Morton Smith Movie

[Secret Alias]

Movie Title: "The Enigma of Morton Smith"

Scene 1: "A Glimpse into the Past"

Location: Dimly lit, cozy office filled with piles of books and ancient manuscripts. The walls are adorned with religious iconography and several stained-glass pieces, reminiscent of Smith's family legacy. The camera pans over a photo of a young Morton Smith, transitioning to the bustling streets of early 20th-century Philadelphia.

Time: Late 1920s, transitioning between past and present.
Characters: Morton Smith (as a child and then as an adult), his father Rupert Henry Smith, a voiceover narrator.

Opening Shot: Close-up on a stained-glass window depicting an intricate religious scene, the sunlight casting colorful reflections on the wooden floor of Morton's father's office. The camera slowly zooms out to reveal Morton, a curious and somewhat reserved child, peering intently at the glass.
Voiceover (narrator): "In the shadows of Philadelphia's burgeoning skyline, where the sacred and the secular intertwined, young Morton Smith's journey began. A journey that would lead him to challenge the very foundations of Christian history."

Scene Transition: The scene shifts to Morton as an adult, hunched over a desk littered with papers and ancient texts. He’s scribbling notes frantically, surrounded by the aura of mystery and discovery.

Dialogue:

Morton Smith (Adult, muttering to himself): "There's more to history than meets the eye. The truth... it's hidden in these texts, waiting to be unveiled."

Voiceover (narrator): "Morton's quest for truth was not just an academic pursuit. It was a journey shaped by a legacy of artistry and faith, and an insatiable curiosity about the past."

Flashback: A series of quick scenes showing Morton's grandfather working on stained glass, his father discussing business, and a young Morton attending a Swedenborgian academy, setting the stage for his complex relationship with religion and scholarship.

Voiceover (narrator): "From the stained-glass windows of his grandfather's workshop to the hallowed halls of academia, Morton was destined to leave an indelible mark on the study of ancient texts. But the path to discovery is never straightforward."

Return to Present: Morton, now clearly agitated, finds a peculiar reference in one of the texts.

Morton Smith (Adult): "This... this could change everything."
Voiceover (narrator): "And so begins the tale of Morton Smith, a man whose discovery would ignite a storm of controversy, challenge the very heart of Christian doctrine, and forever alter our understanding of faith's mysteries."

Closing of Scene: The camera zooms in on Morton's face, a mix of excitement and apprehension, as the screen fades to black, setting the tone for a movie that delves deep into history, belief, and the search for truth.

Scene 2: "A Scholar in the Making"

Location: Bryn Athyn Academy, a picturesque educational establishment nestled in a Swedenborgian community, surrounded by lush greenery and the imposing yet serene Bryn Athyn Cathedral in the background.

Time: Early 1930s, a bright spring day.

Characters: Young Morton Smith, several classmates including some from the Pitcairn family, and Mr. Elsworth, a revered teacher known for his wisdom and gentle teaching method.

Scene Opening: Classmates are gathered outside under the blooming cherry trees, books in hand, engaged in a lively discussion about their latest project on religious symbolism. Morton stands out, not just for his intense focus but for the depth of his insights.

Dialogue:

Classmate 1: "So, Morton, how did you manage to decipher the symbolism in the cathedral's windows? It’s like you have a secret key to all these mysteries!"

Morton Smith (smiling modestly): "It’s all about understanding the stories behind the glass. Each color, each figure tells a part of a larger tale. Just like the journeys to heaven we learn about here, you have to look beyond the surface."

Classmate 2 (admiringly): "That's so cool. You always see things we don't, Morton."

Mr. Elsworth (approaching): "Speaking of seeing things others don't, I've heard about your recent achievement, Morton. Winning both the Oratorical Prize and the Sons of the Academy Gold Medal is no small feat."

Morton Smith: "Thank you, Mr. Elsworth. I just love delving into the mysteries of our faith and history. It's fascinating how much there is to learn and explore."

Mr. Elsworth (nodding approvingly): "Indeed, Morton. Your passion for learning and excellence reflects the very essence of what we try to instill here. Emanuel Swedenborg himself would have been proud of your curiosity and dedication."

Flash Forward: A brief montage showing Morton's various achievements at the academy, from winning awards to leading the debate team to victory, all interspersed with scenes of him alone, lost in thought, reading and writing fervently.

Cut to Morton receiving his awards at graduation, a look of ambition and dreamy contemplation in his eyes.

Voiceover (narrator): "Morton Smith's early years were marked by a voracious appetite for knowledge, a deep connection to his Swedenborgian roots, and a budding brilliance that would one day lead him to challenge the foundations of religious scholarship. But even as he excelled, his mind was already wandering to far-off lands, to ancient texts, to mysteries yet unsolved."

