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THE MUFFIN TIN & THE GOOD BAKER
(The story of Pentecost)
Object Theatre Script, based on Acts 2: 1 – 12 © June 2004, LD McKenzie (adapted from NRSV)
CAST:
Narrator, a muffin tin, assorted kitchen and cleaning gadgets.
PROPS:
Assorted implements from groups above
OTHER CRAFT MATERIALS:
• googly eyes, yarn or easter grass for hair, pipe cleaners, plastic forks for arms, cloth scraps, popsicle sticks,
feathers are fun, and either glue guns or Weldbond glue (get it at Walmart; it’s excellent!) to turn gadgets into puppets.
NARR: Long ago, there was a wandering muffin tin. It was downcast little muffin tin that had lost its sense of purpose.
The muffin tin, with its 12 perfectly symmetrical cups, had recently been in the care of a wonderful baker. A terrific, matchless,
incomparable baker. This baker had kept the muffin tin very busy cranking out all manner of muffins — oatmeal, chocolate
chip, banana, cheese, you name it. They were the most wonderful muffins, and of course anybody who ever tasted one thought
they’d died and gone to heaven.
Sadly, the good baker had passed on, and gone to that big bake shop in the sky. And now the muffin tin did not know what to
do with itself.
MUFFIN TIN: (Heavy sigh.) It’s all just so sad. What shall we do? How about one more stroll around the city?
The good baker had told the muffin tin to stick around near the city of Jerusalem and it would be filled with something more
wonderful than goopy muffin batter.
A small problem had arisen where one of the cups had gotten a bit dented. But one trip to an obliging tinsmith had the dents
all banged out, and the 12th cup was ready to be filled again with delicious batter.
So the tin stuck around.
One day, it happened to be the day of Pentecost which of course is 50 days after Passover, something weird and wonderful did
happen. The muffin tin happened to be all together in one place. (Actually it is in fact rather hard for a muffin tin not
to be together in one place, but that’s how the story goes.)
Suddenly people heard a sound like the rush of a violent wind that seemed to be coming from heaven. It filled the entire house
where the muffin tin was all gathered together. Being a rather heavy collective kind of object, the muffin tin didn’t
get too blown around and successfully held its ground.
As if that wasn’t freaky enough, things got even weirder. Tongues of flame, you know like the spikes from a fire, appeared
among the muffin tin cups and rested on each of them. Again, since the muffin tin wasn’t flammable, this was okay. But
even more bizarre, they began speaking in a language which was distinctly not muffin tin-ese.
As you can well imagine, it’s not like all this weirdness could happen without anyone noticing. After all it was Pentecost
time, and that meant the city was filled with kitchen gadgets from all over the country. It was kind of like fall fair time,
only different.
The visiting gadgets heard all the commotion.
BARBEQUE TOOL: “Isn’t this that shiftless muffin tin we saw around here earlier. How come now I can hear it speaking
barbeque-ese?”
SALAD TONGS: Me too! Only it’s salad tong-ian.
LADLE: Same here! I’m hearing ladle-ish.
MEAT HAMMER: Ditto.
NARR:
It was the same story for the slotted spoons, potato mashers and other gadgets. They all heard their own languages being spoken.
They spent a lot of time, centuries in fact, muttering about what it all could possibly mean.
But the muffin tin knew what it all meant. The wind and fire had been the work of the Holy Spirit.
Now the muffin tin knew what it was supposed to do. It had a new job. It wasn’t supposed to be a muffin tin any more.
It was actually now a cupcake baking tin. Its new specialty would be little birthday cakes.
From now on the former muffin tin would travel around doling out little birthday cakes and telling all kinds of gadgets, not
just kitchen ones, stories of the good baker. And the fruits of cupcake tin’s labours would always sport little flames
on their heads!
THE END
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