Cross Over Or Cross Out
Drama
Women In The Wings
20 Biblical Monologues
Making It Preach
This piece compares the physical crossing of the Jordan River and all of its religious implications for the people of Israel with what it means for a person to cross over into the arms of Jesus. Miriam's granddaughter remembers that momentous day, feeling the incredible import of being a link between two acts of God's deliverance, the exodus and the entrance into the promised land. Through Jesus, those events are part of every Christian's heritage, and as our troubadour points out, it is our turn to tell the tale and add how God's salvation story continues in our lives, individually and corporately. Her grandmother Miriam's song from Exodus 15:21 invites a new generation of those who have received God's grace to rejoice in and tell of the ways Christ continues to bring people over and through the armies of opposition and the sea of separation from God.
Making It Play
It is important to allow the rhythm of the poetry to add flow without getting in the way of the story. Do not automatically pause at the end of a line if the sentence continues to the middle of the next. Though it may take a little while for the listeners' ears to adjust to the verse, they will soon feel the excitement and range of emotion recounted by Miriam's granddaughter. Make up a tune for Miriam's song, if you have the gift of music. If not, chant the words with reverence and perhaps clap or march to suggest a beat. A simple tunic with head covering is sufficient externally, but make sure the awe and conviction of one trying to describe a miracle bubbles up from within.
Miriam's Granddaughter Recounts The Miracle Of Entering The Promised Land
The dust arose. The day had come.
The ark came forth to lead us home,
gleaming gold topped angel's wings,
a throne, but not for earthly kings.
Yet, there it shone right through the haze of sand kicked up around.
We sat on pins and needles, hoping to hear the footsteps sound.
For Joshua had put out the word,
confirming what we'd always heard:
that someday when our parents died
we'd cross over to the other side
of the Jordan. What a river! "Could a land of promise lie
beyond your banks?" we'd sit and wonder. "What's the treasure that you hide?"
"Pack up your things!" The cry went out.
I couldn't tell, amid the shouts,
why we had to move again.
Please, not another grievous sin!
My people's stubborn nature is like the grit between my teeth.
So, the punishment continues. Will we ever find release?
I'm tired of the nomad way;
it's all I've known day after day.
Moving, stopping, off we go --
I want one place to call a home.
Perhaps, I'm wrong. Perhaps I'd become bored with just one spot.
But, I'd love the chance to try it, whether I'd want that life or not!
As these thoughts swirled through my mind,
I felt a nudge come from behind.
"Did you hear?" My little sister tugged
my clothing, then my waist she hugged.
"We're going there! We're going there!" I had to ask, "We're going where?"
"The promised land -- we're going home! There's not much time, but I don't care!"
She ran ahead and spun around.
But, I was rooted to the ground.
We're going in? Could it be true?
There's so much that we have to do!
But, if she's wrong, my heart will break! Did her hopes eclipse her hearing?
Dare I believe it's happening? It was a letdown I was fearing,
the loss of a precious dream,
the dulling of fabled gleam.
Would the Lord change the plan,
again keep us from the land
if someone messes up today? Let them put their pride aside!
Lord, help them trust in something bigger, not themselves, but you, their guide!
Thus, I prayed, for three days straight,
and, oh, it was so hard to wait!
But, as I said before: that day,
that day, it took my breath away!
When the priests brought forth the ark to lead us and we all fell in behind,
a new life stretched out before us, almost too much for the mind.
Pa-dum, pa-dum, the sound of feet,
pa-dum, pa-dum, the blistering heat
I barely felt, as we walked.
No one even dared to talk.
It was as if we held our breath along the path to the river.
There were no questions of how we'd cross; its mere sight made me shiver.
Oh, river of freedom, servant of sin,
you river that once fenced us in
will split, I know, as did the Red Sea.
You'll open up for what's to be,
the path I've yet to trod. Pa-dum, pa-dum, our feet, they padded along.
Shall I be another Miriam there, to sing and play the victory song?
Her daughter was my mother, so
it's fitting I prepare to go
and play her tune and sing her song.
That way, she will go along
with me and see what her brother Moses saw from atop the mountain's peak.
Though they perished on the journey, those slaves will reach the land they seek.
Ready to cross, not just ourselves,
but a people of the twelve
tribes of Israel, Jacob's clan,
born and blessed by God's hand.
Since Jacob's time our favor died, Egypt's wealth to Egypt's chains
to dirt and manna, grit and greed. But, our hope in the Lord is alive again.
