Now when all the people were baptized and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. – Luke 3:21-22a
The water gently swirled about their legs as John and Jesus stepped into the stream, the echoes of John’s fierceness still perceivable in those who stood upon the bank, and those who dripped the water of forgiveness.
The water may be gentle, but the fire promised by the Baptist came descending. Like a dove, indeed, but doves are sharp of claw and though they promise coming home they promise nothing gentle on the way.
The river’s soft embrace receded, puddling on the riverbank. The Holy Spirit’s fire ignited in the eyes beneath the water-speckled lashes. The one who had, with hardly any word, descended peacefully, has risen purposefully.
Was there a word for John? Who knows. Perhaps a hand to brush the drying skin which shortly would be washed again with washing someone else. The fire drove him from the water to the wilderness.
O Gentle Spirit, how do humans dare to call You gentle, source of prophets’ words, apostles’ energy, and martyrs’ blood? Indeed the Baptist said it true, that though he washed with water, You baptize your followers with fire.
A poem/prayer based on Luke 3:15-17, 21-22, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Baptism of the Lord.
I wrote this skit to meet a very particular need. Our Sunday School coordinator had surveyed the young people, and nobody (really nobody) wanted to play Joseph. Could I write a pageant that didn’t include Joseph? The result is what’s below.
We didn’t have any children who wanted to play the magi, either, so the original script didn’t include them. As rehearsals began, more of them wanted to participate, and so the size of the shepherd’s flock increased, a second shepherd got lines, and so did more of the magi.
By Eric Anderson
CHARACTERS
Mary: A young woman Gabriel: An angelic messenger Angels: A musical chorus Star: A bright object in the sky Shepherd: A tender of sheep Sheep: A wooly creature Magi 1: A scholar dressed a lot like a king Magi 2: Another scholar dressed a lot like a king (non-speaking) Magi 3: One more scholar dressed a lot like a king (non-speaking)
SCENE 1: [MARY enters and sits at center stage, twiddling her thumbs]
Mary: I’m bored.
[GABRIEL enters]
Gabriel: Hail, O favored one!
Mary: (to audience) Well, this might be more interesting.
(to Gabriel) Who are you, and what kind of “Hello” is that?
Gabriel: What would you prefer?
Mary: “Hello” would be nice.
Gabriel: In that case, hello. My name is Gabriel. I’m an angel. Do not be afraid!
Mary: Was I supposed to be afraid?
Gabriel: It’s not required. I’m supposed to say that, though.
Mary: Are other people afraid?
Gabriel: People tend to get nervous talking to an angel, yes.
Mary: Oh, right. You’re an angel. You said. Well, I’m glad to talk to anybody. I’m bored.
Gabriel: Why are you bored?
Mary: I’m supposed to be getting married soon, but my family is doing all the wedding plans. Every time I try to suggest something, my father or my mother will say, “Oh, no, it’s better this way.” Actually, they both say it. Then they disagree about what the best way is, and send me out of the room. So I don’t have a lot to do.
Gabriel: Couldn’t you talk to your fiancé? What’s his name?
Mary: Joseph. And no. Now that we’re engaged, we don’t spend a lot of time together. He’s working. And I’m… not.
Gabriel: I think I can promise that your life is about to get more interesting.
Mary: Well, that’s good. What’s happening?
Gabriel: Mary, you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.
Mary: What did you just say?
Gabriel: Mary, you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb…
Mary: (interrupting) Did you just say I’m going to have a baby?
Gabriel: Yes. Yes, I did.
Mary: How is that going to happen?
Gabriel: Nothing is impossible with God.
Mary: And this is God’s plan? It seems a little… unexpected.
Gabriel: I grant you that God hasn’t done this before.
Mary: And I’m having this baby… why?
Gabriel: He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David…
Mary: (interrupting) Did you just say I’m going to be the mother of the Messiah?
Gabriel: Yes. Yes, I did.
Mary: Wow.
Gabriel: You did say you were bored.
Mary: Yes. Yes, I did.
Gabriel: Are you less bored?
Mary: Now I’m terrified.
Gabriel: That’s not bored.
Mary: I think I need to go talk to Joseph. He’ll want to know.
Gabriel: I’m sure that’s true. Where is Joseph, anyway?
Mary: This way.
