Christmas Pageant: The GOAT

The GOAT
A Christmas Skit

By Eric Anderson

CHARACTERS

Shepherd 1: A tender of sheep
Shepherd 2: A tender of sheep and one goat
Sheep: A wooly creature
Goat: A non-wooly creature
Lead Angel: A messenger to shepherds
Angels: A backup chorus of messengers
Mary: A young woman
Joseph: A young man
Magi 1: A scholar dressed a lot like a king
Magi 2: Another scholar dressed a lot like a king

SCENE 1: A hillside

[SHEPHERD 1, SHEPHERD 2, GOAT, and SHEEP enter]

Shepherd 1:                I can’t believe you brought a goat.

Shepherd 2:                Why not bring a goat? Goats are cool. They don’t get lost as often as sheep. And they give milk. That’s useful.

Shepherd 1:                OK, all that is true. But you only brought one goat. Shouldn’t you have brought a herd of goats?

Shepherd 2:                Of course I’ve heard of goats.

Shepherd 1:                Ha, ha. I’m not sure that joke is going to be funny even if two thousand years go by.

Shepherd 2:                I thought it was funny. And I’m sure the goat heard. Did you think it was funny?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 1:                Why did you bring just one goat?

Shepherd 2:                I’m picky.

Shepherd 1:                So brought just one goat because…

Shepherd 2:                It’s the best goat.

Shepherd 1:                Just how do you choose the best goat?

Shepherd 2:                The best goat has great hair, great hooves, great ears, and most of all, great horns.

Shepherd 1:                And this one is the best goat, is it?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 2:                You hear them? They agree.

Shepherd 1:                That sounded like “Bah” to me.

[The LEAD ANGEL and the ANGELS enter]

Shepherds:                 Aaaggghhhh!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Goat:                           Bah!

Lead Angel:                 Do not be afraid!

Shepherd 1:                Why not? I’m terrified!

Shepherd 2:                Me, too! I planned on the best goat, not the Lead Angel.

Angels:                        Us, too!

Shepherd 2:                Plus the other angels. Sorry.

Lead Angel:                 I bring you good news!

Shepherd 1:                We’re getting good grass this season?

Shepherd 2:                The price of goat’s milk is going up?

Shepherd 1:                My family is going to learn to spin and weave wool?

Shepherd 2:                This really is the best goat ever?

Sheep:                         Bah!

Goat:                           Bah!

Angels:                        Hush and you’ll learn something!

Lead Angel:                 Think bigger, shepherds.

Angels:                        Much bigger!

Shepherd 2:                I need a bigger goat?

Goat:                           Bah!

Lead Angel:                 No. Down the hill in the City of David…

Shepherd 1:                The what?

Lead Angel:                 Bethlehem. It’s where King David came from.

Angels:                        Now stop interrupting!

Lead Angel:                 Down in the City of David a child has been born to save all people. He is the Messiah, the Lord.

Shepherd 1:                Wow.

Lead Angel:                 Go to the city and look for a newborn who is wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.

Shepherd 2:                Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but… what are swaddling cloths?

Lead Angel:                 You don’t have children, do you?

Shepherd 2:                No. I have the best goat, though.

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Lead Angel:                 Swaddling cloths are light blankets you wrap around a baby to keep him warm.

Shepherd 2:                Oh. OK. Good. And… One other thing?

Lead Angel:                 Really? All right. What else do you want to know?

Shepherd 2:                A manger? Like, a feeding trough? We should be looking for the Messiah in a stable?

Lead Angel:                 Where else would you look?

Shepherd 1:                Don’t argue with the angel.

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 2:                Right. We’ll look in the stables.

Shepherd 1:                Thanks for the good news!

Angels:                        Hallelujah! Glory to God!

[ANGELS and LEAD ANGEL exit]

Shepherd 2:                What do we do now?

Shepherd 1:                You might want to argue with angels, but not me. We’re going to Bethlehem.

Goat:                           Bah!

Shepherd 1:                Don’t forget your goat.

