Down from the Cross

by Joyce Livingston

  “You are incorrigible!”

  “You’re stubborn!”

  “You’re gullible!”

  “You’re blind!”

  Nose to nose, Keene thought about the ridiculousness of their argument and how childishly they were both behaving, and he broke out in laughter.

  Jane stared at him for a moment then joined in.

  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” he asked, still laughing as he whipped an arm about her waist and lifted her up in his arms, her feet dangling above the pavement.

  She giggled and nodded her head. “I wonder if God is up there laughing at us.”

  He chuckled, too. “I don’t know, but if He is, I hope He’s watching!” With that, he set her down and planted a kiss on her lips. When she didn’t protest, he gazed into her eyes then kissed her again as her arms willingly slipped around his neck.

  When he finally released her and set her back down on the pavement, she gave him a long, hard stare he was not able to interpret. “Got any more names you want to call me?” he asked sheepishly.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” she said, putting her fists on her hips. “Thoughtful. Talented. Handsome. Generous. A great kisser.” A smile touched her lips. “Want me to go on?”

  “No, it’s my turn.” He let loose a boisterous laugh and once again snatched her close to him. “You’re beautiful. Kind. Caring. Smart. Funny. Terrific to be around.” He suddenly turned serious. “And the best example of Christianity I’ve ever seen.”

  Jane reached up and cupped his cheek with her palm, smiling the sweetest smile he had ever seen on a woman’s face, causing his heart to do funny things in his chest. “Keene, nothing you could have said would have pleased me more, except that you, too, want to accept God’s plan of salvation for your very own. My prayer, since the day I met you, was that God would use me and my love for Him to reach you.” She stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “God loves you, Keene, and so do I.”

  He stood mesmerized by her words while she climbed into her little car and drove away.

  seven

  Coral Mills, a longtime member of the church who was approaching her nineties, glanced at her watch. In only ten minutes, the first performance of her church’s annual Easter pageant would begin. She reached across her daughter-in-law and took her son’s hand. “I’m so glad you two could make it tonight.”

  Ralph Mills patted his mother’s hand with a smile. “Me, too, Mom. I’m not that interested in the pageant, or whatever they call it, but I am really excited about hearing Keene Moray sing. Amy and I have been fans of his for a long time, but we’ve never heard him in person.”

  Amy’s eyes widened as she peered around the crowded sanctuary. “I’ve heard the tickets have been gone for weeks. I’m sure glad you were able to get tickets for us, Mother Mills.”

  “So am I.” Coral breathed up a prayer of thanks. Lord, You know how long I have been praying for my son and his wife. They need You. Please, speak to their hearts through the music tonight. I so long to see them saved before I pass on. I’m trusting in You, God!

  Ralph glanced at the program in his hand then leaned across Amy. “Mom, I’d like to ask you a question. I don’t claim to be a Christian, but I don’t understand how come your church will allow a man to play the part of Jesus. Jesus was supposed to be perfect. How can you let a mortal man who is not perfect portray His part? Isn’t that a bit sacrilegious?”

  Coral smiled, glad he was considering such things. To her, it proved he was open. “Oh, son, the first year we decided to do an Easter pageant, there were all sorts of questions like this from our regular members. We didn’t want to do anything that would bring reproach upon our Savior’s name or the church’s name, so we considered every conceivable complaint we might encounter and discussed it at great length. Your dear father served on the board at that time.”

  Ralph squeezed her frail hand. “I guess they must have decided it would be okay.”

  “Oh, yes. They decided it would be okay, but only after hours and hours of discussion and prayer. In the end, the board voted unanimously to go ahead with their plans. The church’s sole purpose is to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ to all who would hear, to nurture and train Christians young and old, and to provide support and encouragement to one another. Our yearly pageants do that very thing. Thousands of people from our community attend these special events. Many of them have never even been in a church, except to attend weddings and funerals, and this is the only time they will sit and listen to God’s Word. There is something about hearing it set to music and seeing it portrayed in costume with an appropriate setting that makes them see the reality of what actually happened two thousand years ago and how God’s love and plan relate to them.”