Have you ever been part of a miracle,
to stand in awe with a heart that's full
and a spirit in touch with the Spirit of the Lord?
I'd give away more than I could afford
to recapture that magic moment, when the Jordan's waters ceased to flow.
The priests with the ark set their feet in the water; a pathway dried up and the bottom showed!
Then in we marched, again holding our breath,
feeling one false move could end in death.
Yet, deeper still, inside we knew
we needn't fear God's promise true.
And, so we reached the other shore, the edges of the promised land,
where milk and honey and fertile fields would soon replace the barren sand.
So, here we are, and here we'll stay.
Wilderness fading, a new day awaits,
but first there are battles that need to be won.
There is nothing new under the sun.
An easier life we were promised, yes, but an easy life will never be.
Still, I have my grandmother's song to sing, a song of triumph o'er the sea.
"Sing ye to the Lord,
for he hath triumphed gloriously:
the horse and his rider
hath he thrown into the sea.
Sing ye to the Lord,
for he hath triumphed gloriously.
Alleluia! Alleluia!"
There are other verses I could write,
of tears and struggle and faith in flight,
of a river crossing and a brand new land,
the fulfillment of promise at the Lord's strong hand.
But, you could write more, so many more words, about the people of promise saved for your sake
and the Messiah who loved you and gave of his life to make the way for your escape.
What is it you sing? What's the story you tell:
despair and deliverance ... salvation, as well?
Have you yet to cross over, or is the crossing now done?
How much farther will you go? Will that race you run?
Please -- make up a song or a rhyme or just speak from your heart to your friends.
Tell of the journey of faith you have walked and share how that journey never ends.
Invite them to come, if they dare;
it will be a sign that you care.
They are far less likely to haw and hem
if you promise you will walk with them.
Or, maybe you need them to walk with you, much as my people fell into step
and crossed together, and fought for our place, as the Lord's great plan and promise were kept.
You sing your song, and I'll sing mine.
And, together, our God we will glorify.
"Sing ye to the Lord
for he hath triumphed gloriously:
the horse and his rider
hath he thrown into the sea.
Sing ye to the Lord
for he hath triumphed gloriously.
Alleluia! Alleluia!"
Amen.
This piece compares the physical crossing of the Jordan River and all of its religious implications for the people of Israel with what it means for a person to cross over into the arms of Jesus. Miriam's granddaughter remembers that momentous day, feeling the incredible import of being a link between two acts of God's deliverance, the exodus and the entrance into the promised land. Through Jesus, those events are part of every Christian's heritage, and as our troubadour points out, it is our turn to tell the tale and add how God's salvation story continues in our lives, individually and corporately. Her grandmother Miriam's song from Exodus 15:21 invites a new generation of those who have received God's grace to rejoice in and tell of the ways Christ continues to bring people over and through the armies of opposition and the sea of separation from God.
Making It Play
It is important to allow the rhythm of the poetry to add flow without getting in the way of the story. Do not automatically pause at the end of a line if the sentence continues to the middle of the next. Though it may take a little while for the listeners' ears to adjust to the verse, they will soon feel the excitement and range of emotion recounted by Miriam's granddaughter. Make up a tune for Miriam's song, if you have the gift of music. If not, chant the words with reverence and perhaps clap or march to suggest a beat. A simple tunic with head covering is sufficient externally, but make sure the awe and conviction of one trying to describe a miracle bubbles up from within.
Miriam's Granddaughter Recounts The Miracle Of Entering The Promised Land
The dust arose. The day had come.
The ark came forth to lead us home,
gleaming gold topped angel's wings,
a throne, but not for earthly kings.
Yet, there it shone right through the haze of sand kicked up around.
We sat on pins and needles, hoping to hear the footsteps sound.
For Joshua had put out the word,
confirming what we'd always heard:
that someday when our parents died
we'd cross over to the other side
of the Jordan. What a river! "Could a land of promise lie
beyond your banks?" we'd sit and wonder. "What's the treasure that you hide?"
"Pack up your things!" The cry went out.
I couldn't tell, amid the shouts,
why we had to move again.
Please, not another grievous sin!
My people's stubborn nature is like the grit between my teeth.
So, the punishment continues. Will we ever find release?
I'm tired of the nomad way;
it's all I've known day after day.
Moving, stopping, off we go --
I want one place to call a home.