Closing Shot: Morton standing alone in the emptying ceremony hall, holding his medals, gazing out the window at the Bryn Athyn Cathedral silhouetted against the setting sun.
Dialogue:

Morton Smith (to himself): "There’s so much more out there. Jerusalem, ancient texts... My journey's just beginning."

Scene Fades Out.

Scene 3: A Spiritual Crossroads

Location: The Oratory of St. Mary and St. Michael, a dimly lit, ornately decorated room filled with the scent of incense, liturgical candles, and the echoes of a quiet, contemplative atmosphere. The walls are adorned with Baroque Italian furniture, and the table is set with the remnants of a gourmet meal.

Time: December 1938, a cold evening.

Characters: Morton Smith, Father Frederic Hastings Smyth, and a group of Harvard students gathered for political discussion and Mass.

Scene Opening: Students are seated around a large oak table, discussing Marxist theory and Christianity's role in the revolution. Father Smyth is leading the discussion, passionately speaking about the kingdom of heaven on Earth. Morton Smith, newly initiated into this world, listens intently, his face a mask of contemplation and intrigue.

Dialogue:

Father Smyth: "Comrades, the fusion of our faith and the revolutionary spirit of Marxism is not only possible; it's necessary for the salvation of humanity. We must be the vanguard of this spiritual revolution."

Student 1: "But Father, how can we reconcile the atheistic nature of Marxism with our Christian beliefs?"

Father Smyth (smiling warmly): "Ah, my dear student, that's where the beauty of dialectics comes in. We engage, we challenge, and in the end, we enlighten. Atheism in Marxism is but a stage, a cocoon from which a true understanding of divinity can emerge."

Morton Smith raises his hand, drawing Father Smyth's attention.

Morton Smith: "Father Smyth, if I may, your vision of a proletarian heaven on Earth is compelling. But what about the individual's journey to divine truth? How does personal transformation fit into this grand scheme?"

Father Smyth (with a twinkle in his eye): "Morton, excellent question! Individual transformation is the bedrock of societal change. Each one of us is a 'divided or half person,' as Swedenborg puts it. Our journey towards completeness, towards finding our 'conjugial partner,' is parallel to humanity's march towards the kingdom of heaven. It's all interconnected."

The room falls into a thoughtful silence as Father Smyth's words resonate. Suddenly, the heavy atmosphere is broken by the sound of FBI agents knocking on the door, their presence a looming threat to the sanctuary Father Smyth has created.

Father Smyth (whispering urgently to Morton): "Morton, listen to me. The path you're on, the search for truth and understanding, it's more important than any political ideology. Your journey to the priesthood, to finding your community... it's a noble one. Don't let the world's darkness dim your light."

Morton nods, a resolve forming in his eyes. The scene closes with Morton stepping forward to open the door, facing the unknown with a newfound courage, inspired by Father Smyth's teachings and his own internal quest for spiritual truth.

Closing Shot: The camera pans out as the door opens, revealing the shadowy figures of the agents against the cold night, contrasting the warm glow of the oratory. The scene fades to black, symbolizing Morton's leap into a future filled with challenges, discoveries, and the relentless pursuit of spiritual understanding.

Scene 4: A Love in Jerusalem

Location: A cozy café near the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, filled with the aroma of fresh coffee and the soft hum of intellectual conversations.

Time: Late afternoon, 1943.

Characters:
• Morton Smith (early 30s): A diligent PhD student, fascinated by religious history, thoughtful, and introspective.
• Leah (mid-20s): A beautiful, intelligent Jewish girl studying at the Hebrew University, passionate about her heritage and culture.
• Father Kyriakos: Mentioned in passing, as a connector between Smith's religious exploration and his academic pursuits.

Scene Opening: The camera pans across the bustling streets of Jerusalem, settling on a quaint café where Morton Smith sits alone at a table cluttered with books and notes. He's deeply engrossed in his work, oblivious to the world around him. The door to the café opens, and Leah walks in, her presence like a breath of fresh air. She notices Morton, intrigued by the pile of religious texts surrounding him.

Dialogue:

Leah (approaching Morton's table): "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Morton (looking up, slightly startled): "Oh, no, please join me. I could use a break from these ancient texts."

Leah (smiling, as she sits): "I couldn't help but notice your books. Are you studying religion?"

Morton: "Yes, I'm working on my PhD. My research focuses on early Christian monasticism. And you?"

Leah: "I'm studying Jewish history. My family's roots in this land go back generations. It's fascinating to learn how our past shapes our present."

Morton (genuinely interested): "That sounds incredible. I've recently visited an ancient church. The life there... it's like stepping back in time."

Leah: "I've read about Christianity in books. The dedication of the saints to their faith is remarkable. It reminds me of the perseverance of my own ancestors."

Morton (nodding, impressed): "Exactly. I find the intersection of our religious histories intriguing. Perhaps, you could show me around the Jewish quarters? I'm still quite new to the city."