  He gave her an adoring smile. “Thanks, Mom. I knew if anyone would know the answer, it would be you.”

  As the lights dimmed and the prelude began, the Mills family, together with twenty-five hundred others, settled back in their seats to enjoy Down from the Cross.

  Jane wanted to fade into the woodwork. She felt like this every time she sang before an audience. Ben Kennard always reminded his singers that being nervous before a performance helped them to sing even better. It meant they had to be dependent upon God to get them through it, rather than their own talents.

  She had not seen Keene since two o’clock when he left his apartment, saying he had an appointment. Which seemed strange, since he had not written an appointment on his calendar. Well, no need to worry. If he hadn’t made it to the church by now, Ben Kennard would be tearing his hair out.

  She hurriedly took her place in the darkness onstage with the others, ready to sing Down from the Cross to their waiting audience. The orchestra finished the prelude and spotlights focused on a scene set high up in one corner where there appeared a group of Jewish leaders, donned in fine velvets and decorative hats, discussing what they were going to do about this man called Jesus who had caught the attention of the people.

  When the upper lights dimmed, other spotlights flooded the stage, which was filled with people milling about the marketplace, shopping and visiting, with children running to and fro. Someone hollered, “Jesus is coming,” and they all began cheering and waving palm branches high in the air. Jane, in her costume as one of them, waved her palm branch, too, straining for the first view of Keene as he entered, playing the part of Jesus. Though she’d been to all the dress rehearsals and sung Down from the Cross many times, she’d never experienced the sensations that overtook her when she and the others sang, “Hosanna, Hosanna, blessed be the Lord!”

  He moved about the crowd in his long robe and sandals, smiling at people, lifting children and tousling their hair. The way he’d let his beard and his hair grow long over the past seven weeks, and the marvelous job the makeup people had done in bronzing his skin and applying touches of color around his eyes, had all changed Keene’s appearance. In her eyes, he now looked more like the likeness she had envisioned of her Lord than like Keene. Oh, Father, she prayed, waving her palm branch with the others, even though this man is not a Christian, use him to win souls. May everyone forget this is an earthly man and think about Christ.

  Though Keene never spoke a word in the first scene, he was a powerful presence onstage.

  She hurried offstage with the others while the next scene shifted to the temple where people were exchanging their money. She watched from the wings while Jesus moved in quickly, asking them what they thought they were doing and reminding them they were making His Father’s house into a den of thieves, ordering them to stop. When they did not, He overturned the moneychangers’ tables. He did it with such passion, Jane found herself forgetting she had a costume change and had to hurry while the next scene, the one in which the Jewish leaders met with Judas to arrange Jesus’ capture, played above the stage.

  Moving onstage once more, she watched Jesus move about the happy crowd, smiling, healing the sick, making the lame to walk, the blind to see, casting out demons
, even raising the dead to life again. It was clear Keene was no stranger to performing. His stage presence was flawless and every cue right on time.

  By the time it came for Jane’s first appearance as Mary, Jesus’ mother, her heart was so full of God’s love that she found herself eager to sing, with all the nervousness she’d expected gone. But as she stood on the stage waiting for her cue, Jesus entered, bleeding, battered, and beaten, limping and falling under the weight of the heavy cross He bore on His shoulder. The scene of her Lord suffering like that, the flesh on His back literally torn from His bones, was nearly too much to bear, and she found herself weeping, her chest heaving with each sob. When they led Jesus to the cross, Jane cried like she had never cried before, her heart breaking for the Savior who had bled and died for her. Lord, I will never get through this without Your help! But when she opened her mouth to sing, even though she could not stop crying, she felt God’s presence, and she sang it to Him.