[MARY and GABRIEL exit]
Narrator: Nine months later…
Scene 2:
[SHEPHERD and SHEEP enter]
Shepherd: Well, another boring night.
Sheep: Baa!
Shepherd: Why don’t you ever seem to sleep, sheep?
Sheep: Baa!
Shepherd: Have you ever thought of counting sheep, sheep?
Sheep: Baa!
[pause]
Shepherd: Well, I agree. Counting to one isn’t all that helpful.
[ANGELS enter]
Angels: Hallelujah!
Shepherd: What?
Angels: Hallelujah!
Shepherd: Are you hearing what I’m hearing, sheep?
Sheep: Baa!
[GABRIEL enters]
Gabriel: Do not be afraid!
Shepherd: OK.
Sheep: Baa!
Gabriel: I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.
Shepherd: Could you repeat that?
Sheep: Baa!
Gabriel: I am bringing you good news…
Shepherd: Did you just say that the Messiah has been born down in Bethlehem?
Gabriel: That’s exactly what I said.
Shepherd: And we can go see him?
Gabriel: You can do exactly that.
Shepherd: And greet the father and the mother?
Gabriel: The mother for sure. The father, well, that’s a little tricky.
Shepherd: Are you going to explain that?
Gabriel: No.
Sheep: Baa!
Gabriel: Are you going to go visit the child?
Sheep: Baa!
Shepherd: You heard him.
Angels and Gabriel: Hallelujah!
Scene Three:
[ANGELS, GABRIEL, SHEPHERD, and SHEEP exit]
[MARY enters with BABY]
[GABRIEL enters]
Gabriel: Where’s Joseph?
Mary: He went looking around the town for baby things. We hadn’t brought anything. All we’ve got are these bands of cloth and a manger.
Gabriel: That’s going to be tricky this late at night.
Mary: Everything has been tricky. Explaining my pregnancy to my family, my friends, and to Joseph was tricky. Then getting summoned down to Bethlehem for the census was tricky. Then finding a place to stay the night was tricky. Having a baby in a stable was tricky. All in all, it’s all been tricky.
Gabriel: Well, I’ve got good news.
Mary: I’m not sure I’m ready for more of your good news. That’s what’s got me here in a stable with a newborn.
Gabriel: You’ll like this one. I’ve brought some people to give thanks for the birth of the Messiah!
[ANGELS, SHEPHERD, and SHEEP enter]
Angels: Hallelujah!
Mary: More angels?
Sheep: Baa!
Mary: And sheep.
Shepherd: Hi! Are you the mother of the Messiah?
Mary: And a shepherd. Where’s Joseph? When’s he coming back?
Gabriel: I know this isn’t what you expected, Mary. This is no palace. It’s not even your own home. Or a house, in fact. But you know what a miracle this is. You know, better than anyone, that God has been at work. These are people…
Sheep: (interrupting) Baa!
Gabriel: …and creatures who have come to understand God’s miracle as well.
Angels: Hallelujah!
Mary: That is pretty wonderful, now that you put it like that.
[THREE MAGI ENTER]
Gabriel: And look! More visitors!
Mary: Couldn’t they have waited until Joseph got back?
Magi 1: Look, it’s been a long trip. And we got lost. So we stopped for directions in Jerusalem.
Mary: Jerusalem? Where the king is?
Magi 1: That’s the place. That’s where a new monarch should be born, right?
Mary: Gabriel, this sounds like trouble. The king is not going to be happy to hear about the birth of a Messiah. Would you go fetch Joseph, please?
Gabriel: Ah. You’re right. This is trouble. We’ll take care of it. No problem. You guys, magi, king-like people: Don’t go home via Jerusalem. OK?
Magi 1: Really? The king seemed to want to meet this child. A lot.
Mary: Seriously, where’s Joseph?
Gabriel: Go home another way.
Magi 1: Well, OK. You’re the angel. In the meantime, we’ve got some gifts for the child. Here they are: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
[EVERYBODY stares at the gifts]
Mary: Wow. Joseph needs to see this.
Gabriel: He will. And you won’t need to worry about your safety. Shepherds, creatures, wise people from far away have come to rejoice in this child. The heavens themselves are celebrating. Take a look:
[STAR enters]
Mary: Oh, wow.
Star: Welcome, newborn Messiah!