Leah (enthusiastic): "I'd love to! Jerusalem has so much to offer, and I enjoy seeing it through fresh eyes."

Morton (smiling): "That would be wonderful. I feel like I've been living in a bubble with my research. It's time to explore the living city, not just its past."

Leah: "Let's start tomorrow. Jerusalem is a city of layers; each stone has a story. And who knows, maybe we'll uncover some together."

Morton: "I look forward to it. And, Leah, thank you. I've been so focused on the historical, I've almost forgotten the beauty of the present."

Leah: "It's easy to do in a city like this. But don't worry, I'll be your guide to both."

Closing Shot: The scene fades as Morton and Leah continue their conversation, their laughter blending with the ambient sounds of the café. The camera slowly zooms out, capturing the vibrant life of Jerusalem at dusk, a city where past and present intertwine seamlessly.

Scene 5: A Crossroads of Love and Faith

Location: A serene overlook in Jerusalem, offering a panoramic view of the city as the sun sets, casting golden hues over the ancient stones and modern structures alike.
Time: Evening, a few months after Morton and Leah's first meeting.

Characters:
• Morton Smith: Now deeply immersed in both his research and his evolving relationship with Leah, conflicted about his future.
• Leah: In love with Morton, hopeful about a future together but bound by her own cultural and personal desires.
Scene Opening: The camera pans across the city of Jerusalem, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, eventually focusing on Morton and Leah standing close to each other at the overlook, the city sprawling beneath them.

Dialogue:

Leah (leaning against the railing, looking out over the city): "It's beautiful, isn't it? Jerusalem has a way of making you feel like you're a part of something much bigger than yourself."

Morton (standing beside her, his eyes also on the horizon): "It does. Being here, with you, has changed me, Leah. I see the world differently now."

Leah turns to face Morton, her expression tender but serious. She takes his hand in hers.

Leah: "Morton, I want to ask you something important. I've been thinking about us, about our future. I love you, and I want to be with you, wherever that may be."

Morton looks surprised but remains silent, prompting Leah to continue.

Leah: "I want us to get married. I know it's sudden, but I want to go to America with you. We could start our lives together there."

Morton takes a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. He gently pulls his hand away.

Morton (with a pained expression): "Leah, I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone. But I can't marry you. My path... it's leading me somewhere else."

Leah (shocked, stepping back): "What are you saying, Morton? I thought we shared something special. Is it because I'm Jewish? Is it your research?"

Morton: "No, Leah, it's not you. It's me. I've been called to serve in a different way. I'm going to become an Anglican priest. My faith... it's guiding me towards a life of devotion. I can't turn away from that, even for you."

Leah looks away, tears brimming in her eyes, as Morton reaches out to her, but she shakes her head.

Leah: "I can't believe this. I thought we had a future together. I thought you loved me enough to overcome any obstacle."

Morton: "I do love you, Leah. But I can't ignore my calling. It's something deep within me that I must follow, even if it means losing you."

The silence between them grows, filled with the sounds of the city below. Leah wipes away a tear and looks back at Morton, her decision made.

Leah: "Then this is where our paths diverge, Morton. I hope you find what you're looking for in your faith. But I can't wait for you."

Leah turns and walks away, leaving Morton alone at the overlook. He watches her go, the sunset reflecting his inner turmoil and the painful choice he's made.

Closing Shot: The camera slowly zooms out, capturing Morton standing alone against the backdrop of Jerusalem transitioning from day to night, symbolizing the end of one chapter and the uncertain beginning of another in his life.

Scene 6: The Hostel Room - Evening

The scene opens with Morton Smith sitting desolately on the edge of his bed in the dimly lit room, a shadow of frustration and despair on his face. The walls are adorned with icons, casting eerie reflections from the flickering candlelight.
There's a knock at the door.

Morton Smith: (mumbling to himself) Who could that be at this hour?

He rises slowly and opens the door to reveal Archimandrite Kyriakos Spyridonides, his landlord and a high-ranking official within the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem.
Kyriakos steps inside, his presence commanding yet comforting.

Archimandrite Kyriakos: Morton, I couldn’t help but notice your melancholy. The weight on your shoulders seems heavier than the stones of our ancient church.

Morton Smith: (sighing deeply) It’s just... I feel torn, Father. Between the pull of my passions and the call of my faith. It’s like I’m at a crossroads, and every path leads to more confusion.

Archimandrite Kyriakos: (placing a reassuring hand on Morton’s shoulder) My son, life is indeed a series of decisions between the divine and the earthly, between faith in God and surrender to our baser instincts. But remember, it is in the struggle that we find our true strength and our path to the divine.

Morton Smith: But how do I choose, Father? How do I know which path is the right one?

