The Emotional Journey to The Last Supper

I've been tasked with updating my The Last Supper play that we performed at my church last year. Considering that it was my first play and that I was sorting out a complex story in a short space, it wasn't performed so much as workshopped. I took a great many notes from my co-Directors and vowed that I would return a much pared down version of the play this year.

But in starting the re-writing of the play, I realized that it wasn't enough to just take the stuff I'd written before and shorten it. While I do need to shorten the play, I also need to still have a valid journey for the audience to follow whether they be Christians early on their walk or those who have walked around the block more than a few times. This means that I, once again, will need to reexamine this oft told tale and find a new "shorter" relevant story that I can tell while still constrained by the format issues and other restrictions placed upon me from the earlier version.

To wit: I need to introduce all 12 disciples and show the events leading up to and including the Last Supper (and this year I also wish to add the Garden of Gethsemane) and I need to do it in half the time.

But this post isn't about the literary journey I will now embark upon, but upon the (very abbreviated) spiritual journey I must take in order to tell this story once again.

While I love the Christmas story and the Christmas season, from a writers standpoint Holy Week is way more compelling for story telling purposes. Here you have a group of men that have been together for nearly three years coming into Jerusalem to celebrate Passover together little knowing that their week will end tragically before turning miraculous. But here's the thing - I don't get to explore that last part of the story. I only get to tell the story up until the point of the betrayal. And that's what makes the story so compelling. If Jesus had gone to Jerusalem and just been arrested for inciting a riot, I'm not sure this story would have been as interesting. But no... he was betrayed... and by one of his own men.

We've seen this theme before - many times - in movies and television. The hero is taken out by one of his own men. I always find it hard to fathom. I've been on the losing end of many a fight, but I've never been betrayed by a friend before. And I've never had a reason to betray a friend either. I can understand the motivation from an intellectual point of view, but let's be honest - betrayal is almost always emotionally motivated.

What could have been Judas's emotional motivation? Greed? Jealousy? Some sort of twisted misplaced love?

I know that the rest of the disciples were completely perplexed at the idea that anyone would betray Jesus. Their emotional journeys are a little harder to map because everyone has their own insecurities and internal questions that they need to answer. In a good story, thought, words, actions, and emotions all follow the same pattern - so that what a character does is part thought, part word, part action and part emotion. Or, in other words, what a person does is who that person is. Braveheart refuses to ask for mercy at the end because that is who he is. On a deep level we understand his thinking, his lack of words, his actions, and his emotions. To try and capture that sort of journey for the disciples in half the time... well, it's fun to try.

I think writing this play the first time through taught me the story in a way that I had never actually understood it. But this time, to perfect the play, I need to own it. I need to be not just the fly on the wall, but the thirteenth disciple (the one painting the group portrait ;) who explains the story in a way that makes it relevant to today without changing the story one bit.

Oh... and I have to deliver a final copy in like three weeks. It's time to put on some track shoes... this is going to be an intense, but short, journey...