[SHEPHERD 1, SHEPHERD 2, GOAT, and SHEEP exit]

SCENE 2: A Stable

[MARY and JOSEPH enter with baby]

Mary:                          Did I just have a baby in a stable?

[JOSEPH looks at the bundle Mary is carrying]

Joseph:                        That’s a baby you’ve got. I’d say yes. Yes, you just had a baby in a stable.

Mary:                          No wonder I’m so tired. Can you hold him for a bit?

Joseph:                        Sure. Wait. There’s a manger here. It’s got straw in it. That should be soft for a baby, right?

Mary:                          Put him in it and see if he cries.

[JOSEPH puts the baby in the manger. No crying]

Joseph:                        No crying.

Mary:                          Not from him, maybe. I’m about ready to cry. What a night!

Joseph:                        It’s all right, Mary. It’ll all be quiet from here.

[SHEPHERD 1, SHEPHERD 2, GOAT, and SHEEP enter]

Shepherd 1:                Hi. Sorry to bother you, but is there a baby here in a manger?

Shepherd 2:                This is our sixth stable tonight and boy are my feet tired.

[GOAT looks in the manger]

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 2:                Would you look at that?

Shepherd 1:                It’s a baby in a manger!

Shepherd 2:                And my goat found it. He really is the best, you know.

Joseph:                        Excuse me, but who are you?

Mary:                          And why are you looking for a baby in a manger? Why would you even think to look for a baby in a manger?

Shepherd 1:                Oh, we didn’t think of it.

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 2:                We don’t think very much, really.

Shepherd 1:                Some angels came and told us to look for a baby in a manger.

Shepherd 2:                It was pretty scary, actually.

Shepherd 1:                It was scarier after you started arguing with the angels. Who does that?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 2:                I don’t do it often.

Joseph:                        Slow down. You say angels told you to come here?

Shepherd 1:                They told us to look here.

Shepherd 2:                And six stables later, here you are!

Mary:                          Why? Why did the angels tell you to look for a baby in a stable?

Shepherd 2:                Oh. Didn’t we mention that?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Shepherd 1:                I guess we didn’t. You see, the angel told us that this baby is…

Goat:                           Bah!

Shepherd 2:                The Messiah!

[Everyone looks at the baby]

Shepherd 1:                So… that’s what a Messiah looks like?

Mary:                          When he’s just been born.

Shepherd 2:                Oh. So you knew already?

Mary:                          Let’s just say I’ve had my own conversation with an angel.

Shepherd 1:                I’m sure she didn’t argue the way you did.

Mary:                          I just asked questions.

[LEAD ANGEL and other ANGELS enter]

Lead Angel:                 You didn’t argue at all.

Mary:                          It was weird, though.

Lead Angel:                 Of course it was unusual. You don’t think we send Messiah every day, do you?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Lead Angel:                 Well said.

Angels:                        Hallelujah!

Shepherd 2:                Of course it’s well said. He’s the best goat.

[MAGI 1 and MAGI 2 enter. MAGI 1 is really tired.]

Magi 1:                        Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.

Lead Angel:                 Hey, that’s my line!

Mary:                          Yes, I’ve heard that one before.

Magi 2:                        I’m sorry. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s been carrying the heavy stuff.

Joseph:                        If you don’t mind, who are you, and why are you barging into our baby’s bedroom – er, stable – at this hour?

Magi 1:                        Barging? We haven’t got a barge. Not a sign of a boat at all. No, we’ve had camels.

Magi 2:                        Our other friend is parking the camels.

Magi 1:                        Why didn’t he bring them in here? It’s a stable, after all.

Magi 2:                        Because of the newborn baby? Really. Put the gold down. It’s not helping you think.

[The MAGI put their bundles down]

Shepherd 1:                Did he say, “Gold”?

Shepherd 2:                I think he said “Gold”.

Mary:                          Gold?

Joseph:                        Gold?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Lead Angel:                 Yes, he said gold.

Mary:                          Why are you carrying gold?

