Andrew Wade living

Six Secular Reasons to Tithe

Six Secular Reasons to Tithe

For me, tithing consists of setting aside 1/10th of what I earn, to be given away for the benefit of others. While I am a Christian, the benefits of accepting a tithing mindset and habit are huge for anyone – regardless of spirituality – who chooses to take on this challenge.

Note: My definition of tithing includes using this 10% of earnings for non-reciprocal gifts, donations to charities, help for friends and strangers in need… whatever you feel is appropriate, which may include giving to religious institutions, but doesn’t need to.

Hunky-dory? Great. Onto the reasons:

Tithe Tenth Mormon
(Credit: More Good Foundation)

(1) Good Deeds

Let’s get the obvious one off the bat. By giving money to worthy causes and actions, you help make the world a better place than it was yesterday, and that is huge. Whether you’re helping education and health by deworming the world (http://www.dewormtheworld.org/), giving to a local shelter, or encouraging mentorship (http://www.bigbrothersbigsisters.ca), you’re making an impact.

(2) Budgeting

While the actual 10% figure isn’t too important, taking on this challenge requires taking note of your income and figuring out just what it is you’re actually earning. Also, it’s unlikely you’ll give exactly 10% of what you’re earning each month, or some opportunities might come up that require you to give a little more, so some numbers may carry over into the next month. Spreadsheets may be scary to some, but I personally find it a lot of fun (yes, fun) seeing one adjustment affect my next year’s worth of numbers. A skill well worth learning in case the public school system didn’t help you in this regard.

"Have you seen this man? He is Ant Hill H...
(Credit: Wikipedia)

(3) A Way to Forgive Thieves

If you’re like me, there is nothing that gets in your craw, that rankles you, that makes you downright peeved and pissed off so much as having something be stolen. The worst part of it all is that feeling of powerlessness, which can often devolve into a fear for one’s own security. It’s not hard to go from having a possession be stolen to adopting a mindset of distrust toward anyone you don’t know (or perhaps even toward people you do know). Which, as I’ve discussed before, is not a good way to live. But with a set tithing plan in place, I’m able to stick a mental trick on myself and choose to let the object that was stolen instead be a gift. If they’re resorting to pilfery, they probably need it more than I.

With this method, I then take the replacement cost off my tithing amount, so I’m not even short any money in my budget. It still sucks to have stuff get stolen, but I am now able to consider it a gift, forgive, replace, and move on, without my finances taking a hit.

Cover of "Pay it Forward"
Cover of Pay it Forward

(4) Karma / Pay It Forward

Alright, perhaps not an entirely non-spiritual reason, but plenty of people believe in a worldview where doing a good deed will come back around in the end. I don’t necessarily believe this concept, but I have respect for people who do.

(5) Encourages a Positive Perception of Money

It’s too easy in our society to become obsessed with the goal of obtaining money for security, or even hoarding money for money’s sake. Intentionally giving away money each month instead reminds us that money is just a tool to help us pursue other goals – not a goal in and of itself. Doing so also reminds us of what we hold to be more important in life. Don’t get me wrong – money is a fantastic tool, but that’s all it is.

(6) Encourages a Generous Mindset
Giving encourages more giving – a positive reinforcement loop that creates more generous individuals. Before I started tithing, I would often spend time debating the pros and cons of any behaviour or action before (possibly) making a decision. Since I’ve begun tithing, however, I find I am far more likely to freely offer aid to someone in need, without hesitation. It’s a far more fulfilling way to live.

I also find I am far more willing to accept and ask for aid from others, now that I know just how good it feels to be a giver. Generous minds build communities, neighbourhoods, friendships. Optimism. Happiness.

I encourage you to at least give tithing a trial for a few months, and open your eyes to all the opportunities to give and support the people around you, and around the world.

——————————

Passive Income Update:

As previously stated, I am on a plan to produce a monthly passive income of 80$ per month by the 1st of December. I have decided that I will let this goal include any passive income stream I create in that span, rather than have it need to come all from one source.

GOAL: 80$ per month.

PROGRESS: 7.16$ more in passive income per month due to moving cash from a low-earnings savings account to a higher earnings situation.

STILL TO GO: 72.84$ per month.

——————————

Thanks for reading.

Cheers,
Andrew Wade

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The Lie of ‘Never change who you are.’

The Lie of ‘Never change who you are.’

