Robin Layne's Blog: From the Red, Read Robin - Posts Tagged "satan"

I held the tent flap closed with my right hand, except for the little hole I created to see through. In my left hand, I held a fanned-out wad of money. A hand in a long, black satin glove grabbed mine and together we strode out into the hot sun of Portland’s Pioneer Square; I kept my eyes on the Devil as I mirrored the being’s movement—lifting my free arm and shaking the twenty dollar bills , then pulling my arm dramatically down. The Devil, all in black, with an elaborate mask over the eyes, moved with all the grace of the ultimate puppet master, charming one after another of us to tempt and torment a straying child of God. Released, I held my prize beyond the slim girl’s reach as she begged. I shook my head. I pointed to the necklace Jesus had given her when she had romped and danced with him in innocence and freedom. I motioned for her to give it to me. The girl hesitated, but I nodded. She finally relented—removed her string of colorful beads and handed it to me, then reached out for her reward. Holding my the necklace, I held the money beyond her reach, laughed in pantomime, and backed off. I took my place in front of the lover with the red rose who had first charmed her away from Paradise. I compared my money to the necklace. My lips curled in disgust. I tossed the worthless piece of junk aside. I didn’t even look aside when Jesus lunged forward and picked it up. I was too intent on my beloved mammon. I held it up, kissed it, counted it, counted it again.

By that time, the third “sin,” Vanity, had approached in her violet dress and styled hair, measured the girl’s waist, found her wanting, and taught her to vomit. Next, a drunkard in Mardi Gras beads spun awkwardly out of the Devil’s grasp, stumbled up to the girl, and introduced her to a bottle of something that made her sputter. A drug lord followed, and then, at the depths of her despair, the girl imitated Suicide, who wore a black hood and led her in cutting her arm . . .

The Devil was actually a woman named Sarah, an amazingly talented dancer, who wore not Prada but ballet slippers. When she was younger, she used to dance for Ringaling Brothers Circus. She was a good leader in the “sin” tent, although she had a tendency to talk during rehearsals in spite of the orders of the director/producer/choreographer, Carissa, who also played a demon in this fourteen minute show, “Miracle Man.” Members of Westside Vineyard Church, we performed our dance four times on Saturday, August 3, at Pioneer Square in Portland, Oregon, as part of our annual Heaven to Earth Festival. Yes, I know, I’m a little late at describing it. I’ve been very busy.

Getting free of being a “sin” took some time and a little struggle. First, in response to a backward glance at the girl (played by a teen named Lisa), Jesus pushed all the sins aside and let another girl (Kaitlin), who had stayed loyal to him throughout, pull the gun from Lisa and pled for her to let go of her shame and be reconciled to her Lord. As all this took place, I couldn’t watch. I had to stand motionless with my head down, until Satan and two demons crept out and brought us back up again. Then we reached out toward Lisa like zombies, pleading with our respective props. She considered turning back to her sins, then turned her attention fully to Jesus. Three angels in white stepped in front of us, and we backed off from the unseen barrier. The demons went back to casting their spells to keep us wrapped up with our symbolic props. I went back to counting money, but this time my expression was less gleeful, more hardened.

Jesus danced again with both his girls, and then spun them in our direction. They brought each of the tempters to Jesus, going from the first to the last. I kept counting and kissing my money until they got to me. I looked from one to the other, confused, as they dragged me forward; I offered them money, but strangely, they showed no interest whatever. As soon as I crossed the line of angels, I saw Jesus face-to-face. Seeing his loving gaze changed everything, just as it did for all the others. For, unlike the “sins” in the Lifehouse “Everything Sketch,” on which our drama was based, we were also people—just people who had been enslaved by Satan.

I ran into the Lord’s embrace. During rehearsal, I had suggested that I might knock him over with my weight and enthusiasm. “Jesus” was a tall high school student who looks older than he really is. He wore blue jeans, and a purple sash over a white tee-shirt that got a little “blood” on it when Suicide and Lisa hugged him. But like the rest of us, the boy had Jesus in him; God’s love shone in his beautiful blue eyes.