Magi 1:                        I’m not carrying it any more. I put it down.

Magi 2:                        What my exhausted friend means is that we’re here to celebrate the birth of the newborn Messiah. That’s him, isn’t it? In… Why is he in a feeding trough?

Joseph:                        There wasn’t any room in the inn.

Magi 1:                        I guess the inn was an “out.”

Magi 2:                        That’s not going to be funny if you wait for two thousand years.

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Magi 1:                        Is that a goat criticizing my sense of humor?

Shepherd 2:                Yes, sir, but rest assured, he’s the best goat. The best goat ever.

Magi 1:                        Oh. Well, that’s different. The best goat ever.

Joseph:                        Could we go back to why you’re here?

Magi 2:                        We’re here to welcome the newborn king, and to make sure he’s greeted with proper respect.

Magi 1:                        And presents.

Magi 2:                        Right. Presents for a king.

Mary:                          Kings get presents?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Magi 1:                        Oh, yes. Kings definitely get presents. And given that this one is sleeping in a manger, it seems like a good thing.

Joseph:                        He’s got a point.

Lead Angel:                 Oh, while we’re talking about it, you’ll probably want to sell the presents and go to Egypt for a while. And, wise men? Don’t go back to tell Herod where this baby is. OK?

Goat:                           Bah!

Sheep:                         Bah!

Angels:                        Amen!

Magi 2:                        Well. All right. We’ll go home another way.

Lead Angel:                 Good plan.

Mary:                          Could you tell me one more time why you’re all here in this stable with my baby in the middle of the night?

Shepherd 2:                Well, you see, we’ve got the best goat…

Shepherd 1:                I can’t believe you brought up the goat.

Shepherd 2:                No, really. We’ve got the best goat. But when I listen to the wise men here, and when I listen to the angels…

Lead Angel:                 When you’re not interrupting the angels…

Shepherd 2:                I realize that while I might have the best goat, here in this manger you’ve got, I mean, we’ve got, I mean, the whole world has got:

The GREATEST OF ALL TIME.

Goat:                           Amen!

ALL SING Hark! The Herald Angels Sing

© 2025 by Eric S. Anderson

Watch this Pageant Performed

The young people of Church of the Holy Cross UCC in Hilo, Hawai’i, performed “The GOAT” on December 21, 2025.

Author’s Note

I began writing Christmas pageants a few years ago when I realized that we could violate copyright if we streamed a commercially available script via live stream. It says something about me that I was more willing to write a script than I was to dig through the marketing of pageants to find one that included a streaming license.

It also means that I can adapt the script to the available actors. I once wrote a script with no Joseph because we simply didn’t have a youngster willing to do the role. In this case, the children were very impressed with a story featuring a goat that our Associate Conference Minister, the Rev. Jonathan Roach, told them some months ago. One of them announced that he wanted to be a goat in the pageant, and therefore the pageant needed to include a goat.

As is the way of some creatures, the goat took over.

One of the things I like about this pageant is the way everyone notices all the things that simply don’t make sense, such as a newborn monarch born in a stable rather than a palace. It emphasizes the truth that God does what God does, not what we expect God to do. A Messiah was born in a stable. What more might be waiting in God’s imagination?

Photo of goats by Eric Anderson.

Story: The ‘Apapane’s Christmas Carol (2025 version)

December 21, 2025

Isaiah 7:10-16
Matthew 1:18-25

I don’t know how it came into the ‘apapane’s head to organize a Christmas pageant. I don’t even know how he’d heard about Christmas, let alone a Christmas pageant. Nevertheless, he flew all over the island, searching for creatures to take part in the pageant.

He asked the I’iwi, who was feeling grumpy that day and didn’t say yes, or no, or anything at all.

He asked the ‘io, which was very brave of him. The ‘io said she might come and looked… hungry.

He flew down to the shoreline to ask the honu. She said no, she wasn’t going to swim up to the mountain forest, which seemed fair. A house sparrow said he might fly up after he’d finished his bath.

