I was talking about. Remember a month or so back, around the Passover, when the Romans executed that traveling teacher? Yeah, that one: the healer and storyteller and critiquer of the religious establishment. Uh-huh. And then. . .well, you may not have heard this part, but (whispering) after about three days later he appeared to us. (full voice) Yeah. Not dead. Couldn’t quite account for it. . . . God just. . . .raised him. There’s no other explanation. ‘Cause none of us are crazy. I mean, we know the difference between real and pretend. And he was really dead. I saw it myself. And then he wasn’t. Saw that too.

(as if in response to another’s comment) So you’ve heard those rumors too, about us followers overpowering the guards at the tomb and stealing the body? (rolling eyes). Seriously. Look at us. Do we seem like the kind of people who could pull that off? If he hadn’t appeared to us and told us to let go of our fear, we’d still be hiding behind locked doors. Nope. We’re about the best advertisement there is that he’s really risen. Nothing else could have snapped us out of it.

So. . . like I was saying, I’m not sure what’s next. He did mention a while back that we were going to receive some kind of power. So I guess the best plan is to sit tight and pray for the whatever-it-is. . .yeah, the Holy Spirit, that’s it, to give us power to. . . . Well, I’m not sure exactly. Be witnesses. You’d think he could have spelled it out a little more than that. But that was always how he was, saying stuff like, “If anyone has ears to hear, let them listen.” What does that mean, anyway? We all got ears!

He also used to tell all these stories about people who weren’t ready and who missed it, like the foolish bridesmaids who were off shopping for supplies and missed the wedding banquet. I don’t plan on being like one of them—I don’t want to miss anything. So I’m gonna follow those vague directions we did get—go back into town and wait with the rest of them (the rest of the followers, I mean) and pray and stay put until something happens. I’m sure it will. There was that moment after he died when I had my doubts, but the truth is, God hasn’t let us down yet, and don’t see any reason that would change anytime soon.

—posted on Leader Online

For more creative worship resources for Ascension, click on Ascension in the list of “Labels” at the lower right side of the page.

Easter 6: Dramatic Monologue

Giovanni Paolo Pannini, Ruins with Paul Preaching

Here is a dramatic monologue reflecting on Paul’s sermon “to an unknown God” in Athens (Acts 17:22-31), given from the perspective of an Athenian listener.  It comes from the Leader Online website, a quarterly publication for pastors and lay leaders in the Anabaptist tradition.

This monologue was designed to follow a readers’ theater presentation of Acts 17:22-31. If you’re interested, you can find it here.  

Monologue: An Athenian

(Comes walking across stage and pretends to hear a question from the congregation. It would be especially effective for him to be carrying a filled pita wrapped in wax paper—or something that looks like it) What was that? How did I learn about Jesus? Hmm. . .well, I’d known about him for a while. Stories of his life and prophetic work would pop up occasionally even here in Athens—this is one of those cities that sees lots of travelers, and we do love news from other places. Never met this Jesus person face to face, mind you—he was just a stranger who was occasionally featured in a story from far away. That is, until recently. But let me start at the beginning.

I was at the market getting a couple of slices of roast lamb to make gyros [pronounced heroes] for supper when I heard a man talking about another type of hero. That caught my attention, and since I had some time on my hands, I got closer so I could hear what he was saying.

The speaker said this crazy thing: the God he was talking about was not an “unknown” god like we have written on one of our public altars, but the real deal: the God who created all and lives in all. Not only that, but we were this God’s children—we were alive and living because of him. Well, I thought to myself, that takes the cake, all right. I’ve never heard of a god who claimed humans as his offspring. Usually it’s just “plop down that offering and off with you,” if you know what I mean.

The man—Paul, his name was—said that now that we knew the unknown God, and that he wasn’t unknown, we might as well give up worshipping gods made out of gold and silver or stone, ones that had been created by a sculptor’s hand. Kind of made sense to me, I have to say. Never did understand what good a statue was going to do anyone, no matter how much you prayed to it.

Then he started talking about a final judgment with a man God had appointed—and apparently raised from the dead. He also said we should repent and ask for forgiveness. Some of the people standing around lost interest when it came to this: the entertainment was over. But it seemed to me that we were finally getting somewhere, so I invited Paul home so I could hear more. A few others followed along: I figured once I was feeding one extra, what difference did a few more make? All in all there were eight of us, a good table-full. Paul told us all about Jesus—I mean, the real stuff, not just a story or two—and. . .well, to make a long story short, we all became followers of the Way that very night.

So that’s how it all happened, and I often think how fortunate I am. If it wasn’t for Paul, and for Jesus, I might still be worshiping false idols. But now, I’ve found a better way. Praise be to God! It’s really too good to keep to myself, so I’ve been telling anyone who’ll listen—like you, for example—about what I’ve learned and how my life has changed. Which reminds me. . . .(to congregation) look, why don’t you come to our meeting on the Sabbath and learn more for yourselves? Paul’s still with us, and you could hear it direct from him (walks off stage as he’s finishing talking).

