Samuel Gentle, the groundskeeper for The Church of the Holy Comforter, has heard God's call three times. The first was in a field off the Pamet Roads in Truro while accompanying his father on a walk; the second was in the aftermath of a terrible bus accident with his friend Inez Castill while he was minister of a small adobe church about forty miles outside of Albuquerque at the foot of the Cebolleta; and the third was the birth of his daughter, Ariel, covered all over in a white-gold swirl of hair. Samuel has heard this voice but struggles to comprehend its mystery and his own rage and bewilderment at loss. He wants to believe that "grace enters the soul through a wound." As Ariel grows into a child of transcendent inner beauty and strength, Samuel regains his own faith and discovers what is most holy.
There is absolutely no reason for this to have been written in the form of a play. Really, there isn't. If you handed it to me and told me it was a book of poetry, it would have gotten a 3 star from me, for the unique matter and pretty phrasing alone. But it's just so stilted as a play! No way to act something like this without a grievous and bizarre sense of preciousness.
An Almost Holy Picture is about a man undergoing a crisis of faith, though undergoing may not be the right word, as this crisis has been lingering for a very long time. Samuel Gentle heard the voice of God in a New England cranberry bog when he was a boy and thereupon decided to become a priest. His calling takes him to the wide open spaces of New Mexico, but a terrible bus accident, in which several children are killed, leads him to question not just the priesthood but larger issues of religion.
It's a one-man play. Samuel's stories fascinate with their detail and their questing moral purpose. But what, finally, is that story about? Frankly, I'm not sure: McDonald covers lots of intriguing ground here, but I don't know what she's trying to tell us.