Archimandrite Kyriakos: (smiling gently) Sometimes, it’s not about choosing the right path, but about making the path you choose right through faith and conviction. Let me show you something that might help clear your mind.

Cut to: The two walking out of the hostel and into the quiet, moonlit streets of Jerusalem.

Scene Transition: Journey to Mar Saba Monastery
The scene transitions to the rugged, serene landscapes of the Judean Desert, as Morton and Kyriakos make their way on donkeys, following the old man with provisions. The solemn beauty of the desert under the starlit sky is juxtaposed with Morton’s internal turmoil.

Archimandrite Kyriakos: (as they travel) Look around you, Morton. This desert, these mountains... they’ve been witnesses to the faith of countless souls seeking God amidst silence and solitude. Mar Saba is a beacon of faith, standing firm against the ravages of time and human folly.

Morton Smith: (looking around, awe-inspiring) There’s a profound peace here, isn’t there? It’s as if the noise of my doubts is drowned out by the vastness of this place.

Archimandrite Kyriakos: Exactly. Sometimes, we need to step away from the chaos of our lives to hear the whisper of God in the silence of our hearts. Mar Saba has been a sanctuary for those seeking to commune with the divine, to find clarity amidst confusion.

The scene fades as they continue their journey, the silhouette of the monastery appearing on the horizon, a symbol of hope and renewal for Morton.

Fade Out.

Scene 7: Morton Smith’s Return to America - 1944

Fade in: A bustling port filled with soldiers returning home. Amidst the sea of uniforms, Morton Smith steps off a ship, a look of determination mixed with apprehension on his face. He carries a small suitcase, the only physical evidence of his journey.

Cut to: Morton walking through the streets of Philadelphia, the city bustling around him. He seems out of place, a man who has seen more of the world than those he passes by.
Morton Smith Voiceover: (reflective) "Coming back wasn't just about returning to familiar streets and faces. It was about finding my place in a world that seemed to have moved on without me."

Scene Transition: Morton in his old room, surrounded by books and notes, deep in thought.

Morton Smith Voiceover: "My time at Mar Saba... it changed me. I found a peace there, a clarity I hadn't known I was searching for. I couldn't go back to being the man I was before."

Cut to: A small, dimly lit Episcopal church where Morton speaks with an Episcopal bishop, a man of stern appearance but kind eyes.

Bishop: (skeptically) Morton, your academic credentials are impressive, but your commitment... There are concerns.

Morton Smith: (firmly) I understand, Bishop. My path hasn't been conventional, but my faith... my conviction has only deepened. I seek to serve, to guide others as I have been guided.

Bishop: (pausing, then nodding slowly) There's a need in Baltimore... a challenge. But perhaps... it's where you need to be.

Scene Transition: Morton in Baltimore, serving in a church, his demeanor serious but compassionate.

Morton Smith Voiceover: "Baltimore wasn't easy. I was an outsider, a scholar in a collar. But I was where I was meant to be, serving, learning, growing."

Cut to: A scene showing Morton’s struggles, his moments of doubt, but also the small victories, the connections he makes with his congregation.

Morton Smith Voiceover: "It wasn't just about faith in God. It was about faith in the journey, in the lessons of the desert, of Mar Saba. It was about finding my way, not back to where I'd been, but forward to where I was meant to go."

Scene Transition: Morton, late at night in the church, alone, kneeling in prayer, a single beam of moonlight illuminating his figure.

Morton Smith: (whispering) "Guide me, Lord. Use me as Your instrument."

Fade out: The scene closes with Morton rising, a look of resolve on his face, as the screen fades to black.

Morton Smith Voiceover: "The war had changed the world, and it had changed me. But some battles were still to be fought, some paths still to be walked. And I was ready."

Fade Out.

Scene 8: The Scandal at St. Luke’s Church

Interior, dimly lit study in St. Luke's Church, Boston. Morton Smith sits behind an old, wooden desk cluttered with papers and religious texts. The mood is somber. A newspaper with the scandal headline lies open in front of him. The door opens, and the bishop, Norman Nash, steps in, his expression grave.

Bishop Nash: (sighing deeply) Morton, this situation... it's untenable. The scandal, the headlines... It's brought not just you but the church under scrutiny.

Morton Smith: (defensively) I performed the ceremony in good faith, Bishop. How was I to know her past? My intention was to help, to provide spiritual support.

Bishop Nash: (shaking his head) Intentions... they matter, of course, but the consequences, Morton. You've seen the papers. The diocese is in an uproar. We're fielding calls, dealing with the fallout. This isn't just about a lapse in judgment. It's about the repercussions.

Morton picks up the newspaper, staring at the article as if seeing it for the first time.

Morton Smith: (quietly) I wanted to serve, to make a difference. But instead, I've caused harm, brought scandal. Maybe... maybe my path isn't here, in the priesthood.

