ENSEMBLE (ALL): How does a baby, sinless, Born to a virgin in a nowhere village— Nazareth, hidden from privilege— Grow up to flip the tables of the system we live in? ⸻ PETER (with intensity): He was twelve, teaching rabbis in the temple, Knew the scripture, knew the people, But he stayed gentle. Told me, “Follow me,” I dropped my net and I did— He taught fishermen how to fish for souls and live. ⸻ THOMAS (doubtful, sly flow): I saw him heal the blind, make the mute speak, But I still had questions. Nah, I ain’t weak. I needed proof, not just a preacher with a plan. He let me touch the holes in his hands, man. ⸻ JAMES (laid back, confident): He turned water into wine—at a wedding, no less. Walked on water, fed five thousand under stress. Preached peace, dropped parables like they were bombs. And still made time for kids and single moms. ⸻ JOHN (smooth, emotional tone): He loved deep. I felt it in his breath. Laid his head on my chest before his death. They call me “beloved,” but I was just a friend To a man who said love doesn’t break—it bends. ⸻ JUDAS (gritty, DMX energy): Yo—He picked me too, yeah, me—Judas. Kept the money bag, thought I could use this. Thirty silver coins and I sold out the Lamb, Kissed him in the dark, ran when it hit the fan. Regret cut deep—I ain’t proud of my part. But don’t forget: I was there from the start. ⸻ ANDREW (fast-paced, no-nonsense): He flipped tables, cracked whips, took no bribes. He said truth over comfort, let the people decide. Scribes tried to trap him, Pharisees cursed— He said, “He who is last will one day be first.” ⸻ ENSEMBLE (chanting in rhythm): Born in a stable. Raised by the poor. Baptized in the river, Then he opened the door— To the blind, the broken, the lost and the lame, Then the cross called his name… ⸻ MATTHEW (calm, precise like a scholar): Three years on foot, no home, no bed. Taught with fire, broke the bread. He called the sinners, the tax collectors, the whores. Said, “I came for the sick, not the saints in the stores.” ⸻ SIMON THE ZEALOT (rebel tone): He ain’t soft—he was dangerous, man. They feared his voice more than swords in hand. Romans flinched, priests shook, I saw it clear— This carpenter had the power they feared. ⸻ ENSEMBLE (gathering, overlapping voices): They crowned him with thorns. They nailed him down. Laid him in a tomb Outside the town. ⸻ PHILIP (quiet but firm): But the grave couldn’t hold him. The stone rolled back. Sunday morning— He rose. That’s fact. ⸻ JOHN (returns, soft then rising): He wept. He bled. He broke and bled again. And still forgave— Even as it all caved in. ⸻ ENSEMBLE (ALL – final crescendo): He lived like a servant, He died like a king. He left us a Spirit That taught us to sing. He flipped the script. He shattered the plan. So we ask again— Who was this man?
