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Authors: Joyce Livingston

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BOOK: Down from the Cross
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“From the phone calls that come in every day, I’d say she’s only one of your many admirers.” Jane chuckled. “I hope they’re not all like that.”

He shrugged. “Sadly, most of them are. Spoiled little rich girls with time and money on their hands and overindulgent mommies and daddies to cater to their every whim. And to think I used to like that kind of woman.”

With a grin, she tilted her head and raised a brow. “Used to?”

“Yeah, used to.”

She wished she knew what that statement meant, but when he did not offer to elaborate, she decided to let it drop and get back to work.

Keene stopped outside the closed office door on the way to his room, tempted to go inside and try to give Jane a better explanation about Babs’s impromptu visit. But he decided against it and moved on down the hall.
What’s with me?
he asked himself, settling down in a comfortable barrel-backed chair.
Not long ago, I considered Babs funny and charming, the life of the party. Now, with her pushy ways, she seems obnoxious. Her very presence repels me.

He didn’t have to ask himself that question a second time. He knew what was wrong with him. He was comparing all the women he had ever met with Jane, and all of them were coming up short. But why? What did Jane have going for her the others did not? Although he considered her beautiful, she was certainly no more attractive than most of the women who continually called him. Her wardrobe consisted of either jeans and a T-shirt or sweats. Those women were always beautifully coiffed and adorned in the latest Paris fashions. She mentioned she had taken a few college classes. Most of the others had graduated from prestigious women’s colleges. If Jane outshone them, there was only one reason that made any sense. She was who she was, 24/7. No dishonesty. No put-on. No trying to impress people by pretending she was something she was not. Her life was pure, sweet, and innocent. And what made her this way? He hated to admit it, but her faith in God and her gentle ways were what made her beautiful.

The dress rehearsal went even better than Keene expected it would. Though he had not said anything to Jane or anyone else from the church, he had been quite concerned about working with a group of nonprofessionals. The idea of the cast showing up onstage wearing chenille bathrobes and Roman soldiers carrying cardboard swords covered with foil had terrified him. In some ways, he was putting his career on the line, particularly now that
Down from the Cross
was garnering so much media coverage and promised to get even more once the performances started. However, the costumes were nothing like he had expected. Whoever created them had done their research. Everything rang true to the times and the traditions, and anyone could tell by looking that no labor or expense had been spared. The costumes rivaled the most expensive, elaborately designed costumes in any of New York City’s finest productions.

It was nearly five o’clock before Keene walked Jane to her car. “Long day, huh?”

She stretched her arms above her head and brought them down, letting her breath out slowly. “Um, yes, but a good one. I’m really excited about
Down from the Cross.
Not just because you are singing the part of Jesus, but also because I think the entire cantata has a wonderful message. It’s my prayer that many in our audience will hear the plan of salvation through it and accept Christ as their Savior.”

“You really do believe all of this, don’t you?” The hurt look on her face told him his words had offended her.

“Keene,” she began, her pale blue eyes filled with an unexpected intensity, “could you have been around me all these weeks and doubt my sincerity? You keep asking me that question. Yes, I do believe it. All of it! And I wish you did, too!”

He stepped in front of her and grabbed both her wrists. “Why does this always have to come back around to me? Has your God made you my keeper?”

Anger flared in her eyes, and she blinked away her tears. “Yes, I think He has! At least, He put us together so I could share my faith with you!”

His laugh came out haughtier than he intended, and he instantly wished he could take it back. “Next you’ll be telling me God made me run that stoplight and ram my car into yours, breaking your leg!”

She lifted her face to his, glaring at him as she jerked her hands free. “He might have. He can do anything He wants!”

“You are incorrigible!”

“You’re stubborn!”

“You’re gullible!”

“You’re blind!”

Nose to nose, Keene thought about the ridiculousness of their argument and how childishly they were both behaving, and he broke out in laughter.

Jane stared at him for a moment then joined in.

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” he asked, still laughing as he whipped an arm about her waist and lifted her up in his arms, her feet dangling above the pavement.

She giggled and nodded her head. “I wonder if God is up there laughing at us.”

He chuckled, too. “I don’t know, but if He is, I hope He’s watching!” With that, he set her down and planted a kiss on her lips. When she didn’t protest, he gazed into her eyes then kissed her again as her arms willingly slipped around his neck.

When he finally released her and set her back down on the pavement, she gave him a long, hard stare he was not able to interpret. “Got any more names you want to call me?” he asked sheepishly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” she said, putting her fists on her hips. “Thoughtful. Talented. Handsome. Generous. A great kisser.” A smile touched her lips. “Want me to go on?”

“No, it’s my turn.” He let loose a boisterous laugh and once again snatched her close to him. “You’re beautiful. Kind. Caring. Smart. Funny. Terrific to be around.” He suddenly turned serious. “And the best example of Christianity I’ve ever seen.”

Jane reached up and cupped his cheek with her palm, smiling the sweetest smile he had ever seen on a woman’s face, causing his heart to do funny things in his chest. “Keene, nothing you could have said would have pleased me more, except that you, too, want to accept God’s plan of salvation for your very own. My prayer, since the day I met you, was that God would use me and my love for Him to reach you.” She stroked his cheek with her fingertips. “God loves you, Keene, and so do I.”