A saffron finch thought it sounded odd but said he might hang around for it. The ‘apapane asked a yellow-billed cardinal and a myna. They both looked doubtful, and then the myna started an argument with some other mynas that wasn’t over when he left to talk to more shorebirds.

The auku’u looked puzzled, but said he’d come. “I’m coming, too,” announced a kolea. “I’ve flown thousands of miles for this. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“If the kolea is coming, I’m coming, too,” piped up an ‘akekeke, and a hunakai said the same.

The koa’e kea announced that she would play Mary, because didn’t Mary have a long tail? The ‘apapane wasn’t sure, so he didn’t argue. An ala’e ke’oke’o asked if there was a good fish pond up in the forest, and when he was told there wasn’t, looked skeptical.

The ae’o said she might turn up. If she felt like it. If she didn’t have anything else to do. The cattle egret said, of course he’d be there. One of his ancestors had been present at the original birth, hadn’t she?

The ‘apapane left the shorebirds to spread the word further and returned to the forest. The oma’o stopped singing barely long enough to say, “Yes.” The ‘alawi just looked nervous and kept hunting insects without saying anything.

He searched long and hard for an ‘akiapola’au, who asked, “What’s that all about?” After listening to the ‘apapane’s explanation, he gave a whistle and flew off into the forest. The nene just stared at him.

When it was pageant time, it was chaos. Creatures stepped into the clearing the ‘apapane had selected, then faded back into the trees again. Frightened chirps flew back and forth, and so did frightened birds. Mejiro and ‘elepaio peeped out from the trees. The mynas announced that they would be the angel chorus, then exploded into another argument.

“What do you need to settle down and play your parts?” shouted the ‘apapane from a tree.

“Is the ‘io here?” asked an ‘amakihi. “Yes,” said the ‘io from the sky overhead. “Are you going to eat us?” asked the ‘amakihi. For a moment there was silence. Then the ‘io said, “No. Not today. Today there’s a pageant to do.”

The ‘apapane spent the next hour answering the questions. The koa’e kea had just flown in from a lava fountain, and since she wanted to play Mary, she did. A kioea had flown up from the shore and wanted to play Joseph. “You’re a rare bird,” said the ‘apapane, so he did. The little ‘elepaio played shepherds while the nene played sheep. The I’iwi didn’t want to cheer up, so he played the grumpy innkeeper. The sleeping pig was cast as a sleeping cow and did it very well.

High overhead the ‘io provided the voice of Gabriel, while ‘apapane, ‘amakihi, mejiro, and mynas sang as the angel chorus. Seabirds and shorebirds took places as creatures of the stable.

When the time came, birds from other shores – a northern cardinal, a red junglefowl, and a pair of zebra doves – played the magi.

The ‘akiapola’au lay just one egg and very rarely, so a young one played Jesus.

When it was over, the creatures vanished back into the trees, leaving the ‘apapane alone in the silence. He’d answered every question, met every need, somehow.

The trees rustled in the breeze, applauding the ‘apapene’s Christmas pageant.

The End.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

On this occasion, I read from the prepared text (and still made a couple of changes).

Photos by Eric Anderson.

Dreaming with Joseph

“But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.'” – Matthew 1:20-21

Let me dream with you, Joseph,
just for a moment.

Let us dream together that our trust
is well placed.
Let us dream together of a
promise fulfilled.

Let us dream together of a
God who is with us.
Let us dream together of a
break in the gloom.

Let us dream together, waking
newly resolved.
Let us dream together and see
a new day.

Let me dream with you, Joseph,
just for a moment.

A poem/prayer based on Matthew 1:18-25, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year A, Fourth Sunday of Advent.

The image is a 12th century fresco of Joseph’s Dream and Joseph and Mary with the Cherry Tree (bizarrely misunderstood as Adam and Eve) in the crypt of the Notre-Dame Gargilesse church, Gargilesse-Dampierre, France. Photo by Daniel VILLAFRUELA, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19347294.

Story: Why Do You Fly So Far?

