Possibly the most popular of my plays I wrote and performed in the 70's.
THE GREAT SCHISM
One day as Jesus was speaking to the crowds, two men stood at the rear of the multitude, listening.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”
Abel poked Ben in the arm. “Isn't He great?”
Shh!
“You have heard it said, "Love your friends and hate your enemies." But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Abel persevered. “I said; isn't He great? He always says the most marvelous things.”
Ben glared at him. “Yes. And I'd like to hear them. So, shuddap!”
“Those who forgive much will be forgiven much, those who forgive little will be forgiven little.”
Abel tried raising the volume. “I SAID, ISN'T HE WONDERFUL!!!”
Ben yelled. “SHUT UP ALREADY! Oops. Sorry Jesus! Didn’t mean You. Please excuse the interruption. You just go on with those Beatitude thingies.” He grabbed Abel’s arm. “Oh, for pity's sake, lets step over here, where we won't disturb the rest of the crowd. Now what in the world is bothering you so much that you have to bother me about it?”
“Oh, it's just that I'm so overwhelmed by Jesus. I mean, He's so wise, and clever, so compassionate, you know?
“Yes I do actually, and I'd appreciate the chance of getting back to hear more of the wise and clever things He has to say.”
Abel swelled with pride. “Well, I'm the guy who can tell you all about how merciful, kind and generous He is.”
“Izzat so?”
“Oh, yeah. You see, Jesus healed me.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. You see, I used to be blind. And not only that, but I couldn't see either! There I was, sitting by the side of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, when I heard this crowd come by. I asked what was going on, and they said that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. So I reared back, and shouted, ‘Oh, Son of David! Have pity on me!’.”
“And what happened?”
“The crowd told me to shut up.”
“Humph. I'm not surprised, with a fog horn voice like that. What happened next?”
“I just roared it out the louder: WOE! SON OF DAVID! HAVE PITY ON ME!!”
“Yeesh! Pipe down, already! They heard you clear to the other side of the Sea of Galilee! Oh! Now look what you did! You interrupted Jesus' sermon again!” He shouts to Jesus. “It's O.K., Jesus! Just a false alarm. You can go on with Your parable.” He turns to Abel and grips him by the collar. “There had better be a point to this story.”
“There is. Jesus came over and asked what the riot was about. I explained that I was not only blind, but that I couldn't see either. He then said, ‘Son, be healed‘. And Lo! and-or Behold! I could see! Isn't that wonderful?”
“You're right, it isn't.”
“It isn't? Why not?”
“Because I don't think you were blind at all! I think you were just faking it to get to talk with Jesus. If this so-called event ever happened at all in the first place.”
“What do you mean by that? How can you say such a thing?”
“From practical experience.”
“What practical experience?”
“Namely that I, too, used to be blind.”
“You did?”
“Yes I did. And I used to beg for a living on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem.”
“Really? Is that anywhere near the road from Jerusalem to Jericho?”
“Will you cease interrupting me to ask tom fool questions?”
“If I do the play will be too short.”
“Oh. Anyway I didn't make a noisy nuisance of myself. I just sat there quietly minding my own business, when the Apostle Philip passed by. He spotted me, and brought me to Jesus. He asked Jesus if it wasn't possible that something couldn't be done for me. Jesus said “With God all things are possible." He then bent over, picked up some dirt, and put it in His hand.”
“What did He do that for?”
“I'm getting to that. He then spit in His hand, and mixed some mud.”
“That sounds like a strange thing to do.”
“He then took the mud, and put it in my eyes…”
“Oh, yuckky-poo!”
“And when it was washed off, Behold! and-or Lo! I could see!”
“Why that's wonderful!”
“It certainly is. And that proves that you are a fake.”
“What? How in the world do you come to that conclusion?”
“Because Jesus didn't use the holy spit on you.”
“The what?”
“The holy spit.”
I’m confused. Don't you mean the Holy Spirit?”
