Джером Биксби: The Man From Earth

EDITH: You’re talking as if you believed him.

DAN: Well, it is possible, isn’t it? I mean, anything is possible.

Look, we have two simple choices. We can get all bent out of shape intellectualizing or bench— pressing logic, or we can simply relax and enjoy it. I can listen critically, but I don’t have to make up my mind about anything. But you think you do?

ART: Well, unfortunately, there’s no authorities on prehistory, so we couldn’t stop him there.

EDITH: There are experts on the bible.

HARRY: Chheh, dream on.

DAN: Yeah, thus the lost years of Jesus. He didn’t exist until John put on a hat.

EDITH: I don’t believe in angels and the nativity and the star in the East, but there are stories about the childhood of Jesus.

WILL: History hates a vacuum. Improvisation, some of it very sincere, fills the gaps. It would have been easy to falsify a past back then— A few words, credulity— Time would do the rest.

EDITH: Now you’re talking as if you believed him.

ART: Well, look at the popular myths surrounding the Kennedy assassination in a few short years— You had, uh, conspiracy, mafia, CIA— That’s a mystique that’ll never go away.

DAN: It’s always been a small step from a fallen leader to a god.

EDITH: I don’t think anybody will deify Kennedy. We’re more sophisticated than that.

DAN: We are? We are.

John and Sandy enter.

HARRY: Well, you’re finally fulfilling one prophecy about the millennium, John.

JOHN: What’s that?

HARRY: Here you are again.

John makes himself comfortable between Sandy and the fireplace.

WILL: You like the fire, John.

JOHN: Everywhere I’ve lived, I’ve had a fireplace. Childhood fixation, I guess. Helps me to feel secure.

SANDY: (smiling) There are predators out there.

JOHN: One thing I didn’t pack… I thought I might need it.

John puts on a tape/record of Beethoven’s 7th Symphony.

ART: Wouldn’t Sacre du Printemps be more appropriate?

HARRY What?

DAN: You’ve got…four men of science completely baffled, my friend. We— We don’t know what to make of you.

JOHN: Did you know Voltaire was the first to suggest that the universe was created by a gigantic explosion? I think Paul would agree. And then Goethe was the first to suggest that spiral nebulae were swirling masses of stars. We now call them galaxies. It’s kind of funny how often new concepts of science find their first tentative forms of expression in the arts.

HARRY: So did Beethoven do physics on the side?

SANDY: He spent most of his time lying on the floor in front of his legless piano surrounded by orange peels and apple cores.

HARRY: Now we’re on the floor listening to Beethoven. Full circle.

DAN: Did you have, um… any religious beliefs? Or didn’t you give it much thought?

JOHN: You can’t get there with thought.

DAN: You have faith?

JOHN: In a lot of things.

SANDY: Do you have faith in the future of the race?

JOHN: I’ve seen species come and go. Depends on their balance with the environment.

DAN: We’ve made a mess of it.

JOHN: There’s still time, if we use it well.

EDITH: Christianity has been a worldwide belief for 2,000 years.

JOHN: How long did the Egyptians worship Isis? Or the Sumerians Ishtar? In India, sacred cows wandered freely as reincarnated souls. In a thousand years, they’ll be barbecued and their souls will be in squirrels.

EDITH: (firmly) You weren’t Jesus!

John smiles.

WILL: Oh, Edith.

(rises to his feet)

SANDY: (clearing her throat) If it rains, y—…

JOHN: (interrupting) — It won’t.

ART: How do you know that?

JOHN: I don’t smell it.

LINDA: Were you… I guess a… medicine man?

JOHN: I was a shaman a few times. I… revealed some truths to eat a little better.

EDITH: You think that’s all religion is about… selling hope and survival?

JOHN: The Old Testament sells fear and guilt. The New Testament is a good code of ethics, put into my mouth by poets and philosophers that are much smarter than I am. The message is never practiced. Fairy tales build churches.

ART: What about the name "Jesus"? Did you pull that out of a hat?

JOHN: I called myself John. I almost always do. As tales of the resurrection spread, the name was confused with the Hebrew "Yochanan", meaning "God is gracious". My stay on earth was seen as divine proof of immortality. That led to "God is salvation", or Hebrew "Yahshua", which in translation became my proper name, changing to late Greek, "Iesous", Then to late Latin, "Iesus", and finally medieval Latin, "Jesus". And it was a wonder to watch it all happen.

DAN: Then you didn’t claim to be the Son of God?

JOHN: Began as a schoolhouse and ended as a temple. I said I had a master that was greater than myself. I never said he was my father. I wanted to teach what I learned. I never claimed to be king of the Jews, I never walked on water, I never raised the dead. I never spoke of divine except in the sense of human goodness on earth. (pause)

No wise men came from the East to worship at a manger… I did do a little healing with some eastern medicine I’d learned… That’s it.

DAN: The three wise men began as a myth about the birth of the Buddha.

HARRY: John, I should be home, uh, kissing my wife. We’re all here, trapped by your story…hoping for a…revolution? I don’t know. Are there any, uh…more revelations for us?

John shakes his head, smiling.

DAN: It’s just like old times.

EDITH: (after a pause, glaring at John, and then firmly, again) You. Weren’t. Jesus.

HARRY: Quote the Sermon on the Mount.

JOHN: Which one? Darby? King James? New American Standard?

EDITH: Do you know them all?

JOHN: No one knows the one, not even me. I… I did some teaching on a hill one day. Not that many people stayed.

DAN: But you…

JOHN: Biblical Jesus said, "Who do you think I am?" He gave them a choice. I’m giving you one.

EDITH: (timidly, her voice quivering, eyes tearing up) W-were you?

JOHN: If I said no, could you ever be sure?

Edith’s lips quiver, and she suddenly lets out a sob. Art switches the light on to break the spell.

WILL: (stepping forward) Turn that off. Please.

John turns off the music.

WILL: This has gone far enough.

Edith sobs again.

WILL: It’s gone much too far. These people are very upset. I don’t believe you’re mad, but what you’re saying is not true. That leaves only one explanation. The time has come when you must admit this is a hoax… a lie. Isn’t that true, John?

If you don’t drop this now— If you can— I’ll be convinced that you need a great deal of attention. I can have you committed for observation. You know that. I ask you now— I demand it— That you tell these people the truth. Give them closure. It’s time, John. Please.

Long, tense pause…

JOHN: End of the line. Everybody off.

DAN: Whaaat?!

JOHN: It was a story. (hands raised, rising to his feet and pacing) It was all a story.

Edith sobs in relief.

ART: Good god!

DAN: Another fairy tale?

EDITH: (sobbing) All of it? But what— What in the name of heaven…

ART: (angrily) John, you had us wondering whether you were sane or not, and it’s just a story! Where’d you come off with such a half-baked, asinine idea?

JOHN: At least you’re relieved I’m not a nut.

ART: I’d prefer you were!

JOHN: You gave me the idea. All of you.

DAN: Come again?

JOHN: Edith saw my fake Van Gogh.