A myna (a dark colored bird with yellow feathers around the eye) and a kolea (Pacific Golden-plover, a light brown bird with darker brown spots) in a grassy field.

December 14, 2025

Luke 1:46-55
Matthew 11:2-11

The kolea is a pretty mellow bird. They’re not terribly skittish, though some will keep a sensible distance from people. We are a lot bigger than a kolea and probably look kind of scary to them.

The myna, on the other hand, is not a mellow bird. They sing a fair amount, but they also screech and argue. They’re pretty sociable with one another, and one moment everybody is happy and content, and the next moment everybody is hollering at one another.

Which makes them a lot like some people, now that I think of it.

Mynas fly, of course, but you could call them homebodies. They don’t tend to go very far. Kolea, on the other hand, fly long distances from where they nest in Alaska to where they spend the winter here in Hawai’i. If you’ve ever flown on an airplane to the North American continent, you know that’s a long flight. Well, kolea fly it with their own wings and they don’t go as fast, so it takes longer.

The mynas find it all rather puzzling and strange.

A myna was picking worms and seeds alongside a kolea one day. The two of them were quiet most of the time, because by chance most of the myna’s other friends had had a big argument and flown off to continue it somewhere else. So it was just the two of them.

“I’ve always wanted to know,” said the myna to the kolea. “Why do you fly so far?”

The kolea thought about it. “I’m not sure anyone has asked me that before,” he said.

“Well, I’m asking,” said the myna.

“I do like the change,” said the kolea, “and I know that it gets awfully cold in Alaska during the winter.”

“Then why not stay here?” asked the myna.

“There are different things there,” said the kolea, “and it just feels right to raise chicks there.”

“Then why fly all the way here?” asked the myna. “What do you come here to see?’

The kolea was quiet for so long that the myna was about to ask the question again, but then the kolea spoke:

“I come to see different trees, trees that blossom red and purple and gold. I come to see soaring mountains crowned with snow when there’s green all around the island. I come to see waterfalls that make rainbows. I come to see mountains with fire and beaches with black sand.

“I come to see birds that also live in Alaska, like ‘akekeke, and birds that don’t live in Alaska, like ‘apapane and nene and saffron finches.

“I don’t think I’d appreciated, though, that I also come to see mynas, and to be asked questions I was never asked. The next time I fly to Hawai’i, I’ll be coming to see you.”

“I’m glad,” said the myna. “Next time you fly from Alaska, I’ll be very glad to see you.”

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories in advance, but I tell them from memory (and inspiration). The story you have just read is not identical to the story as I told it.

Photo of a myna (on left) and a kolea (on right) by Eric Anderson.

I’ve Got to Know

A mosaic of a bearded figure with a halo behind bars, flanked by armed men.

“When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?'” – Matthew 11:2-3

John, there you are, imprisoned by a king
whom you had castigated for a sexual misdeed
and took it badly. Beyond the stony walls,
you hear, another speaks your word: “Repent!”

“The realm of God is near!”

You know this one. You baptized him despite
your protests that he should have baptized you.
The water has flowed on beneath the bridge,
incarcerating you and prompting him to speak:

“The realm of God is near!”

I’m with you, John, if not behind those iron bars,
I’m with you in the need to know: “Are you the One?”…
and I believe he is the One, and preach that faith as truth!
There is no faith without anxiety, for me as well as you.

“The realm of God is near!”

You said, “I’ve got to know,” and John, I hope you knew
to hear about the healing and the good news for the poor.
It’s what I hang my hope on, and my faith,
and why I trust in God’s eternal love.

“The realm of God is near!”

You know, I hope, wherever you may be today
your faith and hope and trust moved in the world
alive and powerful and merciful. And I will trust,
like you, that our Anointed One still lives.

“The realm of God is near!”

A poem/prayer based on Matthew 11:2-11, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year A, Third Sunday of Advent.

The image is The Imprisonment of John the Baptist, one of the mosaics in the Baptistery of Saint John, Florence, Italy, unknown artist (early 1300s). Photo by Sailko – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41892074.

