Prophetic Theatre: An Ezekiel Retelling
Ezekiel is cast in a play he never auditioned for. And this might be the most challenging show he's ever done.
Author’s note: I originally wrote this story as a short play, which won first place in the 2019 Faith-Based Play Competition at Oklahoma Christian University. I then got to direct it and perform it for a live audience. I’m so excited to be able to bring it to you in story form.
Ellie Heem’s office used to be a black box theater that could sit up to 75 guests comfortably, 100 uncomfortably. It still retained its characteristic black walls, exposed piping on the ceiling, and large obsidian curtains that hide a third of the room from sight.
But while the room’s design was simple, Ellie’s workspace was anything but. Her elegant oak desk rested the room’s center, facing away from the curtains. A plush high-backed velvet armchair—green, swirling with golden designs—served as her throne where she completed all the necessary and important work of a director. Across from her desk was a small, insignificant wooden chair, naked and cowering in fear in front of her throne. A lamp made to look like an olive branch emerged from her desk and cast a yellowish light on her work.
In the stillness of the room, Ellie marked up various scripts she was looking at and made tiny notes in the margins. She wore a nice purple jacket over a flowy white blouse, with purple pants to match her suit. Her dark hair was tightened into a bun.
Moments before the knock on the door, Ellie raised her head. At the sound of the knock, she slowly rose from her seat and maneuvered herself to lean on the side of the desk, facing the entry. She clasped her hands at her waist and waited.
“Come in!”
Ezekiel Priest strolled in cautiously with sweats and a t-shirt, his eyes darting around to the new surroundings.
Ellie smiled. “Ezekiel, I’m so glad you accepted the call to come work for me. And thank you for arriving on such short notice. My name is Ellie Heem, but my friends call me El.”
Ezekiel responded warmly in kind, “I’m glad to be here—I’ve been waiting for my big break for a while. I’m so glad to get a chance to move on from the amateur leagues!”
“We are excited to have you as well.” She extended her hand to the plain seat across her desk. Ezekiel accepted the invite. “Did you find the place okay? I know the new pavement they are putting in on Golden Road is creating a messy detour.”
He squirmed on the hard chair. “Yeah, I found it fine.” His voice trailed off. “I’ll say though, this is quite the place. That chandelier out in the lobby is amazing. It’s like a wheel within a wheel—it’s impossible to really fathom. And those statues—with the multiple faces—it looked like they even moved side to side! That’s quite the entrance!”
The director beamed at the compliment and glided to her oversized chair. “Yes, here at Prophetic Theater we like to create a...” Ellie took a moment to arrive at the right word. “Heavenly atmosphere.”
It was now Ezekiel’s tun to ask a question. “So tell me, what exactly is my role? I was a little confused by the email. And to be honest, I don’t remember auditioning for this part.”
“The confusion is completely understandable. It was a little last minute. We were going to tap one of our other actors, Hosea, but his wife just gave birth to this beautiful baby girl named they named No Mercy. So it’s really a blessing that you are here.”
“As I’ve said, I’m grateful to be here. I’ve been wanting something fun to do to take the edge off my day job as a priest.”
The director nodded as she absent-mindedly shuffled some papers in front of her. She looked up. “I’ll start with the basics. In this company, no one auditions for the parts, instead, we choose those that are a right fit from our own observation. That’s why you never auditioned.”
“So… you’ve been scouting me?”
“In a manner of speaking. I saw potential in you to fill the role just right. As for your specific role, we’ll describe that in due time. You must first know, however, that the Prophetic Theater is not like any theater company you are used to. The whole world is our stage, and from this platform, we like to proclaim certain messages that are important for the world to understand. I know, this probably doesn’t make sense—but trust me, I know the plans I have for you.”
Ezekiel tried to soak it all in by scrunching his eyes tight as his mind processed everything. “Yeah, it’s a little hard to wrap my brain around.” He opened his eyes. “Um, this is a paying gig, right?”
Ellie let out a brief chuckle. “While ultimately we think the experience itself is the best form of payment--yes, you get your check every other Friday.”
“Sorry, I just had to be sure. I took some time off from work because you said this was going to be a big project. I’m ready to get started whenever.”
