| Biographical Non-Fiction posted June 20, 2023 |
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Contest entry
Jesus Missed His Cue
by DragonSkulls
Many years ago, when I still had a full head of hair, our preacher picked me to play Jesus for the church's Easter extravaganza. I was the only male member of the congregation that actually had long hair. And what was I going to tell our pastor, "No?"
I really didn't want to because I was slightly overweight and I'd have to be shirtless for a bit. Jesus didn't have a protruding gut, after forty days of fasting, as far as I knew. My wife had no problem offering up my services though. Even if I had the gall to tell him no, her big mouth overruled my decision. So I was going be Jesus.
They had a big ordeal going. First, the service, then this whole thing with the choir and then a 'everyone bring something to eat' meal afterwards. I thought it was funny, the preacher wanted me to bring my, and I quote, "Mashed potato salad," as he chuckled. So yeah, I squish the potatoes rather than having huge chunks, so sue me.
It took a couple weeks to build the stage for the show. They built this screen wall that would be behind the choir. It was fine, dark screen that you couldn't see through unless there was light shining behind it. That was to be where I played my role.
Easter morning, everything was set up and rehearsed so it would all go gracefully smooth. Every pew was filled with even some standing in the back. Our little, country church wasn't that gigantic and it was stuffed full Easter morning.
The pastor did his thing and then it was time for the show. During the second song the choir sang, I really don't remember which hymn, there was mention of the crucifixion. The light-man turned up the lamps and there I was, nailed to the cross as everyone looked on. It was perfect. I was balanced with my feet crossed, leaning back on the slightly tilted cross. I had fake nails in my wrists and feet, the crown of thorns atop my head and lots of fake blood splattered all over my body and face. With my head hanging limp, I'm sure it looked nearly close to our precious savior's real death.
The lights went down and I had to get busy. Me and the light-man had to take down the cross and set up for the next showing. Two songs later, again I don't remember the hymn, there would be mention of our savior's resurrection and the lights behind the screen would go up with me standing there. This time I was going to be cleansed and there in a perfect, flawless robe, smiling with my hands stretched out invitingly, with a bright light directly behind me to instill the audience with awe.
Here's what happened though. The fake blood turned out to be a lot harder to clean off than expected. We figured a quick rinsing and it'd be gone. Nope. I had to scrub that crap off.
At the point of the song that said Jesus had risen, the director and every choir member turned and motioned toward the screen like, 'look up there.' Regrettably, I wasn't there. They all just motioned to the dark screen behind them.
Luckily there was at least a cross up there on the top of the screen rather than a complete nothing.
The choir was on the last song when I finally got the red goop off of my face and hands. I threw the robe on and ran up and stood on the little podium thingie. Thank God the last song also mentioned the resurrection. I practically whisper yelled at the poor light-man, "Turn the lights up! Turn them up NOW! He hesitated and I raised my hands like 'Get with the program.' "TURN THE LIGHTS UP!"
It was perfect timing. The whole congregation cheered. The director turned around, saw me standing there, and smiled, knowing I still managed to save the show even though Jesus had missed his cue.
I really didn't want to because I was slightly overweight and I'd have to be shirtless for a bit. Jesus didn't have a protruding gut, after forty days of fasting, as far as I knew. My wife had no problem offering up my services though. Even if I had the gall to tell him no, her big mouth overruled my decision. So I was going be Jesus.
They had a big ordeal going. First, the service, then this whole thing with the choir and then a 'everyone bring something to eat' meal afterwards. I thought it was funny, the preacher wanted me to bring my, and I quote, "Mashed potato salad," as he chuckled. So yeah, I squish the potatoes rather than having huge chunks, so sue me.
It took a couple weeks to build the stage for the show. They built this screen wall that would be behind the choir. It was fine, dark screen that you couldn't see through unless there was light shining behind it. That was to be where I played my role.
Easter morning, everything was set up and rehearsed so it would all go gracefully smooth. Every pew was filled with even some standing in the back. Our little, country church wasn't that gigantic and it was stuffed full Easter morning.
The pastor did his thing and then it was time for the show. During the second song the choir sang, I really don't remember which hymn, there was mention of the crucifixion. The light-man turned up the lamps and there I was, nailed to the cross as everyone looked on. It was perfect. I was balanced with my feet crossed, leaning back on the slightly tilted cross. I had fake nails in my wrists and feet, the crown of thorns atop my head and lots of fake blood splattered all over my body and face. With my head hanging limp, I'm sure it looked nearly close to our precious savior's real death.
The lights went down and I had to get busy. Me and the light-man had to take down the cross and set up for the next showing. Two songs later, again I don't remember the hymn, there would be mention of our savior's resurrection and the lights behind the screen would go up with me standing there. This time I was going to be cleansed and there in a perfect, flawless robe, smiling with my hands stretched out invitingly, with a bright light directly behind me to instill the audience with awe.
Here's what happened though. The fake blood turned out to be a lot harder to clean off than expected. We figured a quick rinsing and it'd be gone. Nope. I had to scrub that crap off.
At the point of the song that said Jesus had risen, the director and every choir member turned and motioned toward the screen like, 'look up there.' Regrettably, I wasn't there. They all just motioned to the dark screen behind them.
Luckily there was at least a cross up there on the top of the screen rather than a complete nothing.
The choir was on the last song when I finally got the red goop off of my face and hands. I threw the robe on and ran up and stood on the little podium thingie. Thank God the last song also mentioned the resurrection. I practically whisper yelled at the poor light-man, "Turn the lights up! Turn them up NOW! He hesitated and I raised my hands like 'Get with the program.' "TURN THE LIGHTS UP!"
It was perfect timing. The whole congregation cheered. The director turned around, saw me standing there, and smiled, knowing I still managed to save the show even though Jesus had missed his cue.
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