We lined up on either side of Jesus and, when he gave the signal, marched forward against Satan and the demons. As one, we held out our hands as if to push them away, and the angels charged between us and routed the evil ones, who ran into the tent to the right of the stage. The applause in the accompanying music was joined by the cheers of the generous-sized audience.

Together we turned and walked back to Jesus. We circled him and danced around him in worship. “Holy . . . You are holy . . . who was, and is, and is to come . . .” (“Miracle Maker,” sung by Kim Walker)

We then each had a short moment of interaction with the Lord—first Kaitlin hugged him , then I hugged him again, bowed, and walked behind the circle back to the tent. Suicide also went back to the tent, but other than Satan, we were the only ones who didn’t join in the final dance—a rousing hip-hop to “I Feel So Alive,” by Capital Kings.
Here is a link to the video, which was recorded during the first and second performances: http://youtu.be/MawFxZEmq_w
The second performance contained the shots with the chalk markings on the bricks.

What the audience couldn’t see was that my performance (and all the rehearsals) were a sacrifice for me. I had injured my knees falling off a bike, and they were slow to heal. That was why I couldn’t do a controlled fall to the bricks like the others, and why Carissa changed it so I had to stand, which was painful too over a long period of time; she had Rachel, who played the drunkard, stand as well so that I wouldn’t stand out so much.

I wasn’t the only one injured during the course of rehearsals. I think something happened to Sarah early on. Then Daniel, and especially Lisa, suffered abrasions going down a concrete slide at a youth retreat. Lisa was banged up so badly she couldn’t let anyone touch her for a while, and a piece of gauze stuck to her wound as if it were part of her skin. The real Devil was trying hard to shut us down. But we persevered, and we kept praying and practicing. It all worked out well in the end.

Some events of note about the process: One Sunday night after we had rehearsed in the afternoon, I was in the cry room in back of the sanctuary, and Daniel was asleep in an easy chair. In front of me I noticed a familiar brown ponytail from the back. Sarah, I thought. I said to her, “Jesus conked out, but Satan is still wide awake and prowling around.”

The woman turned and stared at me. “What?” It wasn’t Sarah, and she had no idea why I had just called her Satan.
On the day of the outreach, many of us arrived early to help set up the tents: A stage for the worship bands; a large prophetic art and children’s tent complete with a bubble machine, art supplies, and paintings on display; a healing tent, where a number of people would experience miracles through God’s love; a “messages from God” tent, where believers prayed and gave people words of knowledge and encouragement. Our drama group stayed in close communication so that we could be properly prepared for each of the performances of “Miracle Man.” At lunchtime, we walked together from Pioneer Square toward the Waterfront, toward a stretch of outdoor food booths. On the way, I saw a billboard with my prop on it: Key Bank used a fan of twenty dollar bills to advertise its gift of free money to new customers. The major difference was that the billboard showed real bills. Mine showed Shakespeare instead of Jackson on the front and I had carefully stapled them back-to-back so the blank backs didn’t show on either side of the “fan.”
As I hung out in the art tent between performances, a couple of our members spoke of some needy people whom they had met who said they would come to the Heaven to Earth Festival. These people never arrived. Tim, one of our dancers, said they must have been distracted by “Sarah.” We may have a new code word, we agreed. When I told Sarah later, she said, “I’m never going to live this down!”

On another day following the festival, the drama group gathered one final time to debrief, to sign Thank You cards for the people in the church who had interceded for us, and to receive awards. Each award certificate was unique. Mine, which now hangs in my apartment entryway, is “the superstar perseverance award.” Carissa’s is “the multipersonality award” because she was the writer, director, choreographer, and also played a demon that transformed into an angel for the final dance. Daniel’s award said, “I’m God. Who the heck are you?” We discussed possibly performing again in the future, and many said they were interested. But when asked if we might perform at a Waterfront outreach this month, not enough people were interested, and there would not have been enough time to create a new drama for a small number of people. Really, it’s no surprise; most of our performers are students, and it’s September.

Ironically, my knees are finally healed, so I could have done it much easier. Now that I am no longer needed for the part, there is no pressure from “Sarah.”