Bishop Nash: (softening) Morton, you're a brilliant scholar, a man of deep faith. But perhaps your calling lies elsewhere. The academic world, perhaps. There, your intellect and your passion for the scriptures... you could make a real impact.
Morton looks away, conflicted, the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

Morton Smith: (murmuring) I thought I had found my place, but now... I'm lost, Bishop. I thought I was doing God's work.
Bishop Nash: (placing a hand on Morton's shoulder) Sometimes, Morton, God's work isn't where we expect it to be. It's not the end of your journey, just a turn in the road. Wherever you go, whatever you do, your faith, your knowledge... they'll guide you.

Morton nods slowly, a mixture of resignation and resolve in his eyes.

Morton Smith: (determinedly) Then I'll seek my path, Bishop. If not here, then elsewhere. But always in service of the truth.
The bishop nods, offering a sad smile as he turns to leave.

Morton remains seated, looking at the newspaper once more before slowly folding it and pushing it aside, as if symbolically closing a chapter of his life.

Fade out.

Scene 9: Smith’s Revelation

Exterior, a sunlit café in Athens, Greece. Smith sits alone at a table cluttered with sketches, maps, and notebooks. The vibrant energy of the city buzzes around him, but he is absorbed in his work, his eyes alive with the thrill of discovery. A waitress brings him another cup of coffee, which he thanks her for with a distracted smile. He’s surrounded by the beauty of ancient Greece, but his mind is on manuscripts and the mysteries they hold.

Smith’s voiceover begins as he leafs through his notes and sketches.

Morton Smith (V.O.): In the silence of those ancient libraries, among the whispers of pages that hadn't been turned in centuries, I found more than manuscripts. I found a calling. The past spoke to me through those texts, offering glimpses of worlds long gone but preserved in ink and parchment.
Cut to Smith in a dimly lit library, dust motes dancing in beams of light, as he carefully examines a manuscript with a magnifying glass. He’s completely engrossed, the rest of the world fading away.

Morton Smith (V.O.): Each letter I deciphered, every line of text I uncovered, was a piece of the puzzle. A puzzle that stretched back centuries, connecting me to the thoughts and hopes of those who lived and believed long before me.
Scene transitions to Smith at his desk in his apartment later that night, surrounded by his finds and notes, the excitement of discovery lighting up his face.

Morton Smith (V.O.): It wasn't just about finding Isidore's letters. It was about piecing together a picture of the past, understanding the continuity of faith and scholarship. That’s when I realized my true vocation. Not just as a teacher, but as a guardian of history, a seeker of truths hidden in forgotten texts.

Smith is now seen packing his bags, preparing for his trip to Jerusalem, his face set with determination and anticipation.
Morton Smith (V.O.): And so, I turned my gaze to Jerusalem, to Mar Saba. There was something out there, waiting in the silence of the desert, a discovery that could change everything. I could feel it.

Cut to a sweeping aerial shot of the desert, the ancient monastery of Mar Saba appearing like a mirage on the horizon, as Smith's voiceover continues.

Morton Smith (V.O.): The past isn’t just behind us, it’s all around us, waiting to be rediscovered, to be understood. And I, Morton Smith, was ready to devote my life to unraveling its mysteries.

Smith looks out the window of the airplane as it flies over the desert, a look of awe and excitement on his face as the scene fades to black.

Fade out.

Scene 10: The Dream of Leah

Interior, night. Smith's spartan bedroom. He tosses and turns, caught in the throes of a vivid dream. The atmosphere shifts, and the room morphs into a surreal, dreamlike version of Jerusalem's ancient streets, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.
Leah appears, as beautiful and captivating as Smith remembers her, dressed in traditional attire, her hair flowing. She moves towards him with a grace that seems to defy the very air around her. Smith is drawn to her, his heart racing.

Leah: Morton...

She extends her hand, and he takes it, feeling an electric connection. They draw closer, the tension palpable.

Smith: Leah, I've missed you.

Leah smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Leah: Morton, do you remember what I asked of you?

Smith nods, the memory clear and sharp in the dream world.

Smith: You wanted me to convert to Judaism...

Leah steps back, creating a space filled with longing and unresolved desire.

Leah: It's not just about conversion, Morton. It's about understanding, sharing a faith, a life...

Smith reaches out to her, desperate to bridge the gap, but Leah remains just out of reach.

Smith: Leah, I love you. Isn't that enough?

Leah shakes her head gently, her expression tender but firm.

Leah: Love is profound, Morton. But sometimes, it asks of us to explore depths we never knew existed. To embrace not just each other, but the worlds within us.

Smith feels a pang of longing and frustration. He wants to move towards her, to erase the distance between them, but an invisible force holds him back.

Smith: I don't want to lose you again, Leah.

Leah reaches out, her hand hovering just above his heart.

