My Brother, My Lord

My Brother, My Lord

Character: James, brother of Jesus, speaking directly to the audience as though in an intimate gathering.

Setting: A simple room in Jerusalem, sparsely lit, giving a sense of solitude and contemplation. James stands alone, addressing the audience.

James:

(Pauses, looks down, takes a deep breath, then looks up at the audience with a somber expression)

My Brother...my Brother

It’s strange, isn’t it? To say those words with a heart so divided. A man can live his whole life alongside another and think he knows him — because blood is thick, because we’re family.

But my brother, my Lord?

(Pauses)

I grew up with Jesus. Just the boy down the street in Nazareth. We ran through fields, we played with sticks, with stones. I watched him in the synagogue, studying the Law, listening so intently. The teachers marveled at him.

But I never marveled, no. (smirks, almost laughing to himself) I just saw him as my brother. Nothing more.

When he began preaching, I laughed. Who was he to say such things? A carpenter’s son, acting like a prophet? I thought him deluded, even arrogant. The whole family thought so. Even Mother would come to me, and I could see the pain in her eyes, knowing, yet not knowing.

(Pauses, glancing down, struggling with a memory)

I remember the day when he came to Capernaum, preaching to the crowds. We tried to pull him aside, called him out of the crowd. I wanted him to stop, to come back home, to return to the life we understood, the life we built together.

(Voice breaks, then regains composure)

And do you know what he said to us, his own family? He looked out over that crowd and said, “Who are my mother and my brothers? Whoever does the will of my Father in heaven, they are my mother, my brothers, my sisters.”

(A bitter pause)

I felt betrayed, hurt, as if I’d lost him, as if he’d left us for a dream I couldn’t see. A world he kept talking about, this “kingdom.” A kingdom he believed was breaking into our world through him. But who could see it? I couldn’t see it.

(Long pause, then quietly)

And then, the cross.

(He closes his eyes, visibly moved, as though reliving the memory)

That day, that dark, dark day. They led him up to Golgotha, and I, his own brother, stood in the shadows. Watching. Unable to move, unable to speak.

(Pauses, voice quivering)

Why? Why didn’t I go to him? Why didn’t I stand beside him? Why did I watch as he carried that cross, as he stumbled under its weight?

(Opens eyes, almost angry)

Because I was ashamed! Yes. Ashamed. Ashamed to be known as the brother of a condemned man. A fool’s brother, a madman’s brother. That’s what they called him: “King of the Jews,” “Blasphemer,” “Imposter.” I didn’t know who he was. My own brother… and I didn’t know him.

(Pauses, regains control)

And then, three days later, they said the tomb was empty. They said He was alive.

(Voice rises with emotion, almost incredulous)

Alive! I heard the words, but they felt like stones in my mouth. How could this be? How could my own brother be the Christ?

(Pauses, then begins to pace)

I stayed away. I couldn’t bring myself to go to Him. I feared what I would see if I looked Him in the eyes. What would He say? What would I say?

(Slows, voice softens)

And then He came to me. Just as I am now, alone, afraid, and full of questions, He came to me.

(Smiles, eyes glistening)

I saw His face, His hands, still bearing the scars. He looked at me… with eyes full of compassion, full of grace.

(Pauses, looking down)

“James,” He said. “Brother.” As if I was the only one He came for, as if all the world had melted away and only we remained.

(Voice breaking)

And in that moment, I knew. I knew the truth, as clearly as I know the beating of my own heart. My brother, my Lord. He had risen. He had done all that he promised.

(Voice grows stronger, more passionate)

And I understood, finally, what he meant when He spoke of that “Kingdom.” A Kingdom of the heart, a Kingdom of souls, where God reigns not with power and might but with love and mercy! Where the broken are mended, where the lost are found, where the sinner is forgiven.

(Pauses, tears in his eyes)

I was lost, and He found me. He found me, and now I am His. Not just as a brother, but as a follower, as one called to proclaim His Name.

(Raises hands, looking upward)

Oh, how blind I was, standing so close yet seeing so little. How small were my doubts in the light of His glory! He walked with us, He spoke of heaven’s mysteries, He healed, He loved ... and I, we, mocked Him. We laughed at Him, we called Him mad.

(Voice softens again)

But He never turned us away. Not once. Even in His last moments, even as He hung on that cross, He looked down and prayed, “Father, forgive them.” And now I understand. He loved us to the end, even those who doubted Him.

(A long pause, letting silence settle)

And now, my friends, He calls us to believe. To leave our fears, our doubts, our small, comfortable lives, and step into something holy. To be part of His work, His Kingdom. To follow Him, not just in words but with everything we are.

(Looks directly at the audience, with conviction)

He lives. And because He lives, I live. Not as the man I was, not as the doubter, the skeptic, the brother who once mocked his own flesh and blood. I live now as a believer, as one redeemed, as one forgiven.

(Pauses, looking around the room as if meeting each person’s eyes)

And you, He calls you too. To see Him, not just as a story, not as a legend, but as the living, breathing Christ, the Son of the Living God. He calls us all to be part of His Kingdom, not a kingdom of stone and sword, but a Kingdom of the heart. A Kingdom where love reigns.

(Pauses, voice softer but filled with urgency)

Will you answer? Will you believe? He calls each of you, as He called me. He’s knocking at the door of your heart. Will you open it?

(Closes eyes, as if praying, then looks up once more)

This is the testimony of James, the brother who doubted, who scoffed, who turned away. But this is also the testimony of James, the believer, the follower, the one who, in the end, could say with every breath in his body:

My brother… my Lord.

(Bows head, and the room falls into silence as lights fade)

End of Play

This spoken word piece captures James's emotional journey of skepticism, regret, and ultimately, faith, allowing the audience to walk alongside him as he comes to see his brother as both family and Savior.