“No, I mean the holy spit. Like it says in that book the Apostle John is going to be writing one of these days, ‘You must be filled with the holy spit‘. You didn't receive the holy spit, then you just ain't no real disciple of Jesus!”
“The heck I ain't! I've never heard of such foolishness! I was so healed by Jesus. All He did was say the magic words, ‘Son be healed’ and I was healed.”
“Oh, yeah? Well in your case it was still the holy spit at work.”
“Huh? How so?”
“Because if it wasn't for the spit lubricating Jesus' mouth, how could He talk?”
Abel’s jaw dropped. “Oh, man! That is really grasping at straws! I don't have to put up with this! You know what I'm going to do?”
Ben stuck out his tongue and started to sing. “Whatcha gonna do-oo, whatcha gonna do-oo!”
“I'm going to go out there and start my own church, that's what I'm going to do!”
“Oh, yeah, smarty pants? Well, I'm going to start my own church, too. And I'll bet I get twice the congregation you do!”
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
Lets leave this intellectual debate, and look in on Abel and Ben the next day, and see how they are coming along. I was afraid of this. They are not coming along at all. Abel and Ben are glaring at each other from behind signs. Abel's says "Foist Choich of da Cozmic Woid". Ben's says "First Church of the Sacred Spittoon." They alternate glaring at each other and haranguing passersby.)
Ben cries out. “Amen, Amen I say unto you, you must be filled with the holy spit!”
Abel sneers. “Brethren, 4 out of 5 theologians agree, the age of spit is past!”
“Hah! Beware of those who with their vain multiplication of words magnifies the hot air and bends the ozone layer!”
“Sez you! For as everybody and their cousin knows, In the beginning was the Word, and the secret word was: "Son be healed"!”
“You must be baptized in the holy spit!”
“Hey, I bet it'll take forever to fill your baptismal tank! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“Oh, yeah? Well, at least I can spell my sign right!”
Cozbi is walking along the road, and stops to look at the signs. “Hi, guys. What's up?”
Abel and Ben shriek in unison. “Hot dog! A convert!” Each then grabs one of Cozbi's arms and pulls him toward his sign.
“He wants to join the First Church of the Cosmic Word!”
“He looks like he has half a brain, which is twice what you have, therefore he must want to join the First Church of the Sacred Spittoon!”
“I saw him first!”
“But I grabbed him first!”
“Our choir sings better!”
“Our bingo parties have better prizes!”
Cozbi tried to calm them. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please! What in the world is this all about?”
“He's a fake and he wasn't blind at all!”
“And he's one of those hippo-critters you hear so much about! Like the Pharisees and the Republicans!”
“That's Publicans, stupid!”
“Would both of you let go of my arms, and then one of you start at the beginning?”
“I was blind until Jesus cured me with just a word.”
“And I was blind and Jesus cured me with the holy spit.”
“Fake!”
“Fraud!”
“Alright, if I understand you correctly, he healed you with a word and no spit?”
“Yeah.”
“And He healed you with spit and no words, right?”
“Yeah. And that's why he's a fake!”
“GRR!”
“Then it seems to me that the important thing here is Jesus Himself, not spit, words or the
lack thereof.”
“HUH?”
“WHAT?”
“Yes. I'm sure you will admit that you can talk until you are blue in the face and it won't cure any one of anything.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And you. Do you agree that if you went to the hospital and spit on all the patients, that none would be better off? In fact, it would probably result in an increase in the number of patients by one, since no doubt one of them would most likely belt you one with his crutch for spitting on him.”
“When you put it that way…”
“So if nobody's words or spit does any healing except Jesus, then He is the important part, right?”
“True.”
“Right.”
“And didn't Jesus say we were supposed to love one another?”
“Friend!”
“Buddy!”
Cozbi is crushed between them as they try to hug each other with him in between them. The break the hug, Cozbi can breathe again and Ben has a suggestion.
“Why don't you guys come over to my house for dinner?”
“O. K. What are you having?”
“Why, spit pea soup, of course.”