  When she came to the last few lines of the song, Jane fell to her knees and, raising her face heavenward, sang, “How can this be happening? How can this be true? Can it be, dear Father God, that you are crying, too?”

  Even though she had sung those words many times, they took on a whole new meaning. Through tears of sorrow, she fixed her gaze on the body of Jesus, sprawled out upon the cross while the soldiers began to hammer the nails into His hands and feet, one by one, the sound echoing across the great auditorium. Jane had to wonder how Keene felt, lying there with his hands and feet being anchored to the cross, the pounding of the hammer so close to his head.

  When the soldiers finally finished their heinous deed, along with the other performers and the audience, she watched them raise the cross with its sign nailed above His head: JESUS OF NAZARETH—KING OF THE JEWS. There Jesus hung in agony and excruciating pain, stripped nearly naked, taking on the sins of the world. It touched her heart so deeply she had to close her eyes lest she faint.

  Like a bolt of lightning, Keene’s voice rang out, splitting the heavy silence. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!”

  Like the scriptures said, the soldiers began to mock Him and cast lots for what little clothing He had left. Jane moved instinctively toward the cross and fell at its foot, weeping as Mary would have wept, feeling many of the emotions Mary must have felt. The man singing the apostle John’s part knelt beside her, wrapping an arm around her. Writhing in pain, Jesus lowered His head, His face nearly covered with blood from the crown of thorns pressed into His tender flesh, and asked him to take care of His mother.

  “If Thou be the Christ, save Thyself and us!” one of the thieves hanging on the crosses on either side of Him called out sarcastically.

  The other thief lifted his weary head and rebuked him, saying, “Dost thou not fear God? We receive the due reward of our deeds, but this man hath done nothing!” Then the man turned his face toward Jesus. “Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.”

  With great effort and pain, Jesus turned to the second thief. “Today thou shalt be with Me in paradise.”

  Jane watched, and from her heart she whispered, “Oh, Keene, you are like the first thief, denying the existence and deity of God. Listen to what you are saying! Don’t turn your back on Him, or like that thief you’ll spend eternity in hell.” But he was too far away to hear.

  They moved through the other scenes, each one so special, so touching. When the last scene ended, showing Christ ascending into heaven, and the final song had been sung, Pastor Congdon moved to the center of the platform and extended an invitation to anyone who wanted to accept the risen Christ as their Savior. Hundreds of people moved into the aisles, crowding around the front, weeping and eager to commit their lives to God. Jane watched from the wings, breathing a prayer of thanks to her Savior for using this means to reach souls for Him and for letting her be a part of it.

  Coral Miller held her breath when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her son rising and extending his hand toward his wife, with tears rolling down his cheeks. Amy, too, was crying. But before the couple moved past her and headed for the altar of the huge sanctuary, Ralph bent and kissed Coral’s cheek, whispering how much he loved her and appreciated the prayers he knew she’d been praying for both him and Amy.

  She watched her precious son slip an arm around his wife’s waist and the two of them move forward to accept Christ as their Savior, her heart throbbing with grateful thanks to her Lord. For over forty years, she had begged God to bring her son into the fold, but he had never expressed the slightest interest in the things of God. Now, just months before her ninetieth birthday, God was answering her prayers.

  Leaning back against the seat, Coral bowed her trembling head and folded her arthritic hands in prayer, tears running down her wrinkled cheeks. Father God, You have blessed me more abundantly than I have had any right to ask. Thank You for letting me live long enough to see the deepest desire of my heart fulfilled—Ralph and Amy accepting You as their Savior. Lord, You can take me home anytime now. I’m ready to go.

  Keene was waiting for Jane when she finally made her way to her car. She had stayed late to help counsel some of the young people who had come forward. She was surprised to find him there. The last time she saw him, he had been signing autographs for the many people who crowded around him after Pastor Congdon dismissed the audience.

  “Well, we did it! Everything went off like clockwork. The members of Randlewood Church can be very proud of what they’ve done.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “You were wonderful as Mary. I knew you would be.”