Leah: You never lost me, Morton. I'm a part of the journey you're on. A journey to the heart, to the soul, where all paths of faith and love converge.

As she touches his chest, a warm, glowing light emanates from the spot, spreading throughout his body, filling him with an overwhelming sense of peace and understanding.

Leah: Remember, Morton, true love transcends all barriers, even in dreams.

The scene starts to fade, Leah's image becoming more ethereal, as Smith tries to hold onto the moment, to the feeling.

Smith (whispering): Leah...

Smith suddenly awakens in his bed, the early morning light filtering through the window. He sits up, panting, the dream's intensity still lingering. He touches his chest where Leah's hand had been, feeling an unexplained warmth.

Smith gets out of bed, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions. He looks out the window towards the rising sun, a new resolve taking shape within him.

Smith (to himself): Maybe it's time to explore the depths Leah spoke of... to understand the worlds within me.

The scene ends with Smith gazing out the window, the dream leaving a profound impact on his thoughts and feelings, setting the stage for his spiritual and emotional journey ahead.

Fade out.

Scene 11: Love and Scholarship at Columbia

Interior, Columbia University lecture hall, 1957. Students chat amongst themselves, awaiting the arrival of their professor for the Ancient History class. The atmosphere is one of eager anticipation.

Ethne, a bright-eyed Barnard student, sits at the front, her eyes occasionally glancing towards the door. Her friends whisper and giggle beside her, but she seems lost in thought.

Ethne's Friend: (teasingly) You look like you're waiting for a date, not a lecture!

Ethne smiles softly, her gaze unwavering from the door.

Suddenly, the room quiets down as Morton Smith rushes in, slightly disheveled from the rain, his bald head glistening. The students, amused by his entrance, try to stifle their laughter.

Professor Smith: (catching his breath) Apologies for my tardiness, everyone. It seems I've been outwitted by the concept of daylight savings time.

The class erupts into gentle laughter, but Smith takes it in stride, flashing a charming, embarrassed grin. He proceeds to the lectern, executing his signature karate chop to the chain, and begins his lecture with infectious enthusiasm.

Cut to: A month earlier, Barnard College’s Open House. Ethne introduces her mother, Miriam, to Professor Smith after class. Miriam is the epitome of grace and beauty, capturing Smith's immediate interest.

Ethne: Professor Smith, I'd like you to meet my mother, Miriam.

Smith, visibly taken by Miriam's presence, manages a polite and intrigued demeanor.

Professor Smith: (to Miriam) It's a pleasure to meet you. Your interest in ancient history is... quite enchanting.

Miriam responds with a poised nod, her interest piqued by Smith's intellect and charm. Their conversation flows easily, touching on topics from the course to more personal interests.

Scene shifts to the following week, beside the statue of Athena at Low Library. Miriam and Smith meet, their connection deepening beyond academic interest. They laugh, share stories, and explore their mutual fascination with the ancient world.

Ethne, observing from a distance, feels a mix of happiness for her mother and a tinge of concern for the secrecy of their relationship. She reflects on her role as an unintended Cupid, hopeful yet apprehensive about the budding romance.

Ethne: (to herself) I just wanted to help Mom smile again... I hope I did the right thing.

The relationship between Smith and Miriam blossoms in the shadow of academia, a secret romance fueled by intellectual passion and mutual respect. As Smith prepares for his summer trip to Jerusalem, the promise of continued discovery - both scholarly and personal - lingers in the air.

Fade out with Ethne watching her mother and Smith share a discreet, yet tender farewell. The complexity of love, academia, and secrecy weaves a bittersweet tapestry around their lives.

[DCHindley]

Anglican priests can marry, and are not required to be celibate.

[JoeWallack]

The scale should be bigger. How about:

House of Cardinals starring Kevin Spacey, Harvey Dubish and Stephen Carlson.

Kevin Spacey is a conniving Pope and Morton Smith is his secret boyfriend. Smith is a bumbling, inspector Clumso type Bible scholar who accidently discovers the authentic Clement letter in Yassir Arafat's pornography collection. The Pope secretly has the letter altered slightly to make it look less authentic and secretly replaces the photos Smith took with photos of the forged document. The Pope then convinces Smith to hire Stephen Carlson to defend him even though the case is all about handwriting analysis which Carlson has no experience with whatsoever, not realizing that Carlson is really working for the Pope. When Smith discovers that Carlson is only familiar with modern Greek and figures out that he is being set up he threatens to expose his affair with the Pope. The Pope's secret adviser, Rabbi Canary, advises him that his career will not survive such a disclosure (at least for another five years) and that he should threaten to pre-empt Smith by confessing to having a girlfriend and if she is sufficiently hot, a majority of men will forgive him.


Joseph

The New Porphyry

[Secret Alias]

The mistakes aren't mine.