Mary: Where’s Joseph? He should see this.
Star: He’s three streets away on his way back. I’ll light the way for him.
Mary: Thank you. Thank you all. Thank you for welcoming my baby into the world.
Gabriel: We’re glad to do it. Happy Birthday, little Jesus!
John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?” – Luke 3:7
Who warned us, John? You did. We heard your words through others, much as those you called “a brood of vipers” heard your words through rapid rumor’s run.
We heard your warning through the memories and tongues and pens of those you had impressed with word, with deed, with baptism, with righteousness.
We heard because they passed along your warning that to wash with water would not cleanse the soul, but full repentance, all enacted, would receive the nod of God.
They came to hear themselves. They came to learn how they might change. They came to leave upon a road that might look like the one on which they had arrived, but was a road made new.
They came. They heard. They washed. They went away and told the tale. More came. More heard. More washed. More told. Soon one would come to wash though you would tell him, “No.”
You warned us, John, across the years. But tell me, we who follow him whom you baptized, have we been heedful of your warning? Do we bear the fruits of righteousness?
I fear, old harsh-voiced friend, that you would find us heedless of your words despite our claim to follow Christ. I fear you’d rail once more at broods of serpents writhing in the dust.
I fear it would not only be the ones I judge as frauds, or casual extortionists, or simply selfish souls withholding all their wealth,
But also me, secure in my self-righteousness, and satisfied with my reputed rectitude. What sins do I ignore, refuse to cleanse?
Shout on, old Baptist friend. Across the years, through others’ words I hear your call. Shout on, and by the grace of God may I repent, and wash, and bear good fruit.
A poem/prayer based on Luke 3:7-18, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year C, Third Sunday of Advent.
The image is John Preaching in the Desert, a mosaic in the series of the Life of John the Baptist in the Florence Baptistery, Florence, Italy (ca. 1225-1330). Photo by Sailko – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41892069.
“And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what really matters, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.” – Philippians 1:9-11
I am stripped down. I wait my fate. What will it be? Will it be gain? Will it be Christ? I will not choose, except, of course, that I have chosen by the words I’ve spoken, by the things I’ve done.
I am stripped down.
I have been stripped of agency. Another will decide my course. I’ve lived in faith that God has set my way, but set my way through me. A crueler hand now rests upon the tiller of my time. Does it grow short?
I am stripped down.
I struggle to bring influence, to speak good news, for few may hear me now. Is it hubris to believe that they who hold me in this place consider what I’ve said and turn their souls toward Christ?
I am stripped down.
Thank God Epaphroditus has recovered, though for him, like me, to die is gain. For Jesus and for me he’ll carry word to those I love that… well, that I love them from the heart. I am stripped down. What more to say?
Just that I love.
A poem/prayer based on Philippians 1:3-11, the Revised Common Lectionary Second Reading for Year C, Second Sunday of Advent.
“One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well he asked him, ‘Which commandment is the first of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The first is, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” The second is this, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.'” – Mark 12:28-31
The scribe approved your words, or so says Mark, and silenced all the snare-deploying crowd. Yet he might ask (and yes, in Luke he did) “Who is my neighbor to receive my love?”
Then you, Redeemer, might have said (though you did not, or so says Luke), “Look to the Book of Ruth, to what is written there: ‘I will not leave you. Do not press me.
“‘Where you journey, I will go. And where you stop, there I will take my rest. Your people shall be mine, and more: Your God shall be my God.'”
A poem/prayer based on Mark 12:28-34, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading, and Ruth 1:1-18, the First Reading, for Year B, Proper 26 (31).
“But Jesus said to them again, ‘Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.'” – Mark 10:24b-25
A camel, which is a beast with sense, will cast a jaundiced eye upon a needle’s eye if told that they’re to pass on through. At most, a knobby hoof may paw the ground.
Yet I engage in exercise of needle-passing almost every day, and have for one score years, and ten, and six, endeavoring to tell a story so it lifts a heart or redirects a mind.
A task for fools, I say, as those I teach nod sagely in agreement with my words, then go to do the opposite of what I’d said, and what they’d then approved,
Because, you know, though there’s a better way, the one we know is still the one we’ll do. We thank you for the wisdom of your words and hope the world one day works as you say.