  She sent him a shy smile. “Thank you.” Though she was grateful for all the hours of practice he had put into Down from the Cross, she had to admit she was a bit turned off by his boastful tone. She had been so sure once Keene performed the part of Jesus, he would be so touched by the message he would fall to his knees and accept her Lord. But apparently it had not happened.

  Patience, My child. Patience.

  “You were amazing tonight, Keene. The audience thought so, too.”

  He gave her chin a playful jab. “I’m supposed to be amazing. I’ve had many years of practice, remember?”

  “I mean… you sang with such meaning, I thought—”

  “That I believed what I was singing?”

  “Yes, I’d… I’d hoped so.”

  With a finger, he lifted her face up to his and gazed into her eyes. “Sorry, kiddo. I hate to disappoint you, but all I was doing was portraying a part and doing it the best I could. I still don’t believe in God.”

  She blinked furiously, trying to hold back tears. “I’m still going to pray for you.”

  “By all means do, if it’ll make you feel better, but don’t count on any miracles.” He grabbed her hand with a slight chuckle, linking his fingers with hers. “I’d invite you out for a cup of coffee, but I’ll bet you’re tired.” He took her car key and opened her door. “Don’t worry about coming in early tomorrow. I probably won’t be in the office myself until about noon.”

  She nodded. “Thanks, but I’ll be there long before that, and you’re right. I am tired. I’ll hold you to a rain check on that coffee.”

  “You’ve got it!”

  “Did you see your picture on the front page of this morning’s newspaper?” Jane asked excitedly, waving the paper at him when he came into the office the next day. “And there’s a wonderful article saying how you graciously stepped in when the lead singer was unable to perform due to his illness. They were quite complimentary about Down from the Cross, even mentioned how many people responded to the invitation to accept Christ.”

  He gave the paper a casual glance and began to shuffle through the mail. “That’s nice. When you’re finished reading it, put it in my publicity file.”

  “That’s all you’ve got to say? That’s nice?” She sent him a look of exasperation, upset that he had focused his attention on the mail and not on her words. “I was thrilled with the article.”

/>   He placed the mail back on the desk with a guilty grin. “I’m sorry, Jane. I have something else on my mind. I’m glad the writer of the article did a good job. What else did it have to say?”

  She frowned. “What it failed to say could cause the church a real problem!”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “They never mentioned that people needed to get a ticket to attend, and all of those free tickets have been given out! I talked with Pastor Congdon a few minutes ago, and although he wants a good turnout from the community, he is afraid many folks will come to the church expecting to get in, and there won’t be any seats for them. We sure don’t want to turn them away.”

  “He’s right. It would be a shame for them to drive to the church only to find they have wasted their time. But I’m sure your pastor will figure out a way to handle things.”

  “I hope so. It also says you gave an amazing performance, and those lucky enough to be in the audience were given a real treat, as the Randlewood Community Church portrayed the true meaning of the Easter season.”

  Shivers assailed her when he sauntered close and circled her waist with his arm.

  “It… it also talks about the beautiful costumes and sets and how they were all made by volunteers from the church who…”

  She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “Who spent many hours…”

  She sucked in a gasp of air when his lips brushed her eyelid. “Who spent many hours working in…”

  His lips trailed to her cheek, and she thought surely her heart would stop beating. “Working in the church annex…”

  “Yes, go on, I’m listening,” he whispered, lifting her hair and feathering the words against her ear.

  “In… in the church annex, using their own tools and—”

  He pulled her into his arms, and his mouth claimed hers, the newspaper falling to the floor. All her resolve to keep their relationship on a friendly basis dissolved into nothingness. She leaned into the strength of his arms, enjoying his kiss more than she knew she had a right to enjoy it. Enjoying Keene’s kisses and letting her love for him escalate would only mean trouble and disappointment. She tried to back away, but he held her fast, his lips once again melding with hers.