Artistry: Monologue

The Gospel According to Mary—the Resurrection

A Dramatic Monologue

(Mary is lost in thought. Her unseen audience is patient with her. After a pause, she continues, but in an altered state…)

Tell about His resurrection? I will try. But when I tell this part of his story, something happens to me…I seem to relive it.

I remember the morning of the third day—just a few moments before we sent to the tomb.

(She is suddenly back in time to that morning and she seems a bit unhinged by grief, but is still a lady of great faith. Her head is bowed in grief. She looks up suddenly.)

Who’s…there? Martha, it’s you and your sister, Mary. I am glad to see you. I’m ready…to go… to the…T…What? not quite time yet? Yes, I suppose you’re right. We have some time to sit and…talk. And what? To remember…yes, to remember. I’m sorry, I’m not…myself. I haven’t slept much since…and not at all last night. You see this morning is the third day. You remember what He said…Did you hear Him? He said the third day…well that’s today. It will be dawn in less than an hour I would say.

Who is that with you? Oh, Mary of Magdala. Oh, Mary…your eyes…I see you haven’t slept either. I know what you must feel. He was my son, but I have other sons. He was your redeemer and if He is dead, you have no hope. What? Yes, you are still in your sins. But today is the third day. Yes, I know He died. The four of us, we all prepared His lifeless body for that cold place. But today is…

You, Martha, you saw what He did for Lazarus. Your brother was dead four days and with just a word, Jesus called him back from death. Those who wrapped Lazarus in grave clothes had the joy of unwrapping him. But who can call my son from His grave?

(slowly, as if realizing)

Perhaps the same one who visited me that night so long ago. No, not the angel Gabriel, I meant…wait…do you know my story? Joseph and I were so happy, so much in love. I’m sure there was nothing special about us, but we felt special when we were together. Everything was right on schedule and then…Gabriel! His words were frightening, but that was not all…they were exciting, thrilling somehow. There was a ring of truth in them, of a comfort tinged in fear…I know that doesn’t make sense, but that was it. A comfort that God was at work and would never abandon us, but a fear of what man and the devil might do…would do.

But it is not Gabriel who has the power to bring my son back. You must realize that I have felt the moving of God’s Spirit within me. He overshadowed me and my son came to be. Oh, there are things that have happened to me that no one can understand. But there is power to create life in the moving of the Spirit of God. That is the one I mean. And today is …

What? What kind of child…? Yes, Oh yes He was a special child…A joy to raise. He loved everything…there was such a capacity in Him to enjoy things, to enjoy people. Everyday events seemed special to Him. He noticed things others paid no mind to. He noticed children that others neglected or were cruel toward and He would go to them and make them feel special. He was a hard worker. Joseph taught Him carpentry. He was good at it. People of the village sought Him out to do their work. After Joseph…died, Jesus and James kept right on working to support me and the others. It was only when James and Jude were able to carry on the business that Jesus left us to go preach.

He was such a comfort to me when Joseph died. I remember we just held each other and wept. Just the way He wept at the tomb of your Lazarus. You remember? What? Yes, how could you forget? (getting excited, going faster)How can we forget any of it? I saw Him drive out demons. I saw blind eyes open, and you did, too. We can’t forget that. We can’t forget what He said and did. And we must remember(losing steam, slowing, losing her train of thought)…the…the power. Is today the third d…yes, it is.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that frantic shepherds told me of singing angels? that wise men from the east came to worship Him? that I held my newborn son in my arms? I rocked him as a baby. I held him as a child. I heard him call out to me in the night. Wasn’t it just yesterday that the old prophet Simeon stopped us in the Temple Court and prophesied of Him and of a sword that would pierce my heart?

(remembering the sound of the crowd)

“Crucify! Crucify!” …Was it just yesterday I held my lifeless son in my arms. (she breaks down)

(looking up through her tears)

No, it wasn’t yesterday. It was two days ago. I remember now. Today is the third day.

(Suddenly strong and clear minded)

Come my sisters, we must go to His tomb.

Semper Reformanda!
Stephen Phifer
© 2016 Stephen R. Phifer All Rights Reserved