—from Leader Online  

See also Sermon at Mars Hill: Acts 17—a paraphrase of Paul’s entire sermon in Athens.

For other creative worship resources for the 6^th Sunday of Easter (May 29, 2011), click on Easter 6 in the list of “Labels”  on the lower right side of the page.

Easter 5: Dramatic Monologue

Rembrandt, The Stoning of St. Stephen

Here is a dramatic monologue about the stoning of Stephen (Acts 7:55-60) given from the perspective of the young Saul.  It comes from the Leader Online website, a quarterly publication for pastors and lay leaders in the Anabaptist tradition.

This scripture reading is designed to be preceded by a readers’ theater presentation of Acts 7:55-60.  You can find it here. 

Saul reflects on the stoning of Stephen

(Acts 7:55-60)

(The monologue opens with Saul reflecting at center stage about Stephen’s stoning.

He is filled with disdain and sarcasm.)

“Stephen full of grace and power,” that’s what they said about him. Sure, he did great “signs and wonders,”  but who was behind it all? It wasn’t Yahweh, that’s for sure! Someone operating outside the boundaries like that, not respecting the proper channels—a sure sign that Beelzebub was involved one way or the other, and amazing that people didn’t see it from the start! I just knew he was guilty, and when we found the required number of witnesses to confirm which side he was really on, I was elated. The truth will out. The heretic group Stephen belongs to needs to be condemned promptly and brought to justice. The scourge of society, they stand against everything that’s right, following Je. . .Je. . . (unable to say the name, shudders and speaks in disgust), I can’t even say the name!

So I was feeling pretty good—we finally had this Stephen dead to rights. And we were thinking maybe the guilty verdict would start our glorious persecution off on the right foot, and then we could then go on to wipe out his whole sect and get back to the business of being good Jews.  (Pauses a beat and looks perplexed). I tell you—the guy didn’t have a clue. Instead of backing off, he just kept hammering away at us. (Getting more irritated as he tries to get the wording right)  He called us stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in hearts and ears, people who persecuted and killed the prophets of old, the ones who’d received the law but NOT kept it! We, not keep the law? Preposterous! Can you imagine invoking our prophets to perpetrate an outright lie?

(with great satisfaction) Then the straw that broke the camel’s back. He claimed to see God up in heaven with their fake Messiah, that man Jesus, at his side. (covers his ears and starts talking very loudly) At that point, the sentence went from jail to death. Really, there’s only so far you can let someone go—and then you have to stop them any way you can. So we dragged him outside of the city to stone him.  It was actually more than I’d hoped for—they’d let Peter and John go once, and another time Peter actually managed to escape, but maybe this signaled that the tide was now turning in favor of us defenders of Yahweh and Yahweh’s ways.

(Removes his hands and starts motioning towards himself) You understand that for ritual reasons I couldn’t participate in the stoning myself, but I told those who could to bring me their coats and lay them at my feet. I was happy to help in any way I could, to do my part to see this heretic meet his end. After all, he was only getting what he deserved! (Pauses, then another look of confusion) But here’s the thing. . . I can’t quite forget, the thing that sometimes wakes me up at night. Clearly, Stephen was a heretic. Clearly he deserved to die. I knew that. Everyone knew that. But I just can’t make that. . .match with the words he spoke right before he died: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. Do not hold this sin against them.” It doesn’t make sense. It’s like. . .like we were the ones who were doing the wrong thing. But we weren’t. We couldn’t have been. So what was he talking about? (Waving his hand in exasperation as he walks off) Ahhh!

For more worship resources for the fifth Sunday of Easter (May 22, 2011), click on Easter 5 in the list of “Labels” at the lower right.

Creative Worship Resources: Emmaus Road

Liturgies, Monologues, and Drama: Emmaus Road

If you’re looking for creative worship resources about the Emmaus Road encounter, here are a few suggestions you might want to explore:

Wellsprings-on-the-Web has posted The Road to Emmaus - a Liturgy for Easter Morning.  You may not be able to do the liturgy in its entirely, but perhaps a portion here or there might suit.  The dramatic dialogue between Jesus and the two disciples is worth taking a look at.  

For a monologue based on the Emmaus story, check out The Emmaus Incident, written by Crystal Goolsby from Austin, Texas.  It’s the fourth scene in a larger collection of Easter monologues called With Our Own Eyes: Seven Monologues for Children about the Resurrection Appearances of Jesus, published by Seeds of Hope Publishers).

If you’re looking for a short drama, check out The Road to Emmaus, from Nige’s Christian Drama. It’s about 5-7 minutes long.

For another Easter drama option, see On the Road to Emmaus, written by Will Groben and posted on his website, Groben.com.

For more worship resources for the third Sunday of Easter, click on Easter 3 A

in the list of “Labels” to the lower right.