Thy Shepherd
INT. JERUSALEM FARMHOUSE - DAY
[The owner of a farm in Jerusalem sits at his desk going over various papers. The farmhouse is small, crude, and made from what appears to be hay and straw. The only light source is an oil lamp seated on the farmer's table. Judging by the appearance of the farmhouse and the raggedy clothing the bearded farmer wears, we can tell we're approximately 2,000 years in the past.]
[Outside the farmhouse, we hear a knock that precedes the humble entrance of none other than Jesus Christ. Replete with beard, magnificent blue eyes, long, flowing robe, and a staff, he enters the hut with his arms open wide in a caring, comforting pose. Light radiates from his body. None of this, however, appears to impress the farmer, who remains seated with a frustrated, pained expression.]
JESUS CHRIST: [speaking in the comforting, calming tone we associate with him] You wished to speak with me, my son?
FARMER: [speaking in a gruff, no-nonsense American accent] Yeah, Jesus...go ahead and have a seat.
[Jesus nods quietly as a bushel of hay magically moves from the back of the small farmhouse to directly behind him. He then takes a seat while keeping his staff in hand.]
FARMER: [nodding with a frustrated expression] You enjoy what you do, Jesus?
JESUS CHRIST: [bows slightly] Ye, my son, I suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in My steps. Ye.
FARMER: [looks down, shakes his head, and sighs] Well, yeah, but I'm not talking about any of that, Jesus. [pauses] Look, I'm gonna be honest with you; you're not a very good sheep shepherd, are you?
[Jesus remains silent but with his typical comforting, peaceful expression. The farmer stands up, sighs, looks around to collect his thoughts, and continues.]
FARMER: [standing with his hands in his robe pockets] It's just that, in the month you've been working for me, I've lost more sheep to coyotes than I have in the last two years combined. We even lost the bell wether, and you know how hard it is to herd sheep without a bell wether. The last shepherd I hired lost only two sheep in one year. [pauses] Under your supervision, I've lost seventeen in a month. Now, I don't mean to be dishonor thou name, but, well...that kinda tells me something.
JESUS CHRIST: [appearing slightly concerned] My son, you question my actions, my divine judgment?
FARMER: [sitting back down, agitated] No, I'm not questioning your "divine judgment." Just your sheep herding skills. It's just that...look, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Take Isaiah down the street. A master lumberman, but have you ever tried to hold a conversation with him? Or Jeremiah...the best butcher in all of Jerusalem, but I pity the man who eats his cooking. And as for you...[pauses]...well, leader of man, a saint, the son of the Almighty God, yes, but a sheep shepherd...? Sorry, Jesus, but I think you're overreaching yourself.
JESUS CHRIST: But thy staff, it comforts you, my son.
FARMER: [sighs and remains seated] Yes, but then, I'm a man, a disciple of God, not a sheep. [looks down as if what he's about to say isn't easy] Look, this isn't an easy decision for me to make, but when I gave you this job, it was mainly as a favor to your father for helping me out during the great drought of A.D. 2, but...Jesus, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go.
[Jesus stands up, bows, stretches his arms out slightly, and appears humble and kind.]
JESUS CHRIST: Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, handling accurately the word of truth. Ye.
FARMER: [as Jesus exits the farmhouse] Hey, if you ever need any recommendations or sacrifices, you know whose dreams to visit!
[The farmer sighs, indicating he feels bad for having fired Jesus. He walks over to a small shelf on the right on which sits three bottles of red wine.]
FARMER: [to himself as he holds a bottle in one hand and a cup in the other] That Jesus is a hardworking boy. I just know he's gonna make something of himself one day.
[When he opens the bottle of wine, a torrent of locusts comes flying out, overwhelming the small shack. Within seconds, the locusts are so thick that they literally drown the farmer.]
[The owner of a farm in Jerusalem sits at his desk going over various papers. The farmhouse is small, crude, and made from what appears to be hay and straw. The only light source is an oil lamp seated on the farmer's table. Judging by the appearance of the farmhouse and the raggedy clothing the bearded farmer wears, we can tell we're approximately 2,000 years in the past.]
[Outside the farmhouse, we hear a knock that precedes the humble entrance of none other than Jesus Christ. Replete with beard, magnificent blue eyes, long, flowing robe, and a staff, he enters the hut with his arms open wide in a caring, comforting pose. Light radiates from his body. None of this, however, appears to impress the farmer, who remains seated with a frustrated, pained expression.]
JESUS CHRIST: [speaking in the comforting, calming tone we associate with him] You wished to speak with me, my son?
FARMER: [speaking in a gruff, no-nonsense American accent] Yeah, Jesus...go ahead and have a seat.
[Jesus nods quietly as a bushel of hay magically moves from the back of the small farmhouse to directly behind him. He then takes a seat while keeping his staff in hand.]
FARMER: [nodding with a frustrated expression] You enjoy what you do, Jesus?
JESUS CHRIST: [bows slightly] Ye, my son, I suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in My steps. Ye.
FARMER: [looks down, shakes his head, and sighs] Well, yeah, but I'm not talking about any of that, Jesus. [pauses] Look, I'm gonna be honest with you; you're not a very good sheep shepherd, are you?
[Jesus remains silent but with his typical comforting, peaceful expression. The farmer stands up, sighs, looks around to collect his thoughts, and continues.]
FARMER: [standing with his hands in his robe pockets] It's just that, in the month you've been working for me, I've lost more sheep to coyotes than I have in the last two years combined. We even lost the bell wether, and you know how hard it is to herd sheep without a bell wether. The last shepherd I hired lost only two sheep in one year. [pauses] Under your supervision, I've lost seventeen in a month. Now, I don't mean to be dishonor thou name, but, well...that kinda tells me something.
JESUS CHRIST: [appearing slightly concerned] My son, you question my actions, my divine judgment?
FARMER: [sitting back down, agitated] No, I'm not questioning your "divine judgment." Just your sheep herding skills. It's just that...look, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Take Isaiah down the street. A master lumberman, but have you ever tried to hold a conversation with him? Or Jeremiah...the best butcher in all of Jerusalem, but I pity the man who eats his cooking. And as for you...[pauses]...well, leader of man, a saint, the son of the Almighty God, yes, but a sheep shepherd...? Sorry, Jesus, but I think you're overreaching yourself.
JESUS CHRIST: But thy staff, it comforts you, my son.
FARMER: [sighs and remains seated] Yes, but then, I'm a man, a disciple of God, not a sheep. [looks down as if what he's about to say isn't easy] Look, this isn't an easy decision for me to make, but when I gave you this job, it was mainly as a favor to your father for helping me out during the great drought of A.D. 2, but...Jesus, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to let you go.
[Jesus stands up, bows, stretches his arms out slightly, and appears humble and kind.]
JESUS CHRIST: Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, handling accurately the word of truth. Ye.
FARMER: [as Jesus exits the farmhouse] Hey, if you ever need any recommendations or sacrifices, you know whose dreams to visit!
[The farmer sighs, indicating he feels bad for having fired Jesus. He walks over to a small shelf on the right on which sits three bottles of red wine.]
FARMER: [to himself as he holds a bottle in one hand and a cup in the other] That Jesus is a hardworking boy. I just know he's gonna make something of himself one day.
[When he opens the bottle of wine, a torrent of locusts comes flying out, overwhelming the small shack. Within seconds, the locusts are so thick that they literally drown the farmer.]