Down from the Cross (16 page)

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:
J
ESUS OF
N
AZARETH
—K
ING OF THE
J
EWS
.
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.

“Don’t pull away from me, Jane, please.”

The phone rang once.

Twice.

A third time.

His arms wrapped around her even more tightly. “Let the machine get it.” His voice was husky.

Placing her palms on his chest, with a prayer to God for strength to resist this man’s charms, she pushed away and hurried to the phone, her hand going to her throbbing heart. “Ke–Keene Moray’s office. This… this is Jane. How may—”

“Let me talk to Keene,” a man’s voice said, cutting into her salutation.

She covered the phone with her hand. “I think it’s Brian.” Keene stared at the phone then took his time crossing the room to take it from her. “Hello.”