I need your help. I wrote 5 Monologues based on the Passion narrative in Mark a couple of years ago. They were called "Unnamed Witnesses to the Passion." I also wrote 6 Monologues based on the Passion story from John. I would like to get them published, but I don't have any ideas. If you do, please pass them along. As well, I'd like feedback. Here is one of the Unnamed Witnesses to the Passion:
The young man who ran away
One thing I remember is how dark it was that night, how really dark it was. It seemed like the night was a good place to hide while I was watching, the whole time watching from a little distance. I want you to know that I had been following Jesus for awhile before this. I wasn't just watching because I knew something bad was about to happen. I'm not one of those people who is just waiting for tragedies to happen so that I can watch. No -- I had been "hanging around" for awhile and listening to Jesus teach and watching him heal -- but it is safe to say that I wasn't one of the main disciples. I followed, but from a distance. That's me -- I like to follow, but from a distance. I don't want to get too close. I just had the feeling that there was something dangerous about Jesus -- and you know, I was right.
The thing I remember most about Jesus is that when I heard him preach, it always seemed like he was talking straight to me, like he knew me. He knew just what I was hoping for, and just what I was afraid of -- what made me hesitate. This is what drew me to him, but it's also what help me back. He made me feel vulnerable, exposed, like there was no place I could hide. I always followed at a distance, wanting to hear but not wanting to get too involved. So there I was, on the night he was betrayed, watching and listening just like I always did, except this time, somehow I ended up just a little too close to the action. I saw everything -- I saw the prayer he prayed and how everyone fell asleep. I saw how lonely he was, in the dark. I saw Judas coming toward him, and I saw the soldiers descending on him like he was going to fight back. I mean, the disciples weren't an army. There were a couple of fighters in the bunch, but mostly they were fishermen. I just seemed so incredible. They were treating him like he was a criminal. And then I felt a hand and I knew that I had gotten a little too close this time, and I ran away. Just like all the others. My heart was beating wildly, I was so scared -- scared of being caught, but also scared of being so close, so close to the action. And I ran away so fast that it didn't even matter to me that I lost my clothes. I was naked -- running away in the dark -- running for my life.
Jesus was dangerous -- everyone was right about that. In fact, He still is. I almost died that night -- me, who doesn't like to get involved. I'm the one who likes to play it safe. And there I was, in the middle of things before I knew it. And there I was, vulnerable and exposed, just what I didn't want to be -- ever. That's the way it is with Jesus. He doesn't allow you to sit on the sidelines. Before you know it, you are right in the middle of something. Anyway, that's the way it has been for me -- ever since that night. Ever since I stopped running away. Ever since I started following him.
Oh, I feel like running away sometimes, still. Life isn't easy, you know. But it's useless. I can't help it. I start listening again, and it seems like he is talking to me, and he knows all my hopes and all my fears, and my heart is beating wildly again. just like that night. That's how I know he's dangerous. And that's how I know he's alive -- and so am I.