“A swell idea.” Ellie stood at her desk and eyed the curtain that divided the room. “Let me get my assistant. Ms. Malak! Ms. Malak, can you please bring the scroll?”
In no time at all, Angel Malak fluttered into the room from behind the curtain holding a silver tray with dramatic flair. Angel’s hair was long and golden blonde. A golden hair comb headband sat atop the crown of her head, glistening like a halo. She had on a completely white dress with golden wedges on her feet. On the tray rested a single white scroll rolled up tight and bound with golden string. There is only one word to describe the woman that waltzed into the office: angelic.
The assistant placed the tray on the edge of the desk before scurrying over to stand right next to Ellie.
“Ezekiel, this is Angel Malak. She is one of our production assistants here.”
Angel gave a half-hearted wave. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much. I think. I’m still a little confused about what exactly we are doing but—”
“Ezekiel, stand on your feet and I will speak with you,” Ellie barked.
Ezekiel lurched at the suddenness of her voice but stood at the harshness of the tone of her voice.
“Uh, okay. Sure,” he mumbled as he stood up.
Angel picked up the tray from the side of the table and went directly next to Ezekiel, right in his personal space bubble.
With gravitas, Ellie walked out from behind the desk and waved her arms in exaggerated, flowy motions as she presented her speech.
“I need you to understand that you are entering into the most important role of your lifetime. You are signing up to impact the world with an important message. It’s not an easy-to-hear message, and these people that you will be performing for are stubborn. Many will probably close their ears. And as cliché as it is, you might get rotten figs thrown at you.”
Ezekiel tentatively raised his hand. “That sounds a little overly dramatic—even for a theater director. That kind of stuff isn’t really going to happen, right?”
Next to him, Angel started to snicker to herself, but she shut it down as soon as Ellie’s glare met her eyes.
A strange chill filled the room and Ezekiel could hear goosebumps rising on his skin. Ellie didn’t offer a response. “Now please take the scroll.”
The forceful voice again compelled him to act swiftly. Ezekiel picked up the scroll off the tray as Angel held it still. He looked it over for a second and gently tugged at the golden string.
“Oh, is this scroll the script for the performance? You know, I had this crazy idea that it would be easier to read things on paper if we instead stacked smaller pieces of papers on top of each other and bound one side. That way, we wouldn’t have to roll it to the right place, we could flip to the right place. We could call the invention a ‘flip.’ Could be revolutionary.”
Ellie went on as if Ezekiel hadn’t said a word.
“Now eat it.”
“I’m sorry, pardon me?” the actor cocked a questioning eyebrow.
“I would like you to devour the scroll please. This will prepare you for your task.”
“Wait, seriously?” Ezekiel held the scroll away from him.
She nodded.
“You know, I don’t think that’s a good idea. In fact, I’m doing the Daniel Plan and this doesn’t look like a vegetable.”
Angel, meanwhile, half-haphazardly placed the tray on the desk and nudged Ezekiel with her elbow. “Oh, you better get used to eating weird stuff! Trust me!”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Something about Angel’s mischievous grin freaked him out. “Ellie, uh, El--do I really have to do this?”
“It’s symbolically very important for our relationship and for your duties. It’s the best preparation for what you are about to embark on.”
“My duties... Well, I’ll get paid on Friday… Okay then, here goes nothing...”
Though hesitantly, Ezekiel began to put the scroll in his wide-open mouth. But before he made much progress, Ellie held up her hand and cut him off.
“That’s enough now. Please put the scroll back on the tray.”
Angel grabbed the tray again and held it up to the confused actor as he dropped it there.
She chuckles snidely. “I can’t believe he almost did it!”
Ellie joined her assistant with her own laugh. “Yes. We really did have him going!”
Ezekiel furrowed his brow. “Okay. I see what’s going on. ‘Ha. Ha.’ Punk the new kid, sure. Can we just get started now? For real this time.”
“I apologize for the joke. We can start. For real. Please take a seat while I explain what I have in store for you. Ms. Malak, you’re on book.”
“Roger that,” Angel said with a nod. She picked up the scroll, gracefully untied its string, and rolled it open.
Now that Ezekiel was nestled again in the uncomfortable seat, Ellie took command of the room and roamed as she spoke. The movement energized her words, filled them with evident passion.