Birds of 2025

I’m a neophyte birder. I give credit for prescience to former Connecticut Conference Minister the Rev. Dr. Davida Foy Crabtree, who gave me Hawaii’s Birds (Audobon, 1997) as I was moving to Hilo. As I’ve said elsewhere, I began learning about local birds in order to tell stories during worship services. Most of the creatures that I grew up learning and knowing about simply don’t live here. On an island with very few native mammals, I turned to birds as the inspiration and characters for these stories. Many of those stories are archived here.

It was only last year that I began formally recording bird sightings through a service of the Cornell Lab of Ornithology called eBird. In 2025 I completed 43 checklists, attaching photos to twelve of them. I took 1,191 photos and 107 videos that I’d be willing to show somebody else. The sightings covered 45 species on three of the Hawaiian Islands and in Connecticut.

That’s not a lot of species for a serious birder, but that’s a part of living in Hawai’i. It is a lot of photo and video material. As the end of the year approached, I realized that I had more bird material than I could include in my annual “A Year” video. The result is the video above, featuring some of the birds I saw and photographed in 2025.

Some of my favorite photos are, of course, in the video, but here they are in a gallery as well.

Enjoy!

Photo Gallery: Birds of 2025

Story: The Best Flock

December 7, 2025

Isaiah 11:1-10
Matthew 3:1-12

An ‘apapane wanted to know what the best way to be a flock is.

There are plenty of examples if you journey around the island. He found an i’iwi, who said, “Keep it small, less than ten. And chase everybody else away. Speaking of which, ‘apapane, it’s time you got out of here!”

He checked with a myna, who said, “Oh, just get a few birds together.” “Yeah,” said a second myna, “but make sure they don’t argue.” “What do you mean by that?” demanded a third myna. “Don’t you get cross with me!” said the first, and the ‘apapane flew away as the mynas argued about… nothing.

The ‘akiapola’au, the ‘akepa, and the ‘amakihi said that it’s useful to join a flock because then some of the predators, like cats and such, get intimidated. “A good flock is one that keeps us safe,” they told him.

That sounded pretty good.

He looked in on the ‘akekeke, who said, “Just stay together!” He asked the kolea, who prefer to keep some distance from one another. He thought about asking some fish, but they weren’t coming to the surface to talk to any hovering birds.

It was the nene, however, who gave him the most to think about.

When he found a nene to talk to, they were gathered around one of their number who’d hurt her wing. The little group was hungry and rather footsore as they trooped along, looking for ‘ohelo berries (or pretty much anything they could eat).

“Why aren’t you flying?” he asked one of them.

“Because she can’t fly for a while,” said the one in front.

“Can’t you leave her while you go eat?” he said.

The nene looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“A good flock is one where nobody gets left behind,” the nene said.

The ‘apapane returned to his part of the forest, and gathered his friends and family and any other birds he could. Together they could find food and shelter. Together they could scare off some of the dangers. But most of all, he told them:

“A good flock is one where nobody gets left behind.”

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories ahead of time, but I tell them from memory plus inspiration. As a result, the recording of how I told it does not match how I wrote it.

Photo of four nene by Eric Anderson.

Shoot of Jesse

A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
    and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

Isaiah 11:1-2

I hate to break it to you, Isaiah.
But then, perhaps you know already.
You saw it, after all, in Hezekiah,
who trusted in the word of God
and watched the army of Assyria
retreat from Jerusalem’s walls,
but then succumbed to royal pride
and showed his wealth to greedy eyes.

These shoots of Jesse had their moments, true,
the worst had flashes of your wisdom. But
they let the widows cry for justice,
let the orphans cry for food, while they
enriched the wealthy, fed the full.
The best of them, like Hezekiah, fell
afoul of hubris like their ancestors before.

And then, Isaiah, came a child anointed
by the Holy Spirit, who embraced your words,
declared they’d been fulfilled, and best of all
with mercy, stories, grace, and healing brought
them to fulfillment. You would have cheered
to see this shoot of Jesse blossom and bear fruit.

