Did Not My Heart Burn Within Me?

On the road to Emmaus.

The account of the two disciples, Cleopas and another, who left Jerusalem in despair after the killing of Jesus, who felt all was lost, felt there was no reason to stay or to carry on. And suddenly, walking with them on the road, was another traveller. And did not their hearts burn within them?

Cast:  1 monologue

Bible Reference:  Luke 24:13-49

Set:  bare

Lighting: standard

Sound: wireless mics if available

Song:   none

SFX:  none

Costumes:    may be traditional or contemporary

Props:      none

Special Instructions:   none

Time:   5

Sample of script:

actor comes onstage

The day was one of emotional highs and lows!
From the heights of elation to the depths of despair!

From the pinnacles of triumph to the pits of doom!

I and my friend had left behind the dark, depressing heartache of town and set out on the dusty, boring trail to . . . wherever our tired and dull muscles might take us. It was not important where we might go, only that we leave behind the awful realization that all we had hoped for, prayed for, dreamed of, . . . was all just a foolish and baseless delusion, a groundless fantasy.

Lofty aspirations and plans from three days ago were today nothing more than putrid dust on our tongues, crushing feelings of hurt and betrayal.

Where did we go wrong? Our fanciful, almost fanatical dreaming of setting the world on it’s ear, was it simply nothing more than childish imagination, even hallucinating?

We were so sure of ourselves! . . . Things had been going so smoothly, so well! . . . And even in those rare occasions where we had a setback . . . it was so minor, just a slight adjustment in course and forward we would go. . . .

And of course when there was anything seriously wrong He was always there.

The joy of that evening when we all met for supper in that upper room. . . . Well, it wasn’t all joy. There was that moment when He talked of . . . going away. . . . But we didn’t think much about that . . . after all He was always talking in riddles . . . in parables.

And then there was that moment with the keeper of the purse, the one from Kerioth. But that one was always a dark individual, prone to fits of anger and moments of sulking silence. So as that one slinked out of the room he took with him the darkness of that moment.

And then after supper, we went to the garden, to chat. And to sleep . . .

Then there was the clamor of soldiers and conflict and . . .