I am the Way

By John McNeil

Summary

Richard wants to live life his way, regardless of the harm he is bringing on himself. God appears to him in different guises to try and turn him to a better path.

Cast

God
Richard West

Script

(God enters, wearing a toga)

God: Good morning/evening. I am God. (Pause) I see you’re amused at that. Some of you are thinking, ‘That’s not God, that’s just an ordinary guy dressed up funny.’ Some of you are thinking, ‘Since when was God short, bald, and needed to wear glasses.’ And some of you are thinking, ‘That’s John McNeil – what’s he on about this time?’ I could answer, ‘How do you know I’m not God. How do you know I don’t choose to look like John McNeil at this time – even though he is short and bald and needs glasses.’ After all, I’ve appeared in some even funnier disguises down through the centuries. Burning bushes, and lambs, and so on. Whatever was needed at the time.
 The truth is, I appear in a thousand different ways to each of you. You’ve all seen me, but most probably you didn’t recognise me at the time. When you were kicking your mother in the ribs – from the inside – I was there with you. Actually, that was probably when you came closest to recognising me. But children do forget quickly once they leave the womb. When your mother first fed you, I was there. Your mother was me, in a very real sense. I gave her the job of caring for you, teaching you, changing your nappies. You certainly looked on her as God at the time – she was the centre of your universe for many months. And the same went for your father, of course.
 Then others came along, and each of them in turn was me to you. Your teachers, your football coach, the owner of the corner dairy who gave you a free replacement when you dropped your ice cream. I admit that some of them didn’t represent me too well at times. But even then, I was still there.
 I see that some of you are still puzzled. Why am I bothering to tell you all this? I’m just setting the scene so that I can introduce you to a young acquaintance of mine. His name’s Richard West. You’ll meet him in a moment. Richard’s a pretty average sort of dude. His mum and dad divorced when he was 12. He only just scraped a pass in 6th Form Certificate. He’s working now stacking shelves at the Warehouse, and he only does that so he can earn enough to go partying down The Strip at the weekend. He’d like to move in with his girlfriend, but he’s worried about this de facto property law.
 Richard doesn’t believe in me, even though I’ve been there with him in many different guises down the years. But I don’t give up.

(As Richard enters, God turns round, taking off his toga).

Richard: Hey, Uncle John!

God: Hey Richard, good to see you. How’s the job going?

Richard: (cynical) Great career prospects. We’re all trainee managers now. Not.

God: So why do you stick it?

Richard: It gives me enough to get by. Well, normally it does. But ...truth is, I can’t pay my rent this week. I had to fix the muffler on the car or they wouldn’t give me a warrant. And ... (quieter) I haven’t eaten for two days.

God: And...?

Richard: Can you loan me? I‘ll pay you back.

God: This is the third time in four months.

Richard: It’ll be the last. Honest.

God: You could do better than this...

Richard: Don’t you go on at me, too! I didn’t come for a lecture, just some help.

God: Which is more loving, Richard? To give you a loan and see you no better off in another couple of months...or to offer you a better way?

Richard: There you go again, ramming your religion down my throat. I don’t need this.... (exits)

God: (sadly) He’ll take the gift, but he won’t take the giver. (Brightens)  But, hey, it’s party time. And now it’s time to be Richard’s second-best mate, Greg.

EFX: Rock music, flashing lights.

(God dons a baseball cap and begins to dance.)

(Enter Richard, drunk. He staggers across the stage, trying to dance, blunders into God and clutches on to him.)

Richard: Hey man, what a great party. I feel awful.

God: You look terrible. What have you been drinking?

Richard: I’ve only had a couple of beers. I can’t be drunk yet.

God: You’ve had more than two beers. You’re plastered.

Richard: I’ve only had two beers, I tell you. I bought one, and I drank Susie’s while she was dancing. Some dude gave it to her, but she didn’t want it.

God: I can guess what’s happened, then. That beer was spiked. He probably planned to drag Susie off and have her. I told you this wasn’t a good scene. I’d better get you home.

Richard: You’re always Mr-know-it-all, aren’t you! (Drunkenly grandly) ‘The truth shall set you free!’ (beat) Well, here’s a truth for you. I’m fed up with your holier-than-thou attitude. Your kind of truth is a pain in the butt. The only truth is experience, but you wouldn’t know what that is.... (he staggers and collapses).

(God takes off his baseball cap, dons a doctor’s coat and stethoscope. He lifts Richard onto a bed, takes an oxygen mask and places it over Richard’s face. Richard remains motionless.)

God: (Talking to himself more than Richard) It’s a good job your friend had a cell phone with him. If the ambulance had been much longer getting to you, you would have been in real trouble. Choking on your vomit. Goodness knows what sort of poison that was in your drink. A stomach pump’s not pleasant, but it’s saved your life. That’s one you owe us.

(Stands, takes off coat and stethoscope)

God: You’ve been running hard, Richard, but this episode has shaken you more than you realise. Your way, your truth, your life... they haven’t worked out too well, have they. It hurt me to let you go on that way, but I had to let you try it You’ve no idea how devious I can be, though. Your night nurse is a lovely Christian girl, and I think you are just about ready to listen to her. The chaplain is a good friend of mine, too. And funny thing, this chuch they go to runs a very good Alpha course. We’ll be meeting again very soon.
(exits)
....................................................................................

© John McNeil 2002, all rights reserved
This play may be performed free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged. In exchange for free performance, the author would appreciate being notified of when and for what purpose the play is performed. He may be contacted at: soul.communication@outlook.com
Or at: 36B Stourbridge St, Christchurch 8024, New Zealand.