Perhaps, I'm wrong. Perhaps I'd become bored with just one spot.
But, I'd love the chance to try it, whether I'd want that life or not!
As these thoughts swirled through my mind,
I felt a nudge come from behind.
"Did you hear?" My little sister tugged
my clothing, then my waist she hugged.
"We're going there! We're going there!" I had to ask, "We're going where?"
"The promised land -- we're going home! There's not much time, but I don't care!"
She ran ahead and spun around.
But, I was rooted to the ground.
We're going in? Could it be true?
There's so much that we have to do!
But, if she's wrong, my heart will break! Did her hopes eclipse her hearing?
Dare I believe it's happening? It was a letdown I was fearing,
the loss of a precious dream,
the dulling of fabled gleam.
Would the Lord change the plan,
again keep us from the land
if someone messes up today? Let them put their pride aside!
Lord, help them trust in something bigger, not themselves, but you, their guide!
Thus, I prayed, for three days straight,
and, oh, it was so hard to wait!
But, as I said before: that day,
that day, it took my breath away!
When the priests brought forth the ark to lead us and we all fell in behind,
a new life stretched out before us, almost too much for the mind.
Pa-dum, pa-dum, the sound of feet,
pa-dum, pa-dum, the blistering heat
I barely felt, as we walked.
No one even dared to talk.
It was as if we held our breath along the path to the river.
There were no questions of how we'd cross; its mere sight made me shiver.
Oh, river of freedom, servant of sin,
you river that once fenced us in
will split, I know, as did the Red Sea.
You'll open up for what's to be,
the path I've yet to trod. Pa-dum, pa-dum, our feet, they padded along.
Shall I be another Miriam there, to sing and play the victory song?
Her daughter was my mother, so
it's fitting I prepare to go
and play her tune and sing her song.
That way, she will go along
with me and see what her brother Moses saw from atop the mountain's peak.
Though they perished on the journey, those slaves will reach the land they seek.
Ready to cross, not just ourselves,
but a people of the twelve
tribes of Israel, Jacob's clan,
born and blessed by God's hand.
Since Jacob's time our favor died, Egypt's wealth to Egypt's chains
to dirt and manna, grit and greed. But, our hope in the Lord is alive again.
Have you ever been part of a miracle,
to stand in awe with a heart that's full
and a spirit in touch with the Spirit of the Lord?
I'd give away more than I could afford
to recapture that magic moment, when the Jordan's waters ceased to flow.
The priests with the ark set their feet in the water; a pathway dried up and the bottom showed!
Then in we marched, again holding our breath,
feeling one false move could end in death.
Yet, deeper still, inside we knew
we needn't fear God's promise true.
And, so we reached the other shore, the edges of the promised land,
where milk and honey and fertile fields would soon replace the barren sand.
So, here we are, and here we'll stay.
Wilderness fading, a new day awaits,
but first there are battles that need to be won.
There is nothing new under the sun.
An easier life we were promised, yes, but an easy life will never be.
Still, I have my grandmother's song to sing, a song of triumph o'er the sea.
"Sing ye to the Lord,
for he hath triumphed gloriously:
the horse and his rider
hath he thrown into the sea.
Sing ye to the Lord,
for he hath triumphed gloriously.
Alleluia! Alleluia!"
There are other verses I could write,
of tears and struggle and faith in flight,
of a river crossing and a brand new land,
the fulfillment of promise at the Lord's strong hand.
But, you could write more, so many more words, about the people of promise saved for your sake
and the Messiah who loved you and gave of his life to make the way for your escape.
What is it you sing? What's the story you tell:
despair and deliverance ... salvation, as well?
Have you yet to cross over, or is the crossing now done?
How much farther will you go? Will that race you run?
Please -- make up a song or a rhyme or just speak from your heart to your friends.
Tell of the journey of faith you have walked and share how that journey never ends.
Invite them to come, if they dare;
it will be a sign that you care.
They are far less likely to haw and hem
if you promise you will walk with them.
Or, maybe you need them to walk with you, much as my people fell into step
and crossed together, and fought for our place, as the Lord's great plan and promise were kept.
You sing your song, and I'll sing mine.
And, together, our God we will glorify.
"Sing ye to the Lord
for he hath triumphed gloriously:
the horse and his rider
hath he thrown into the sea.
Sing ye to the Lord
for he hath triumphed gloriously.
Alleluia! Alleluia!"
Amen.