“It’s probably time I properly explain what we do at Prophetic Theater. Our main mission is to promote good values, call out injustices, and warn of impending destruction if society does not transform their ways.”
She looked at Ezekiel to gauge his reaction. He gave a half-hearted grin.
“We believe that communication of these important messages shouldn’t just be contained to a stage—so we act them out in the real world. It’s sort of ‘street theater’ meets ‘corner preaching.’ In this way, art imitates life and then life imitates art.”
Now she paused and turned her whole body to Ezekiel, clearly expecting a response.
“Is this operation one of those so-called ‘edutainment’ groups? They always teach life lessons in the cheesiest ways imaginable. Are their puppets? Vegetables? Nonsensical songs filled with atrocious slant rhymes?”
“Trust me,” she declared sternly with eyes narrowed. “There is nothing cheesy about what we do at the Prophetic Theater.” Angel nodded in agreement. Ellie continued, “You might have heard of that guy who walked around naked for three years while preaching to the nation?”
“That was your doing?”
“Yes, Isaiah is one of our talented actors. Great guy. Rare too, since when we put out a casting call, he had a rare enthusiasm to do the job without even knowing what he was going to be sent to do. Just raised his hand and said, ‘Here I am, cast me!’”
“So...” Ezekiel nervously looked down at his clothes. “What kind of things are you going to have me do for this...project?”
Ellie lite up with a fire. “We have some really good ideas actually! Some of my best work, if I do say so myself. Angel, why don’t you read a few?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Angel squinted at the scroll and muttered until she found a few ideas she liked. “Let’s see... Binding you with ropes... shaving your head with a sword... digging through a wall... These are a few of the highlights.”
Before she even finished, Ezekiel was already shaking his head. He slowly rose from his chair. “I’m a little confused here. I’m not sure you have the right guy. Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat. You know, I did it last season. That’s my kind of acting gig. I don’t really have experience with... whatever this is.”
Ellie went to him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “You will be fine. I am here. Those were only some of the ideas—not all are like that. For instance, we have a performance idea where you play with toys, so some of your work will literally be fun and games.”
“Now that sounds more interesting. If it’s okay, can we start with that one today? Feels like a good first rehearsal piece to ease into the part.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the director replied. “This is a really powerful piece. You’ll love it. It has a moving message about the consequences of disobedience. Angel, why don’t you go get the props while I start to coach Ezekiel through the scene.”
“Can do, El. Should I get the ingredients for the food or just the props?”
“This is just a rough run-through. Just grab the toy material. And for you, Ezekiel, I’d recommend some stretching. You might be in an uncomfortable position for a while.”
Angel put the scroll back down on the tray and left it on the desk. She spun on her heels and walked back through the curtain she came through. Ezekiel could faintly hear rummaging in the back.
Ezekiel moved out from behind the desk to give himself some space as he puffed out his chest and presented his arm muscles.
“I don’t want to brag, but I’ve been following this new Samson Workout routine and I gotta say, it’s working. It claims that after just 30 days you can tie torches to 300 fox tails! And I’m on day 23.”
She gave him a pitiful glance. “I still recommend stretching. I do believe I know what’s best for you and this role, but you have a license to do as you please. As you stretch, I’ll go ahead and explain our process. In our performances, as the director, I do like set structures in place. However, even though I’m the creator, I do encourage some improv in the creations, so you are free to express your own individuality as long as it aligns with my general will for the play.”
“Oh, I love improv!” Ezekiel declared as he pulled his foot to the back of his thigh and raised the opposite hand as high as he could in the air. “In fact, me and some of my priest buddies once started an improv group called the Covenant Comics. But that didn’t last long. I admittedly did a particularly insensitive impression of our forefather Aaron and the whole Golden Calf debacle, which some of them didn’t really appreciate.”
The director stopped pacing and went over to stand next to a fuzzy area rug.
“So for this scene, you are going to play pretend that there is a siege on Jerusalem. We’ll have you engrave a city on a brick, then set up a toy army attacking the city with battle rams, wall ramps, and even little tiny camps. You better be good with woodworking because it’s going to take some creativity!”
“I’ll be honest, the whole scroll prank freaked me out, but this sounds like so much fun!”