He stood mesmerized by her words while she climbed into her little car and drove away.

seven

Coral Mills, a longtime member of the church who was approaching her nineties, glanced at her watch. In only ten minutes, the first performance of her church’s annual Easter pageant would begin. She reached across her daughter-in-law and took her son’s hand. “I’m so glad you two could make it tonight.”

Ralph Mills patted his mother’s hand with a smile. “Me, too, Mom. I’m not that interested in the pageant, or whatever they call it, but I am really excited about hearing Keene Moray sing. Amy and I have been fans of his for a long time, but we’ve never heard him in person.”

Amy’s eyes widened as she peered around the crowded sanctuary. “I’ve heard the tickets have been gone for weeks. I’m sure glad you were able to get tickets for us, Mother Mills.”

“So am I.” Coral breathed up a prayer of thanks.
Lord, You know how long I have been praying for my son and his wife. They need You. Please, speak to their hearts through the music tonight. I so long to see them saved before I pass on. I’m trusting in You, God!

Ralph glanced at the program in his hand then leaned across Amy. “Mom, I’d like to ask you a question. I don’t claim to be a Christian, but I don’t understand how come your church will allow a man to play the part of Jesus. Jesus was supposed to be perfect. How can you let a mortal man who is not perfect portray His part? Isn’t that a bit sacrilegious?”

Coral smiled, glad he was considering such things. To her, it proved he was open. “Oh, son, the first year we decided to do an Easter pageant, there were all sorts of questions like this from our regular members. We didn’t want to do anything that would bring reproach upon our Savior’s name or the church’s name, so we considered every conceivable complaint we might encounter and discussed it at great length. Your dear father served on the board at that time.”

Ralph squeezed her frail hand. “I guess they must have decided it would be okay.”

“Oh, yes. They decided it would be okay, but only after hours and hours of discussion and prayer. In the end, the board voted unanimously to go ahead with their plans. The church’s sole purpose is to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ to all who would hear, to nurture and train Christians young and old, and to provide support and encouragement to one another. Our yearly pageants do that very thing. Thousands of people from our community attend these special events. Many of them have never even been in a church, except to attend weddings and funerals, and this is the only time they will sit and listen to God’s Word. There is something about hearing it set to music and seeing it portrayed in costume with an appropriate setting that makes them see the reality of what actually happened two thousand years ago and how God’s love and plan relate to them.”

He gave her an adoring smile. “Thanks, Mom. I knew if anyone would know the answer, it would be you.”

As the lights dimmed and the prelude began, the Mills family, together with twenty-five hundred others, settled back in their seats to enjoy
Down from the Cross.

Jane wanted to fade into the woodwork. She felt like this every time she sang before an audience. Ben Kennard always reminded his singers that being nervous before a performance helped them to sing even better. It meant they had to be dependent upon God to get them through it, rather than their own talents.

She had not seen Keene since two o’clock when he left his apartment, saying he had an appointment. Which seemed strange, since he had not written an appointment on his calendar. Well, no need to worry. If he hadn’t made it to the church by now, Ben Kennard would be tearing his hair out.

She hurriedly took her place in the darkness onstage with the others, ready to sing
Down from the Cross
to their waiting audience. The orchestra finished the prelude and spotlights focused on a scene set high up in one corner where there appeared a group of Jewish leaders, donned in fine velvets and decorative hats, discussing what they were going to do about this man called Jesus who had caught the attention of the people.

When the upper lights dimmed, other spotlights flooded the stage, which was filled with people milling about the marketplace, shopping and visiting, with children running to and fro. Someone hollered, “Jesus is coming,” and they all began cheering and waving palm branches high in the air. Jane, in her costume as one of them, waved her palm branch, too, straining for the first view of Keene as he entered, playing the part of Jesus. Though she’d been to all the dress rehearsals and sung
Down from the Cross
many times, she’d never experienced the sensations that overtook her when she and the others sang, “Hosanna, Hosanna, blessed be the Lord!”

He moved about the crowd in his long robe and sandals, smiling at people, lifting children and tousling their hair. The way he’d let his beard and his hair grow long over the past seven weeks, and the marvelous job the makeup people had done in bronzing his skin and applying touches of color around his eyes, had all changed Keene’s appearance. In her eyes, he now looked more like the likeness she had envisioned of her Lord than like Keene.
Oh, Father,
she prayed, waving her palm branch with the others,
even though this man is not a Christian, use him to win souls. May everyone forget this is an earthly man and think about Christ.

Though Keene never spoke a word in the first scene, he was a powerful presence onstage.

She hurried offstage with the others while the next scene shifted to the temple where people were exchanging their money. She watched from the wings while Jesus moved in quickly, asking them what they thought they were doing and reminding them they were making His Father’s house into a den of thieves, ordering them to stop. When they did not, He overturned the moneychangers’ tables. He did it with such passion, Jane found herself forgetting she had a costume change and had to hurry while the next scene, the one in which the Jewish leaders met with Judas to arrange Jesus’ capture, played above the stage.

BOOK: Down from the Cross
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