[Secret Alias]

Scene 12: Arrival at Ben Gurion Airport, 1958

Exterior, Ben Gurion Airport. A bustling, modern airport with planes landing and taking off. The camera follows Morton Smith as he exits the plane, carrying a small suitcase and a satchel filled with academic papers.

Interior, Baggage Claim Area. Travelers crowd around the conveyor belt, eagerly awaiting their luggage. Smith scans the room, his eyes reflecting a mix of anticipation and fatigue from the long journey.

Smith: (thinking to himself) Jerusalem... every time it feels like stepping into history. But first, the mundane task of waiting for luggage.

As he waits, his gaze inadvertently lands on a woman standing across the belt. For a moment, his heart skips a beat. She bears a striking resemblance to Leah, with similar features and posture. Memories flash through Smith's mind - laughter, intimate conversations, the pain of their separation.

Smith: (murmuring under his breath) Leah?

He takes a tentative step forward, his eyes fixed on the woman, but as she turns to speak to someone next to her, the illusion shatters. It's not Leah; just a stranger with a passing resemblance.

Smith: (sighing, shaking his head) Of course, it's not her. Why would it be?

Disappointment settles in, mixing with a deep-seated longing. He collects his suitcase as it finally appears and hoists it off the belt, his movements automatic.

Smith: (to himself, as he walks away) Jerusalem is full of ghosts. But I'm here for the living - the manuscripts, the history. Focus, Morton. There's work to be done.

Exterior, Ben Gurion Airport. Smith exits the terminal, squinting in the bright Mediterranean sunlight. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself for the journey ahead.

Smith: (determined) Mar Saba awaits. And with it, perhaps, a piece of history yet uncovered.

The camera pans up to show the airport bustling with activity, then cuts to a wide shot of Jerusalem in the distance, the city's ancient walls and modern buildings intertwined - a fitting metaphor for Smith's quest to uncover the past within the present.


Scene 13: Journey to Mar Saba Monastery

Exterior, Jerusalem Countryside - Dawn. The first light of day paints the ancient landscape in soft hues of orange and pink. The camera pans across a rugged terrain to reveal Morton Smith, Kyriakos, and an old man preparing their journey to the Mar Saba Monastery.

The old man, burdened with provisions, adjusts the load on his donkey. Kyriakos, majestic on his horse, looks ahead, ready to lead. Smith, awkward and unsure on his donkey, appears visibly out of his element, his academic demeanor ill-suited to the physical demands of the journey.

Smith: (thinking aloud, to no one in particular) What am I even doing here? What if I don't find anything?

The old man, overhearing Smith's doubts, offers a sympathetic glance but remains silent, focused on his task. Kyriakos, ever the leader, calls back encouragingly.

Kyriakos: (cheerfully) The journey is as important as the destination, my friend!

Smith forces a smile, not fully convinced, and turns his attention to the path ahead. His inner turmoil is evident.

Smith: (voiceover, as the trio sets off) I've dedicated my life to uncovering the secrets of the past. But what if this leads nowhere? What if this is just... a waste of time?

The camera follows the small caravan as they traverse the challenging terrain, the vastness of the desert landscape serving as a backdrop to Smith's introspection.

Smith: (continuing, voiceover) Maybe... maybe I should just settle down. Find some stability. Perhaps academia isn't the grand adventure I thought it would be.

As they ascend a particularly steep path, Smith's donkey stumbles slightly, jolting him from his thoughts. He grips the reins tighter, a metaphor for his grappling with uncertainty.

Smith: (resolute, to himself) No. I'm here for a reason. History has its secrets, and I've always found my way to them. This time will be no different.

The scene shifts to a wider shot, the figures now small against the sprawling expanse, symbolizing the monumental scale of Smith's quest against his personal doubts.

Smith: (voiceover, as they continue) It's the unknown that drives me. The possibility of uncovering something... something monumental. I can't give up now. Not when history itself might be waiting to reveal its mysteries to me.

The scene fades to black, leaving the audience with a sense of Smith's renewed determination, juxtaposed against the daunting journey ahead. The question of what lies at Mar Saba hangs in the air, a compelling draw into the next part of the story.


Scene 14: Inside Mar Saba Monastery's Library

Interior, Mar Saba Monastery's Library - Late Afternoon. The camera pans over Morton Smith’s shoulder as he leafs through a thick, dust-covered book. Sunlight filters through a small window, illuminating the floating dust particles and casting a serene glow over the room.

Smith’s eyes move meticulously over the pages, scanning for handwritten notes in the margins. He sets aside one book, only to pick up another, his expression a mix of determination and fatigue. The silence is palpable, broken only by the sound of turning pages and the distant hum of the desert wind.

Smith: (muttering to himself while examining a particularly worn volume) More sermons... hymns... nothing new here.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The monk, sitting quietly by the door, watches him, a look of polite curiosity on his face.