“And the fun is just beginning.” Angel emerged from behind the curtain with a wood box carried in both hands. “Here are all the supplies. I started to make the little stick figures, but I wasn’t sure what scale you wanted to set them.”
“No worries, Angel. We’ll let Ezekiel construct the props to his choosing.”
Ezekiel took a look into the box and excitedly turned to Ellie. “I haven’t played with toys in so long! I remember as a kid, I had this little Moses doll—uh, action figure—that I would pretend could part bowls of water in two.”
Ellie smiled politely in response. “Angel, go ahead and place the box on the ground. Can you check the scroll to see what Ezekiel does after he sets up the siege?”
Following the instructions of her boss, Angel glided over to the rug and set down the supplies. Then she went over to the desk to pick up the scroll. She eyeballed the scroll closely after opening it. “Uh, let’s see. He first places the iron pan between the brick and the toy army.”
As she spoke, Ezekiel headed to the carpet and got down on his knees. He picked up the brick from the box and sat it out on the rug. Then he took out the iron pan, rolled it gently in the air, then set it on the brick.
Still with her eyes on the scroll, Angel continued. “Right, so then you just lie down on your side.”
Silently, Ezekiel did as he was told. He leaned over and snuggled into the carpet on his side, his head resting on his outstretched arm.
Angel glanced over at him. “Yup, that’s right, just like that. And then you.... Let’s see... Yes, and you continue to lie down on your side for 390 days.”
At the last command, Ezekiel jumped up from his semi-comfortable position. He pointed accusatorily at Angel. “You’re kidding again, right?”
“Hey don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger! She wrote it!” Angel aimed her own finger at Ellie.
Both Angel and Ezekiel turned to the director to await her response.
Ellie sighed deeply and folded her hands in front of her. She looked intently into Ezekiel’s eyes and with maternal affection, described her vision. “Ezekiel, it’s going to be alright. 390 days will go by so fast; you’ll lose track of time.”
Ezekiel started to protest but she kept on talking.
“The 390 days symbolize the number of years of Israel’s punishment. After that, you can switch to laying on your other side, and you’ll only need to do that 40 days. That will be like nothing compared to laying on the other side for over a year, I assure you! The 40 days symbolizes the punishment of Judah.”
“But—” Ezekiel was cut off again.
“It’s the perfect symbolic representation if you think about it! Oh, one more thing: while you’re doing all of this, you’ll need to hold out your arms and prophesy against the little fake Jerusalem you made.”
“That’s insane! I can’t do any of that!” Ezekiel unconsciously took steps toward the door, weighing his options on whether he should bolt.
Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Jobs at the Prophetic Theater are not usually fun nor are they terribly pleasant, yet they impart important instruction to the audience. Your discomfort pays off when the audience understands the real picture of what is happening in their own lives.”
“But that payoff happens after I spend over a year laying down on my side! A year! On my side. That’s gonna leave bed sores worse than boils.”
“We’ll also make sure when you are laying down, you’ll be bound by ropes so you can’t turn one side to the other while you are completing your siege. It’ll keep you from ruining the scene.”
“I’m sorry, this is ridiculous! What kind of director are you?” Ezekiel demanded to know; his face hot with frustration.
“A good one,” Ellie said matter-of-factly.
Angel stepped forward. “Hey, at least he is still reacting better than Jonah did when we gave him that really simple gig in Nineveh. That guy wasted no time in buying a one-way ticket to the complete opposite side of the world!”
Ellie was still looking at Ezekiel. Her face softened and again she responded tenderly and soothingly. “I hear your concerns, Ezekiel. But know that I am with you. After this whole process, you will truly know who I am.”
“And what about the other logistical problems. What am I going to eat?”
“Everything has been thought of,” Ellie replied. “We’ll give you the ingredients for some multi-grain bread you’ll eat each day, and you’ll have an allowance of water too. You will be taken care of during this time.”
He tried to will himself to steady his breath, but it wasn’t working. “But how am I going to cook this bread while I’m lying on my side for all eternity? Hmm?”
For the first time in the whole meeting, Ellie began to look flustered. “Well, you will, uh, cook it over a fire of...human byproducts.”
“Human byproducts? What do you mean?” Ezekiel cocked an eyebrow.