Protean Personality
Protean Personality (Photo: FeatheredTar)

One of the core, central beliefs by which I live is this: that all human beings are malleable. That I, and all of us, are capable of change, of growth, and of discovery, of making fundamental shifts in our worldview and in how we relate to others and ourselves. I’m a junkie for self-help books, websites, and audioguides ranging from C. S. Lewis’s Christian conundrums to Marc and Angel’s motivational posts to Morty Lefkoe’s limiting beliefs to Steve Pavlina‘s open discussions on everything from worklife to domination-submission. To anyone with an eye for how a person can improve.

In my own, personal story (elaborated on more substantially here), the single most important moment in my life was a time when I was in church, ten years old, with tear-filled eyes, my head down at my knees. At that time, I said to God, ‘I don’t like who I am. Help me become someone else, someone better.’ After that day, I looked to the people around me and observed what I admired about them, then sought to instill those values within myself. Courage. Humour. Honesty. Openness. Community-mindedness. Counsel. Extroverted exuberance.

When I tell this story to people – my origin story, essentially – the most common reaction I receive is this:

‘Well, you shouldn’t ever have to change who you are.’

Bullshit.

(If you know me in person, you know it’s exceedingly unusual for me to use such strong language. If you don’t know me and don’t consider this word as ‘strong language’, please replace it with a suitably surprisingly bold word of your choosing.)

Don’t change? Bullshit. I say, change who you are. Constantly. Discover the very core qualities that make you, you, and on a deep, gut level, grok them, understand them, and then decide whether or not you want them as a foundation for who you are. Reevaluate. Over and over again. Everything from how often you smile and laugh, to how you spend your time waiting in grocery line-ups, to what you believe is fundamentally true about human beings, to how you interact with strangers, to what makes you afraid, to how honest you are, to whether or not you’re as good a friend, lover or acquaintance as you could be… constantly identify ways to grow, prune, build, and level. Then do it. Change.

Be the Change

It’s not surprising I entered the world of theatre. Here, I can wear the skins of people with different intentions, worldviews, tempos, and rhythms to my own. Sometimes while exploring a character I’ll find an aspect of them that satiates me on a deep, gut-level – a whole-body grokking – and decide to try to hold onto that aspect for myself. Iago (see here, here, here, and here) helped me explore the intensely gratifying thrill of untethered ambition. As Donald (The Boys In The Band), I discovered the honest love behind unconditional loyalty. As William (William vs The World), I spelunked into the dark world of how a person can use self-delusion to shield oneself from loneliness, and into the desperation that kicks in when those illusions disappear. Malvolio (see here, here, here, and here) taught me how to use heartbreak as a powerful driving force, and performing improv taught me to trust not only my own gut instincts, but also those of whomever with whom I am sharing a moment. Over and over again theatre has helped me continue to shape and mold the very nature of who I am, cutting into the marble, adding slops of wet clay, drilling and firing and smelting and blooming.

One of my other core beliefs is this: I respect anyone who is trying to better themselves, be they an addict, my mother or even a former serial killer. We can all be better than who we are; we are all works in progress, always. That doesn’t mean we are not good, honest, eager, excellent people in the here and now. What it means is that we’re human. Malleable. Full of hope and opportunity.

Whether you want to or not, we all change. It happens. No one remains the exact same person throughout the course of their life, or heck, throughout the course of a year, or a month. What we can do, however, by admitting our protean possibilities, is direct that change for the better, be that through eliminating beliefs that are hindering, through shifting your perspective of yourself and of the world, through adopting new practices and personality goals such as honesty and openness, or through pursuing an innumerable other opportunities to grow, weed, cut, feed, nurture, and breathe.

There are many reasons someone might tell you to never change who you are. Perhaps they’re worried you don’t feel self-worth in who you currently are. Perhaps they worry you’ll trip up somewhere along your personal journey and get lost. Perhaps they’re afraid you’ll become someone other than their expectations of you. Perhaps they worry you’ll leave them behind. Perhaps it’s just their way of saying ‘I love you for who you are now.’ But I would add to each of these that anyone who tells you to never change who you are, refuses to see how amazing-brilliant-marvelous your future self will be.

Keep consciously changing,
Andrew Wade

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My Alternate Timeline Suicide

My Alternate Timeline Suicide

On December 23rd, Joe Bodolai, known as a former Kids In The Hall and SNL writer, posted his suicide note online, a lengthy and funny summary on his life, his regrets, and what he’s proud of. A love note to the people who cared for him.

