This sermonic monologue can be performed in worship in preparation for Communion as a monologue or as a "reader's theater" piece. This appears as "Appendix A," pp. 113-117, in The Politics of Worship. Copyright United Church Press, 1999, and used with permission.

Two rocking chairs should be placed near the communion table facing each other or slightly at angle, depending on where the people are seated. One is empty. The other is taken by the person speaking. After a silence the person in the rocker begins.

Where have you been? You've been so hard to get hold of, I'm not even sure I recognized you. One minute you're here, another you're gone. Are you really the one we elected? I know it sounds strange, but I'm not sure you're really our president at all. You'd think people would know their president, wouldn't you?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. You just don't seem to understand how hard it's been for us. We had such hopes for you. You won the election against all odds. The polls were all wrong, as usual. They never imagined that someone from your hometown could do it… I'm sorry about that reference… But we were so fired up…
But then... word of your torture and assassination...we were shattered...dazed…

We couldn't believe it when you showed up at the inaugural ball, and then at the meeting upstairs -- or was it a party? We were so ecstatic with your presence that all the differences of the campaign were bridged. We could really talk with each other again. We really understood each other for the first time. You were there. You were our President. Your power was everywhere! We could really feel your presence and authority!

But then you just disappeared. A couple of people said they had seen you, even had lunch with you at the diner. But that was it.

(Speaker stands.)

We had real hopes then. A whole new miraculous era was opening up. And you promised us so much - a new Covenant, you said. A new federalism. More power to the people where they really live. More power to local groups who can really talk with one another and work things out. They wouldn't have to depend on distant bureaucrats and politicians who wouldn't listen to them.

But without your leadership we just pulled all those plans back into the black hole of our petty interests. We never could get the big picture again without your help. Then the disappointments started.

Let me put it this way. In a way, you overcame assassination but you couldn't overcome our self-interests, our weakness, our vicious fears, our pettiness, our arrogance. The old factions regrouped, life seemed to return to its usual derelictions.

We were hoping that you could make us do better. Take charge, like a real president! …. Yeah, I know, the congress. I don't see why you trust them more than us. They don't get the picture, I mean the insider vision you let us have. For that matter, I don't know why you trust us either. Instead of giving clear commands to clean up this mess, you let us wander off on our own, telling us to take responsibility -- act as if we were the ones who had been elected. Well, we can't do it! You know that! We've proved it to you over an over. We're simply irresponsible!

Where have you been? All those horrible things that happened - incredible exploitation in mines and factories, enslavement, segregation, apartheid, genocide, plagues and pogroms, and wars beyond counting (a lot of them in your name). Why couldn't you stop us? Where were you? Isn't that what we elected you for?

And you just sit there rocking, speaking in whispers or not at all. … Well, at least we're here ... well, some of us. A couple of people had relatives visiting. They weren't members of our party, so they said they couldn't bring them. I know Bruce had to get his car fixed. There's an important meeting in town to deal with some sewer problems.... OK, I'm sorry we don't have a better turnout... People are busy. They're keeping things going while you just sit in that rocker.

… OK, We'll work on the mailing list. Probably had some computer glitches. We'll have a better turnout next time. We'll get everyone here. But you have to let us know when you're coming. You can't just show up unexpected like this!

You say we are all here? How? …. Well, yes, we do have the evidence - right on us… the cloth from India -- cheap, they're made by children in the villages. Yes, the shirt, China, cheap labor there, too, prisoners they say. Yes, the cars from Detroit and Japan, I hear there's one from Germany. The license plates… they're made by prisoners too.

You call them... your constituents? You're their president too? All? But they didn't vote for you. I mean, it would be unconstitutional. They weren't properly registered! Well, you never did have much respect for our Constitution. Too limited, you always said. Didn't include everybody. You just have no sense of proper jurisdiction! You act like boundaries don't matter!

And yes, what about you? Why are we always dwelling on our shortcomings? Here we elected you. You said you would be our servant. Servanthood was in for you. You promised to stick with us -- something that's never happened in the history of any presidency. People still can't figure it out. Now, well, you invited us here and I don't even see a sign of the refreshments!

(Speaker moves toward rocker.)

People say they've seen you. You were in line down at the soup kitchen just last week, exchanging your ham sandwich for a peanut butter one. They spotted you easily, a dead giveaway. And downtown at the bank, you were picketing, shouting for debt forgiveness for third world countries -- that Jubilee idea of yours. And you were at that fund raiser in Grande Pointe last week. It's amazing how much you can charm out of those wealthy widows.
But times are too desperate for this little stuff. It's time to knock off this grass roots business and get moving again! We know you're around, we'd just like you to really take office like a real president -- like a Commander in Chief.

All we seem to have are all these vice-presidents (gesturing to the congregation). And they hardly ever have the kind of spirit you had. They just can't replace you. And with so many of them, how could we ever tell who would succeed you if...you...died? Well. What I mean is… I don't know what I mean… It's just a big mystery. We'll have to talk more about that.

(Speaker tips the rocker and walks away.)

All right, I've just been complaining. You've been listening patiently. I think that's the secret to the hold you have over us. Well, what do you expect of us? Not a little contribution? ...later? Maybe after the coffee?

You want more? Would ten percent be enough? You know, the Bible says... No? More? That's extortion, probably illegal. You want... our life? That's virtual slavery! Don't you know slavery is out? Don't you have any sense of limits? What are you, some kind of totalitarian dictator? We've got our rights! We are free citizens! I thought that was the basis of the whole arrangement!

Anyway, what do we get out of it?

Life? Life? That's it? You're promising us life? Free life? No, strings attached. … There are strings attached…

It has to be here? Here with the others? But I don't even know some of these people. They're strangers. About all we have in common is you, or the faint reports of your wanderings. Talk about a strange republic, this is surely it. And it's so fragile and fleeting. It's like puppy love and morning dew. It's like the mountain fog -- impenetrable but insubstantial. Anyway, how can we ever get together? We're so completely different from each other!
What? Come to the table, you say. Sit down at the round table. Meet and eat. Eat with strangers? But my mother always said..... Frankly, we would rather pick up a video, crank up the VCR, hit the couch and daze out. Now that's living, isn't it? Isn't that living? Aren't you there too? Nice intimate surroundings? ...No?

Is this where you want to meet us? Here in this assembly? Here is where you preside? These are your friends? You want to turn strangers into friends? But that's going to take time. It's very difficult to be friends among strangers. You're asking a lot. This is very hard -- this searching and finding and losing and searching, and hoping. People can get killed doing this. You'll have to be patient.

I know you have to go. I have to go too. I just want one definite promise from you. You have my vote. I'll get some friends to vote for you too, but I beg you, be with us until it is finished. Be whatever kind of president you have to be, but preside with us. Please, I'll stay for the meal if you will. And they will… You can still be the host. Let's eat together again and you can talk with us about how your presidency is going to work out after all.

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