THE GREAT SCHISM
One day as Jesus was speaking to the crowds, two men stood at the rear of the multitude, listening.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.”
Abel poked Ben in the arm. “Isn't He great?”
Shh!
“You have heard it said, "Love your friends and hate your enemies." But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
Abel persevered. “I said; isn't He great? He always says the most marvelous things.”
Ben glared at him. “Yes. And I'd like to hear them. So, shuddap!”
“Those who forgive much will be forgiven much, those who forgive little will be forgiven little.”
Abel tried raising the volume. “I SAID, ISN'T HE WONDERFUL!!!”
Ben yelled. “SHUT UP ALREADY! Oops. Sorry Jesus! Didn’t mean You. Please excuse the interruption. You just go on with those Beatitude thingies.” He grabbed Abel’s arm. “Oh, for pity's sake, lets step over here, where we won't disturb the rest of the crowd. Now what in the world is bothering you so much that you have to bother me about it?”
“Oh, it's just that I'm so overwhelmed by Jesus. I mean, He's so wise, and clever, so compassionate, you know?
“Yes I do actually, and I'd appreciate the chance of getting back to hear more of the wise and clever things He has to say.”
Abel swelled with pride. “Well, I'm the guy who can tell you all about how merciful, kind and generous He is.”
“Izzat so?”
“Oh, yeah. You see, Jesus healed me.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. You see, I used to be blind. And not only that, but I couldn't see either! There I was, sitting by the side of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho, when I heard this crowd come by. I asked what was going on, and they said that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. So I reared back, and shouted, ‘Oh, Son of David! Have pity on me!’.”
“And what happened?”
“The crowd told me to shut up.”
“Humph. I'm not surprised, with a fog horn voice like that. What happened next?”
“I just roared it out the louder: WOE! SON OF DAVID! HAVE PITY ON ME!!”
“Yeesh! Pipe down, already! They heard you clear to the other side of the Sea of Galilee! Oh! Now look what you did! You interrupted Jesus' sermon again!” He shouts to Jesus. “It's O.K., Jesus! Just a false alarm. You can go on with Your parable.” He turns to Abel and grips him by the collar. “There had better be a point to this story.”
“There is. Jesus came over and asked what the riot was about. I explained that I was not only blind, but that I couldn't see either. He then said, ‘Son, be healed‘. And Lo! and-or Behold! I could see! Isn't that wonderful?”
“You're right, it isn't.”
“It isn't? Why not?”
“Because I don't think you were blind at all! I think you were just faking it to get to talk with Jesus. If this so-called event ever happened at all in the first place.”
“What do you mean by that? How can you say such a thing?”
“From practical experience.”
“What practical experience?”
“Namely that I, too, used to be blind.”
“You did?”
“Yes I did. And I used to beg for a living on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem.”
“Really? Is that anywhere near the road from Jerusalem to Jericho?”
“Will you cease interrupting me to ask tom fool questions?”
“If I do the play will be too short.”
“Oh. Anyway I didn't make a noisy nuisance of myself. I just sat there quietly minding my own business, when the Apostle Philip passed by. He spotted me, and brought me to Jesus. He asked Jesus if it wasn't possible that something couldn't be done for me. Jesus said “With God all things are possible." He then bent over, picked up some dirt, and put it in His hand.”
“What did He do that for?”
“I'm getting to that. He then spit in His hand, and mixed some mud.”
“That sounds like a strange thing to do.”
“He then took the mud, and put it in my eyes…”
“Oh, yuckky-poo!”
“And when it was washed off, Behold! and-or Lo! I could see!”
“Why that's wonderful!”
“It certainly is. And that proves that you are a fake.”
“What? How in the world do you come to that conclusion?”
“Because Jesus didn't use the holy spit on you.”
“The what?”
“The holy spit.”
I’m confused. Don't you mean the Holy Spirit?”