“I need to feel the good that I did and whatever good I have ever done for you is enough for me. May you all have the happy lives you deserve. Thank you all for being in my life.”

The whole thing can be found here: http://qualityshows.wordpress.com/2011/12/23/if-this-were-y0ur-last-day-alive-what-would-you-do/ .

Suicide is a hard topic, particularly for me. I have been blessed in my life that, thus far, no one close to me has died. A couple of elderly relatives have passed on, but I had honestly only ever seen them less than a half-dozen times in my life. So death and me, we have yet to butt heads. Which will be an interesting, powerful, and potentially destructive spiritual battle when that occurs. But I know to count my blessings.

Joe Bodolai

Allow me to set the scene. I am a ten year old boy entering church on Sunday morning with my family. I am miserable. Daily. My family are great, but I spend every recess wandering the lot alone, planning escape route scenarios in case that kid decides to pick a fight with me, or envisioning scenes of taunts and teasing. Occasionally imagining what it would be like to be popular.

I wasn’t actually bullied much. But in my head, I felt like the schoolyard, the world, was a hostile force surrounding me, judging me. And I knew, in my heart, that when the inevitable confrontation came… I was a coward. I would run.

So there I am, sitting in church beside my mother. The pastor begins the community prayer. We all bow our heads and close our eyes. He begins, thanking God for all that we have, then opens the prayer to the congregation. An elderly woman stands up and asks for healing for her friend who is in the hospital with cancer. A man stands up and asks for prayer for his wife. I fold over further, burying my face into my hands, between my knees, crush my eyes closed even harder, deciding whether or not to stand up on my chair and ask the community to pray for me. To help me. Tears.

I didn’t stand up. But I did beg God to help me. To change me. To help me change myself into a person I could stand. To stop being such a coward. Wimp. Utterly introverted. To stop being miserable.

That was my moment of transformation. I took stock of who I was and decided I didn’t lke that person. And from then on, I have looked for ways to improve myself, from running to Late French Immersion (and thus, a different elementary school), to – on my first day of late french immersion in grade six – the brave decision to go up to the other boy with no one to talk to and start a conversation. Took all my muster. Became my best friend for two years. To joining rugby in grade eight. To diving headfirst into theatre and other avenues to find an extroverted nature (which I admittedly took too far in high school).

What does this have to do with suicide? Because if I hadn’t had God there, if I hadn’t had a wonderful family, if I HAD been bullied more… without that one moment in my life, I could easily have seen myself, a few more years down the line, as a 14-year-old suicide. Certainly within the realm of possibility. If there are alternate timelines, then there’s at least one of them out there without me in it anymore.

One of the biggest reasons I joined Peer Helping was because the POSSIBILITY existed that I might be able to help someone step away from the edge.

Now, I’m not saying people should be denied that free will decision to end their life in situations of great, increasing, and unending physical pain. But emotional pain… can be overcome. Can be conquered. It can get better. The world is a bounteous and beautiful place and we have so many opportunities to make it better for the people around us.

At the tail end of my time at UVic, I made a movement piece on the subject, approaching one of suicide’s darkest corners – someone who feels they are destroying their loved ones around them. Who feels their death will better the world for not having them in it.

Some more part of my inspiration for building that piece came from this audio clip – the last message someone left before ending their life:

 

Makes me quiver, tear up every time.

In this timeline, in this life, I am so very grateful that I am surrounded by so many marvelous and wonderful people. So glad that I feel deep down that I can be a positive force in this world.

So hopeful that you feel the same.

Cheers,
Andrew Wade

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Why you should write a One Man Show

Posters, with cactus underneath.

This is a rebuttal to a prior post I made a few days ago, named “Why Not to Do a One Man Show”, which I wrote as I heading in to the UFV Directors’ Festival. Well, it’s sort of a rebuttal, anyway.

——————–

Why you should write a One Man Show.

This past weekend (well, four days) has been incredible. Inspiring. I have learned so much from these people, not just about theatre, but about life off the coast, about why people are drawn to the stage.

The UFV theatre department is a strange creature. Students can’t get a degree in the subject – which leads to more than a few ‘English’ students (quotation marks highly emphasized by those involved). Even for a major in theatre requires traversing the two UFV campuses in Abbotsford and Chilliwack, as Abbotsford holds the theatre history courses, while Chilliwack attempts to contain the theatre itself. There is so much talent, desire, and drive here.