“Oh, well, you know...waste from a human. The product of defecation. Fecal matter.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
Angel butted in. “Poop! She wants you to cook your bread over a fire of human poop.” She laughed at the steam coming from Ezekiel’s ears.
“What!” Ezekiel screamed as he threw his arms up in the air. “That is so gross! I’ve never defiled myself like that in all my life. There are just so many things wrong with this scenario. Absolutely unhinged. Why would you even write this?”
Despite Ezekiel’s harsh accusations, Ellie regained her confidence. “It symbolizes that the people of Israel are living their lives unclean, defiled by pagan nations who they care more about impressing than they do about justice for their own people. They are eating their fill of food, but it’s infected by those that don’t worship the true God. These people are forgetting who their God is and instead are trying to look cool by worshiping other gods. It’s a really great metaphor, if you think about it.”
“Yes, sure, it’s a great metaphor. But it’s still super gross for me to act it out.”
“Okay. How about we compromise, and I’ll let you cook the bread over cow...excrement. Is that better?”
“No. Not really.”
“The matter is settled then. Angel, make a note, we are going to need to go search for the byproduct of a cow to round out our prop list.”
Angel frowned at her boss. “Wow that sounds like a super fun job that everyone would want,” she replied sarcastically.
“Well, Ezekiel, I’d say you need to practice some of your laying. I want to shoot for the opening night to be this Sabbath.” Ellie spun on her heels and went to her desk where she sorted some of her papers.
Meanwhile, Ezekiel just stared blankly off into space.
Seeing the befuddled actor unable to even move, Angel motioned toward one of the corners of the office. “Hey Ezekiel, come here for a second.”
Ezekiel followed her. He attempted to open his mouth but no sound came out. He was lost in a thousand thoughts about this insane assignment.
Angel let out a deep breath and took hold of Ezekiel’s shoulders.
“Ezy. Can I call you Ezy?”
Ezekiel shook his head from side to side.
“Okay then, Ezekiel. Listen. Word of advice about the director. El might seem mean, might seem crazy. And yeah, sometimes I have no idea where these wild ideas come from. But the thing is, she’s a good director. She knows what she’s doing. You’re the actor here. El is the creator of this drama. Ultimately, listening to her is your best bet. But don’t be shy about giving your input and a little improv here and there. She does appreciate your thoughts, though at the end of the day, go with El’s plan. It’ll all work out, no matter how crazy it seems now.”
A few moments of silence passed. Then Ezekiel nodded slowly, his heart rate returning to normal. “Thanks Angel. I know you’re right. It’s totally bonkers, but I guess I’ll give it a shot. I need the cash, besides. And I guess it’s a valuable lesson to teach.”
Angel patted him on the back, and they walked over to Ellie’s desk.
“So if I’m going to do this performance, I have some rules. No encore. Even if the audience begs on their knees! And there’s no way I’m taking this thing on the road. I’ll do the one show, just 430 nights only. Not one day more. Also, after I’m done, I want a deep-tissue massage and the best physical therapist in all of Judea!”
Ellie smiled ear to ear. “Of course, of course. That’s reasonable. Besides, I have lots of other potential gigs in store for you. Things you’ve never imagined.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
Gesturing around the room, the director announced. “Welcome aboard, Ezekiel, to the Prophetic Theater! What a time we will have.”
The actor wrung out his wrists. “I think I will start constructing my toy army now. Should I start with infantry or archers?”
Angel jumped up. “Oh! Oh! Make a catapult! No, better yet, a trebuchet!”
Ezekiel shrugged. “I can do that.”
While the actor went to his knees and began gathering sticks from the box of props, Ellie went to hover over him. She spoke above him.
“Start your construction, my prophet. I have some cosmic affairs to tend to. My former business partner is doing another one of those ‘I bet I can get this guy to curse you’ by causing a bunch of suffering. Ugh! Sometimes I just want to throw him in an abyss!”
Ellie and Angel proceeded out of the room through the curtains, leaving Ezekiel alone with his toys.
Ezekiel craned his neck to see if the two women had left. After listening a moment longer, he put down the sticks in his hands and stood. Looking down at his belly, he sheepishly said to himself, “I really need to get in better shape if I’m going to do this!”