“No, I mean the holy spit. Like it says in that book the Apostle John is going to be writing one of these days, ‘You must be filled with the holy spit‘. You didn't receive the holy spit, then you just ain't no real disciple of Jesus!”
“The heck I ain't! I've never heard of such foolishness! I was so healed by Jesus. All He did was say the magic words, ‘Son be healed’ and I was healed.”
“Oh, yeah? Well in your case it was still the holy spit at work.”
“Huh? How so?”
“Because if it wasn't for the spit lubricating Jesus' mouth, how could He talk?”
Abel’s jaw dropped. “Oh, man! That is really grasping at straws! I don't have to put up with this! You know what I'm going to do?”
Ben stuck out his tongue and started to sing. “Whatcha gonna do-oo, whatcha gonna do-oo!”
“I'm going to go out there and start my own church, that's what I'm going to do!”
“Oh, yeah, smarty pants? Well, I'm going to start my own church, too. And I'll bet I get twice the congregation you do!”
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
“Will not!”
“Will too!”
Lets leave this intellectual debate, and look in on Abel and Ben the next day, and see how they are coming along. I was afraid of this. They are not coming along at all. Abel and Ben are glaring at each other from behind signs. Abel's says "Foist Choich of da Cozmic Woid". Ben's says "First Church of the Sacred Spittoon." They alternate glaring at each other and haranguing passersby.)
Ben cries out. “Amen, Amen I say unto you, you must be filled with the holy spit!”
Abel sneers. “Brethren, 4 out of 5 theologians agree, the age of spit is past!”
“Hah! Beware of those who with their vain multiplication of words magnifies the hot air and bends the ozone layer!”
“Sez you! For as everybody and their cousin knows, In the beginning was the Word, and the secret word was: "Son be healed"!”
“You must be baptized in the holy spit!”
“Hey, I bet it'll take forever to fill your baptismal tank! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“Oh, yeah? Well, at least I can spell my sign right!”
Cozbi is walking along the road, and stops to look at the signs. “Hi, guys. What's up?”
Abel and Ben shriek in unison. “Hot dog! A convert!” Each then grabs one of Cozbi's arms and pulls him toward his sign.
“He wants to join the First Church of the Cosmic Word!”
“He looks like he has half a brain, which is twice what you have, therefore he must want to join the First Church of the Sacred Spittoon!”
“I saw him first!”
“But I grabbed him first!”
“Our choir sings better!”
“Our bingo parties have better prizes!”
Cozbi tried to calm them. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please! What in the world is this all about?”
“He's a fake and he wasn't blind at all!”
“And he's one of those hippo-critters you hear so much about! Like the Pharisees and the Republicans!”
“That's Publicans, stupid!”
“Would both of you let go of my arms, and then one of you start at the beginning?”
“I was blind until Jesus cured me with just a word.”
“And I was blind and Jesus cured me with the holy spit.”
“Fake!”
“Fraud!”
“Alright, if I understand you correctly, he healed you with a word and no spit?”
“Yeah.”
“And He healed you with spit and no words, right?”
“Yeah. And that's why he's a fake!”
“GRR!”
“Then it seems to me that the important thing here is Jesus Himself, not spit, words or the
lack thereof.”
“HUH?”
“WHAT?”
“Yes. I'm sure you will admit that you can talk until you are blue in the face and it won't cure any one of anything.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And you. Do you agree that if you went to the hospital and spit on all the patients, that none would be better off? In fact, it would probably result in an increase in the number of patients by one, since no doubt one of them would most likely belt you one with his crutch for spitting on him.”
“When you put it that way…”
“So if nobody's words or spit does any healing except Jesus, then He is the important part, right?”
“True.”
“Right.”
“And didn't Jesus say we were supposed to love one another?”
“Friend!”
“Buddy!”
Cozbi is crushed between them as they try to hug each other with him in between them. The break the hug, Cozbi can breathe again and Ben has a suggestion.
“Why don't you guys come over to my house for dinner?”
“O. K. What are you having?”
“Why, spit pea soup, of course.”