Erica

From the other schools as well. My second-hand thoughts about SFU’s theatre department must be sorely out of date, because they put on amazing performances. Same with Capilano. Same with the the lone alumni from VIU. Same with the marvelous people from TRU. Everyone put their hearts and souls into these performances.

Me and my doppleganger, Adam Kozlick

It’s amazing the difference between chatting with someone in the lobby before a show, and chatting with them after you’ve seen them act. We see so much of a person’s soul onstage, it seems.

Once I’ve seen you perform, and you’ve seen me perform, there’s no need to work for a connection – it’s already there. A mutual respect. A view into each other. These festivals weave us together far better than simple conversations ever could.

With a one man show, I don’t travel with a blank slate. Well, not after the first performance. Because after that performance, you’ve seen enough of me to feel comfortable saying hello, perhaps establishing a conversation with a compliment.

And once I’ve seen you perform, I’m not that fellow sitting across from the woman with violet hair on the bus – that first step of a connection has already been made. I already have respect for you and the passion you bring to your art.

Tila

I am so… proud… of the connections I have made this weekend, be they the married woman I held deeply enjoyable conversations with, the married couple (Christine and Sharkie) who remind me of all the best elements of PAX, the reflected kudos with countless fellow theatre practitioners (including the somewhat intimidating tall man from the opening ceremony), the possibility of a collaboration with my talented doppleganger (Adam), the producer who is setting up a festival in Nanaimo (Jeremy), the excited blossoming young actor who has just decided this is what he wants to pursue in his life (Ben), and the charming and eager people who promised me they’d get in touch if they happened to be in the same town I was in the future (and vis-versa).

Ali Shewan and I'm-bad-with-names

I don’t regret coming at all – instead, I regret leaving. I want to play with these amazing people for years to come. But I can’t. From rise to (far too little) sleep, for four days, I have lived and breathed theatre in this city. And now I go. There is a twinge of tragedy to it all.

Is this what Fringe is like, in every city? So many beginnings, so quick to die out unless facebook and travel plans feed them?

But I don’t want to mope like Charlie Brown about this experience. (Oh, and by the way? UFV’s Dog Sees God – second best show of the festival, and the capstone of my weekend. I’ll give top marks to UFV’s completely self-created ‘The Play’s The Thing’, which begins as a fake technical rehearsal for an awful Hamlet production, then splits the audience into two separate groups that tour around the whole building, listening in on interweaving subplots between the actors and crew during a ‘break’… subplots that resemble Othello and Romeo and Juliet for one group, and As You Like It (or Twelfth Night?) and Macbeth for the half of the audience (the side I missed, sadly)… brilliant stuff. Even the actors were amazed they pulled it off, with side-characters quietly conversing on cellphones to keep everyone cued up and on target to ‘happen’ to walk past each group at the right moments in time.)

That was far too many words to go into tangential parentheses.

The Lobby!

As for my show? I don’t know if I have ever had to wait on so many laughs in a performance I’ve done. And with so many people asking me where I’m taking this show next… that’s something I should seriously consider.

The Talented Dylan Coulter
Frisbee Golfing between shows

I originally chose to bring William Fights The World here because it was what I had in my back pocket, and it was a show I was excited to put together. Well, I love this show now, more than ever, and I want to perform it again. And again. And again.

And that is why you should create a one man show. Because with most shows, there is a bittersweet closing night when you know you and your cast of a dozen other actors, or perhaps only four… will never be able to put this show on again.

But I don’t need to say goodbye to William. Hell, I could put the show on right now, in this room, if I had a drizzle of coffee and an energy drink (the consumable props). Twelfth Night will never happen again, but William can rant and rave for years to come.

(Hrmm… I said ‘Hell’ there, instead of ‘Heck’. William is causing my language to falter somewhat when it comes to swear words.)

Well, I can’t make exactly the same show. I’ll never have quite this audience (incredibly supportive as they were), and I’ll need to use a new Chuck the cactus.

Sadly, in our third and final performance at the Festival, his shake-fall to the ground became fatal. Rest in peace, Chuck.

R.I.P. Chuck.

Fortunately, I bought an understudy. And epoxy, in case Chuck broke apart every show. I like to be prepared.