You would have cheered to see the fishermen,
the shepherds and the farmers, even tax
collectors, daughters of Jerusalem,
embark on journeys up and down the land
to seek his healing and his word.

They cheered to see the lepers cleansed.
They told his stories to their neighbors with
excitement and enthusiasm. They affirmed
a humble man from Galilee as Christ.

They could not save him, though, Isaiah,
from the fear and might of powerful men.
They seized him and they beat him.

They called him rebel, and they nailed him to a tree,
and jeered to see him suffer there and die.

Isaiah, human folly is enough to break your heart.

A poem/prayer based on Isaiah 11:1-10, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year A, Second Sunday of Advent.

Photo of a fern shoot by Eric Anderson.

Story: Caterpillar’s Hope

An orange and black butterfly resting on a fern leaf.

November 30, 2025

Isaiah 2:1-5
Romans 13:11-14

Caterpillars don’t have the easiest life. They don’t get around very much – but then, when you move mostly to find another leaf to eat, you don’t need to move very far. There are things about that, while you’re eating leaves, would be very happy to eat you, and that makes for more than a few anxious moments. A lot of the birds I happily tell stories about would happily eat a caterpillar, and that makes them rather sad.

Caterpillars are among the most hopeful creatures on Earth, however. Each one of them hopes to go from an animal that crawls slowly across the branches to one that flies through the skies. They hope to go from someone that you hope will be overlooked (and so not eaten) to one that glows brightly in the sunlight. They hope that the beauty they feel on the inside will be mirrored on the outside.

What’s amazing is that that’s what happens.

Two caterpillars were sharing their hopes on a branch one day between bites of leaf. I’m going to leave out the biting and chewing, because it actually took more time than the conversation. Caterpillars are serious about eating.

“I’m really looking forward to being a butterfly,” said the first.

“Me, too,” said the second.

“I can’t wait to fly,” said the first.

“Me, too,” said the second.

“I’d like to see more of the world than this flower patch,” said the first.

“It’s a good patch,” said the second.

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” said the first.

“You’re right, though,” said the second. “It would be nice to visit another one.”

“All we’ve got to do,” said the first caterpillar, “is wait.”

“Just wait?” asked the second.

“Just wait,” said the first.

“That doesn’t’ sound right,” said the second. “I think we’ve got to build a chrysalis, and stay in it, and then come out as butterflies.”

“Don’t be silly,” said the first. “You hope for it, and then it happens.”

“I don’t think so,” said the second. “I think you hope for it, and then you do something about it. And then it can happen.”

I don’t know what happened to the first caterpillar. I hope it made a chrysalis and became a butterfly, because the second caterpillar was quite right. Caterpillars become butterflies in the chrysalis. They’ve got to make things happen to make other things happen.

Dream of better days. Hope for them, and believe they can come to be. But don’t forget to do the work for them. Hope is good, but hope and effort are better.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories ahead of time, but I tell them on Sunday from memory plus inspiration. The story you just read will not be identical to the story as I told it.

Photo of a monarch butterfly by Eric Anderson.

Let Us Go Up to the Mountain


“Many peoples shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.'” – Isaiah 2:3

A mountaintop is the House of God,
a place of mystery.

A mountaintop lacks human homes,
for it is foreign ground.

A mountaintop is a solid thing, we think,
until it flows.

A mountaintop can teach us anything
we wish to learn.

A mountaintop can teach us truth unless
we’d rather hold our lies.

The liquid stone flows down the mountainside
passing people flowing up.

The mountain’s fluid flanks sweep our
pretense away.

And then the lava hardens into rock
like human hearts

Who fail to learn the truth that swords and spears
mean nothing

And the truth that plows and pruning hooks
mean everything.

A mountaintop can teach us truth unless
we’d rather hold our lies.

A poem/prayer based on Isaiah 2:1-5, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year A, First Sunday of Advent.

Photo of the Kilauea summit by Eric Anderson.