If only it were only “they,” the ones to whom I speak! For it is also “Me,” the one I seek to govern by your guidance, Christ, the “I” who also cannot seem to follow you.
I would despair, save that some seeds I never thought would bloom have grown, have blossomed, borne sweet fruit as marginalized people claim their place and power where they once had none.
So take my challenge, camel. I will make my painful way through this so-tiny eye, and once we’re through, what visions might we see, what glory celebrate, in God’s sweet possibility.
A poem/prayer based on Mark 10:17-31, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 23 (28).
“As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things.” – Mark 6:34
Bring your compassion, Jesus, for our shepherds howl like wolves. They lay the rod of law with harshness on the poor and spare the ones in power.
Teach us, Jesus.
Bring your compassion, Jesus, for our shepherds carelessly use words that others hear, and hearing ponder. Pondering, they set themselves to violence.
Teach us, Jesus.
Bring your compassion, Jesus, for the shepherds cannot find the way that leads between our Scyllas and Charybdises, and lost, we founder in moral morass.
Teach us, Jesus.
Bring your compassion, Jesus, and teach us many things, like how the shepherd cares first for the sheep, whereas the predator consumes them.
Teach us, Jesus.
We are sheep without a shepherd. Teach us many things. And may we, by God’s grace, learn.
A poem/prayer based on Mark 6:30-34, 53-56, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 11 (16).
A poem/prayer based on Mark 5:21-43, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 8 (13).
The image is of the healing of the woman with the hemorrhage from theTrès Riches Heures du duc de Berry. Artwork by the Limbourg brothers (between 1411 and 1416) – Photo. R.M.N. / R.-G. Ojéda, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17443172.Somewhat unusually for images of this text, Jairus’ daughter is visible at right in the upper image.
Jesus bar-Yosef House with a hole in the roof Capernaum, Galilee
Dear sir:
In light of recent events which have damaged your public image, we offer our services as public relations consultants. We believe that we can increase your name recognition and your positive reputation.
To give you some idea of the value of our services, we would like to comment on two recent encounters that resulted in unnecessary conflict with significant public figures. You can evaluate our suggestions here and realize the benefits you would realize from a permanent business relationship with us.
We realize that your followers – or students; one of the things we’d like to clarify is their role in representing you and your ideas – were hungry while you were out walking with them that day. It is regrettable that they had not prepared for a trip. While we are not event planners, we recommend that you get some additional support to see that you are properly supplied.
The public relations concerns arose when they began to pluck grain on the sabbath. Everyone knows that the followers of a religious leader will be properly scrupulous about following the sabbath regulations. Indeed, a higher degree of respect for those practices is simply expected by the populace. In the moment, it would have gone much better if you had said, “Not now, friends. We don’t have far to go. There will be something to eat soon.”
You were walking just a short distance, weren’t you? We’re confident you were.
Alternatively, as noted above, you could have redirected them to use their pre-prepared foods. Best of all, you might have carried some yourself, and distributed those to your hungry followers. Imagine the positive responses to your generosity!
Then there was the man with the hand. We acknowledge that you actually broke no sabbath regulation at all. You didn’t anoint his hand with oil, which is permitted by most authorities. You didn’t even touch it.
Our concern is with your interaction with the other religious leaders in the room. Granted, they didn’t say anything to you. You might have interpreted that as consent, rather than challenging them for hardness of heart. You might also have said, “Let us see what miracles God will do on the sabbath,” which would have been very pious and quite successful.
Best of all, you could have said to the man, “Come see me tomorrow and we will see what God will do. Today we will rest, and God will rest.”
Frankly, Jesus, he’d been living with that hand for some time. One more day would not have been a burden.
These two events, and a couple of others, have generated some opposition to you and to your message. We firmly believe that you can move past them to a better, more productive relationship with the public at large and with your peers among the religious leadership. We think that some circumspection in some areas, and more emphasis of some elements of your teaching, will really resonate with the population. In short, we believe you have potential and hope to represent you.
The proposal in full is attached.
A poem/prayer based on Mark 2:23-3:6, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Proper 4 (9).
The image is Christ Heals the Man with a Paralyzed Hand, a mosaic in the Cathedral of Monreale, Sicily, Italy (late 12th – mid-13th cent.). Photo by Sibeaster – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4515630.
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