Chuck's Understudy, at his post on a chair at my lobby display

So yes, write a one man show, so you can travel to festivals and build mutual respect for all these amazing artists and audience members. Write a one man show so that the show never needs to die due to cast members moving away.

But know that travelling to a city for a few scant days means creating a whole lot of beginnings, and hoping, wishing, praying that perhaps one or two of those beginnings will grow and prosper. It means planting a whole field of seeds in every city, and hoping for one – even just one – tree to emerge. But the soil is rich, and if I could stick around to water those seeds, who knows what would come of all of them.

Graeme Thompson as Hullaboo @ IGNITE! 2009

As I alluded to in an earlier post, I ran into Graeme Thompson at this weekend – he was filling in for an ill actor from Capilano University. Well, he found me. A few years ago, he had performed as Hullaboo, and found it a difficult task, to try and act a show with so much direct address to the audience. Well, he saw my show, and came up to me afterwards, with kind words: “So that’s how it’s supposed to be done. All your words, everything, just flowed so naturally, like you were really just talking with the audience.” I really appreciated that. An old seed, an old beginning that happened to grow into a meeting this weekend.

Someone compared me to my doppleganger by saying we were “both a level above with our talent.”

When I performed tonight, I was sure I had missed something somewhere, because the 45 minutes between me and my audience flew by so fast.

This post is me celebrating my time at this wonderful festival.

But tomorrow morning I have to leave town, and hope God is a good gardener in my absence, hope that some local farmer will take pity on my field and water it in my stead. And there’s always facebook.

I’ll miss you, Chilliwack.

I hope to see you again next year. If Ian lets me back in. 🙂

Cheers,
Andrew Wade

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Building the Killdozer / Aiming my Life

EDIT: I posted my Marvin Heemeyer / Killdozer monologue here: https://adewade.wordpress.com/2010/06/10/marvin-heemeyer-my-monologue/ .

Before I get into the nitty gritty of this post, thank you so much Melissa and Janet for your kind and well-thought-out comments on my last post. A full reply deserves a post of its own that I’ll deliver sometime later this month.

How does a pacifistic Christian accurately write from the viewpoint of, and portray, a man who feels compelled by God to build himself a homemade tank and destroy half a town?

This Friday, Intrepid Theatre is holding their third Bring Out Your Dead event, where I am performing a monologue as Marvin Heemeyer, builder of the 75 ton Killdozer that tore through the buildings of his enemies in the small town of Granby, Colorado, in 2004. This shall also be (as I only just realized this morning), the first time I have ever been paid to act (other than as a film extra). I have been paid for my writing, – for performances of Hullaboo and High School Noir – but never before for acting. Well, if you discount Grossology centre stage shows and running around like a supervillain at Science World. 🙂

So this milestone comes with its own pressures, including that unfortunte fear of success that seems so counter-intuitive an idea. Why a fear of success? Because actually getting paid for my crafts really does put me in a career trajectory of potentially doing acting and writing as a living… which, admittedly, is scary, as much as it is also challenging and wonderful and excellent.

To get a sense of ‘Marv the Muffler Man’ and his story, I highly recommend reading the damninteresting.com article on him, and perhaps this Syndicalist recap as well. I’ll wait for ya.

This man is who I am dramatizing – a desperate man who, when faced with corrupt authority figures and injustice in society, went on a crusade to confront the evils of the world. His name is… BATMAN.

Okay, maybe not.

But he is a compelling figure, nonetheless. His aggressors did nothing technically illegal, yet they pushed him out of business and left him without options other than to sell and get the heck out of Dodge. Out of all this (and his fiancee cheating on him and leaving him), he felt inspired by God to build a tank, equip it with guns, and destroy City Hall, the concrete plant, and other buildings (with, oddly enough, a Catholic Church near the end of his list of targets).

As a Christian believer, do I think this was a course of action God really directed him to take? Well, no. But as a Christian, I can really identify with that desire to see a pattern in the world and identify it as a God-given purpose in life. Because we do look for how the higher power may have steered our lives, for what opportunities and challenges may have been deliberately set before us by the Great Almighty.

I know, personally, some options presented before me just seem to ‘click’, like when I signed up for Students for Literacy, or when I acted with David Perry at ThePlace, or put my hat in the ring to be one of next year’s Peer Helping Coordinators. Or auditioned for UVic’s theatre department.

