WILL: Very. I would stake my reputation he is as sane as I am, so why does he persist in such a story?
JOHN: There must be a reason, though.
WILL: Unless I imagined it all? Is that possible?
JOHN: I think you’re as sane as he is.
WILL: Oh, god, I— (laughs) No.
Did you ever find it prudent to worship yourself rather than be thought a heretic? That would be something!
JOHN: At the time Christianity was considered heresy, I had to pretend other faiths.
WILL: And what does Jesus have to say to those present who find it difficult to believe in Him?
JOHN: Believe in what he tried to teach, without rigmarole. Piety is not what the lessons bring to people. It’s the mistake they bring to the lessons.
(slowly getting up and putting on his jacket)
Well, it’s getting to be night. I still have stuff to carry and a long drive.
SANDY: I’ll help.
DAN: John, do you have a destination in mind? Never mind. I won’t ask.
JOHN: Thank you.
(exits with Sandy, carrying boxes)
Scene 1b: Debate
WILL: Anyone mentally ill can imagine a fantastic background— Even an entire life— and sincerely believe it. The man who thinks he is Napoleon does believe it. His true identity has taken a backseat to his delusion and the need for it. If that’s the case with John, there is a grave disorder.
ART: Organized brilliantly. He’s got an answer for everything.
WILL: It might involve rejection of his father, of his entire early past, replaced by this fantasy.
HARRY: He says he can’t remember his father.
WILL: Precisely. Why?
LINDA: You said he was sane.
WILL: Did I?
DAN: Do you think that perhaps our caveman has a monkey on his back?
EDITH: Drugs?
HARRY: No, no, no, no. I’ve done a lot of consulting work with the narcotics division. I’ve seen people…tripping, strung out— Whatever’s up with John, it isn’t that. I’ve looked for signs— None.
LINDA: Could cavemen really talk?
DAN: We think that language came into existence sixty thousand years ago. The structure of Stone Age culture is evidence of the ability to communicate… verbally.
Harry wolf whistles, clicks his tongue.
HARRY: Oh, shut up.
Scene 1c: Sandy
John is looking at the stars.
JOHN: Maybe it’d be easier if I were.
SANDY: Crazy? No.
Coyote howls. John then looks at Sandy.
Scene 2: The Last Spell
DAN: That is fascinating, though, isn’t it, a brave attempt to teach Buddhism in the West. It’s no wonder he failed. We’re not ready for it.
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.