Challenges? Certainly. But they felt like the right stepping stones. So I suppose that I, like Marvin, do feel that sensation that my life has an ideal way it can progress, if I make the right choices, if I follow my gut instincts and trust in the Great Shepherd to take me through the fields.

And whether I agree or disagree with his actions, I feel, as I write this piece, that it’s important to find the overall certainty within Marvin that he felt what he was doing was the right way, was justice… and then introduce little glimmers of uncertainty.

Because believing is all about faith,

and faith requires the possibility of doubt.

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A script for ThePlaceKidz

A 6th century mosaic of Jesus at Church San Ap...
Image via Wikipedia

Below is a first (and possibly only?) draft for a piece of theatre I’ve written that the children at my church are going to perform, based on Luke 8:22-56. Hee hee!

————————————-

Enter NARRATOR to side of stage, and JESUS, centre-stage. Jesus mimes teaching to the congregation.

NARRATOR
Jesus had been traveling through towns and villages, teaching the good news of the kingdom of God.

Enter PETER, JAMES, JOHN, DISCIPLES and WOMEN. Jesus mimes teaching to them.

NARRATOR
With him were his disciples, and women who he had cured of evil spirits and diseases. One day, Jesus said to his disciples-

JESUS
Let’s cross to the other side of this lake.

Jesus starts walking.

PETER
Uh… Jesus?

JESUS
Yes?

PETER
Walking across the water might be a little tough for the rest of us. Do you mind if we use a boat?

NARRATOR
So they all stepped into the boat.

Disciples and Women hold the SIDE OF BOAT.

JESUS
Well, goodnight.

Jesus sleeps. STORM people rub their hands together and slowly move to a semi-circle surrounding the boat. The Disciples and the Women are scared. They shake the sides of the boat back and forth.

JAMES
Uh, Jesus?

Storm people rub their hands together more fiercely. Jesus continues to sleep.

JOHN
Big J? We might have a problem here.

Storm people pat their thighs to simulate harder rain. The sides of the boat shake even more. Jesus continues to sleep.

JAMES
Jesus!

PETER
Wakey-wakey!

Storm people pat their thighs really loudly. The sides of the boat are spinning. The Disciples and Women are terrified. Jesus continues to sleep.

PETER
MASTER! MASTER! WE’RE GOING TO DROWN!

Jesus wakes up, gets to his feet, yawns. He turns to one side and makes a stop sign with his hand.

JESUS
Silence!

The side turns quiet and wanders away. Jesus turns to the other side.

JESUS
Quiet down!

The other side turns quiet and wanders away. The disciples and the women are amazed.

DISCIPLES & WOMEN
Wooooooooooaaah.

JESUS
Where is your faith?

PETER (stammering)
Well, you see, I put it down somewhere, and thought I left it on my desk, but then I couldn’t find it, and it’s always in the last place you look, right?

JESUS
That was a rhetorical question.

PETER
Oh.

Jesus shakes his head disapprovingly at him.

NARRATOR
They sailed on into the country of the Gerasenes, directly opposite Galilee.

The sides of the boat are put away and Jesus, the Disciples, and the Women exit. The actors who were the storm come on as PIGS, wearing pig noses made from old egg cartons. They oink on the stage. FARMER BETH and FARMER SUE enter.

FARMER BETH
Sure is a peaceful day to look after our pigs, eh Sue?

FARMER SUE
Sure is, Beth. I like a day where absolutely nothing of any importance happens.

FARMER BETH
Yep.

FARMER SUE
Yep.

A POSSESSED MAN jumps out, wearing all black, with a sign on him saying ‘naked’. He is crazy in an evil Tasmanian Devil sort of way, booga-booga-ing, frothing, and scaring Beth and Sue, who run and hide to the side. The Possessed Man spasms a lot.

FARMER SUE
What’s wrong with him? And is he… naked?

FARMER BETH
He’s been seen around this area for a long time. He’s possessed by demons – he even lives in the cemetery!

Jesus enters. The POSSESSED MAN sees him and screams at Jesus. Jesus looks at him calmly.

JESUS
Come out of that man.

The Possessed Man screams again at Jesus.

POSSESSED MAN
I know who you are!

The POSSESSED MAN falls on his knees before Jesus.

POSSESSED MAN
What do you want with me, Jesus, son of the Most High God? Don’t torture me!!!

JESUS
What is your name?

POSSESSED MAN
Legion. For we are a legion of demons inside this man! Don’t send us to the abyss! Anywhere but there! Anywhere! Send us instead into… these pigs!

The Possessed Man gestures to the pigs oinking onstage.

JESUS
Go.

The Possessed Man screams, then falls flat to the ground. The pigs all squeal and run off the side of the stage, making lots of pig-dying noises as they fall down just offstage.

FARMER BETH
We’ve got to go tell the town!

Farmer Beth and Farmer Sue run off and bring the TOWNSPEOPLE onstage. The Formerly Possessed Man puts on a coat and sits calmly, cross-legged, at Jesus’ side.

FARMER SUE
Look! Look! I told you he was cured!

All the townspeople see the peaceful formerly possessed man. The formerly possessed man waves hello – All the townspeople shrink back, afraid.

TERRIFIED TOWNSPERSON
But that… that isn’t possible! If this man did that…

The townspeople all look at Jesus, terrified. The TOWNSPERSON walks up to Jesus.

TERRIFIED TOWNSPERSON
Y-y-y-y-you better go! W-w-w-w-e don’t want you here!

The townspeople, the terrified townsperson, Farmer Sue, and Farmer Beth exit.

JESUS (to the formerly possessed man)
Go home and tell everyone everything that God has done in you.

The formerly possessed man exits. The Disciples enter and follow Jesus as he walks along the stage.

A HUGE CROWD of people (including the former pigs and the former townspeople) and JAIRUS enter. JAIRUS’ DAUGHTER lies down in a very visible place to the side (on the ridge of the baptismal place?), with a SERVANT and JAIRUS’ WIFE by her side. The Daughter groans, barely moving.

NARRATOR
When Jesus returned, a great big crowd was waiting for him, including a man named Jairus, who had a very sick daughter.

Jairus falls to Jesus’ feet.

JAIRUS
Please, please, PLEASE come back to my home! My twelve-year-old daughter is dying. Please, help her!

NARRATOR
Jairus was not the only person who came for Jesus’ help. A woman was there who had been bleeding for twelve years, without end.

BLEEDING WOMAN steps slightly out of the crowd, to the audience.

NARRATOR
In an attempt to be healed when all doctors had failed her, she reached out and touched the tip of Jesus’ cloak.

BLEEDING WOMAN sneaks up behind Jesus and touches the tip of his cloak.

JESUS (seemingly angry)
Who just touched me?

The crowd (including the Bleeding Woman) all steps back, saying ‘Not me!’ and ‘I didn’t!’ and ‘I wouldn’t dare’, etcetera.

PETER
Master, the whole crowd was pressing against you. They’re rather pushy. Personal space, people, come on!

JESUS
Someone touched me. I felt power go out from me.

The bleeding woman steps forward.

BLEEDING WOMAN
I did. You see, I’ve been bleeding without stop for twelve years now, and the doctors don’t know how to fix me, but when I saw you I knew that if I could just touch you, you would heal me. So I did, and now… I’m healed.

JESUS
Your faith has healed you, for you trusted in me. Go in peace.

Jairus’ Daughter stops moving.

JAIRUS’ WIFE
My daughter!

The SERVANT runs across the stage and pulls Jairus aside. Jesus overhears their conversation.

SERVANT
Sir, I’m sorry, but your daughter has died. No need now to bother the teacher.

Jesus walks over to Jairus.

JESUS
Do not be afraid – just trust in me and she will be healed.

Jesus, Jairus, Peter, James, and John walk over to the daughter and her mother. The other actors exit the stage. Jairus and Jairus’ Wife cry and wail over their dead daughter.

JESUS
Don’t cry; she hasn’t died. She’s sleeping.

Jairus and Jairus’ Wife look up at him and laugh, sadly.

JAIRUS
Thank you for coming, but my daughter is dead.

Jesus holds Jairus’ Daughter’s hand.

JESUS
My dear child, wake up.

Jairus’ Daughter immediately sits up.

JAIRUS DAUGHTER
Prince Charming?

Jairus and his wife hug their daughter.

NARRATOR
Her parents were ecstatic, but Jesus warned them to keep quiet.

JESUS
Don’t tell a soul what happened in this room.

PETER
Uh… question. If we were to, say, hypothetically, later on down the road write a book about you and what you’re doing, a sort of biography, good news, yadda yadda, do you think we could write about this, then? Because it’s a pretty cool story.

NARRATOR
The end.

(bows.)

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