Smith: (looking at a book with extensive marginalia, chuckles softly) So much effort by these monks, annotating, preserving... And here I am, hoping for something they missed.

He pauses, glancing at the pencil in his hand, a lightbulb moment of levity in his exhaustive search.

Smith: (smirking, talking to himself) Maybe it would be just easier if I wrote a letter of Isidore myself.

He chuckles at the thought, shaking his head, then returns his attention to the book before him. The monk, not understanding the joke but sensing the shift in mood, smiles gently.

Smith: (turning his attention back to the book, more animated) But that's not how history works, is it? We chase ghosts in the hope of finding voices that echo through time.

Smith’s demeanor changes from jest to a more reflective, almost reverent tone as he caresses the pages of the book.

Smith: (continuing, more to himself than anyone else) Each note, each annotation... a whisper from the past. And I’m here to listen, to piece together the story they tell.

The scene slowly zooms out, leaving Smith engrossed in his work, a lone figure amidst the ancient tomes, connected to centuries of monastic life through the act of scholarship. The fading light from the window suggests the approaching end of the day, a metaphor for the timeless pursuit of knowledge against the fading light of history.

The scene fades to black, the audience left to ponder the dedication and solitary quest of the scholar in his search for the voices of the past.

Scene: Discovery at Mar Saba

Interior, Mar Saba Monastery Library, 1958. A dimly lit, dusty room filled with ancient manuscripts and books. Morton Smith is shown ascending a narrow staircase with a monk, entering the tower library. The camera pans over shelves packed with texts and the floor strewn with books.

Smith, filled with a scholarly determination, begins his meticulous examination of the books under the watchful eye of his monastic chaperone. His expression is one of focused concentration, occasionally marked by brief flashes of excitement or frustration as he sifts through the volumes.

Smith 15: (muttering to himself) All these texts... centuries of wisdom and yet, something tells me there's more here, hidden away.

Cut to: Smith finds a printed book with handwritten notes in the margins. He carefully sets it aside, signaling the monk that he's ready to leave. They lock the library and descend back to his quarters.

Interior, Smith's Quarters. Smith sits at a modest desk, the day's findings spread out before him. He picks up the manuscript with the inscrutable handwriting, squinting as he tries to decipher the Greek script.

Smith: (whispering, with growing excitement) From the letters of the most holy Clement... to Theodore?

Smith leans in closer, his eyes widening as he realizes the significance of what he's reading. The camera zooms in on the manuscript, highlighting the ancient cursive handwriting.

Smith: (in awe) This... this is unprecedented. Clement of Alexandria... speaking directly to someone named Theodore. And this isn't from any known work...

Cut to: Smith, now fully engrossed in the manuscript, his initial astonishment turning to scholarly intrigue. He begins taking meticulous notes, his hand moving rapidly across the paper.

Exterior, Mar Saba Monastery. The sun sets over the ancient walls, casting long shadows. Inside, Smith continues his work, the weight of his discovery pressing upon him.

Smith: (reflecting aloud) This... could change everything we know about early Christianity. Clement's own words, hidden away for centuries.

Fade out with Smith deep in thought, the manuscript open before him. The significance of his find, both for himself and the academic world, hangs in the air like the dust motes illuminated by the fading light.


Scene 16: Elegant Restaurant in New York - Dinner with Miriam, Ethne Chesterman, and Morton Smith

Interior, an upscale New York restaurant. The camera captures Morton Smith, Miriam, and Ethne Chesterman seated around a polished wooden table adorned with fine china and crystal glasses, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. The ambience of the restaurant is warm and inviting, with the soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of cutlery in the background.

Morton Smith, visibly animated, is in the midst of recounting his experience at Mar Saba. His hands gesture expressively as he describes his ordeal and discovery, his voice a mix of excitement and frustration.

Smith: (laughing, despite the grueling details) And then, there was this soup with an octopus in it. At the monastery, mind you. And here we are, enjoying this exquisite meal. The contrast couldn't be more striking.

Miriam and Ethne smile, enjoying the story despite its ups and downs. There's a pause as the waiter serves their entrees, and the conversation momentarily shifts to the excellence of the food.

Smith: (leaning back, more reflective now) But beyond the discomforts, what I found... it's potentially groundbreaking. This letter by Clement, it’s unlike anything we've known before.

Miriam nods, showing her understanding and support, while Ethne leans in, captivated by Smith's passion for his work.

Ethne: (curious) And what does it say, Morton? What makes it so special?

Smith pauses, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. His eyes shift from Ethne to Miriam, gauging their reaction to what he’s about to reveal.

Smith: (seriously) It hints at aspects of Jesus’s life that we've never seen in scripture before. It’s... controversial, to say the least.

Miriam looks intrigued, encouraging him to continue.

Smith: (hesitantly) Well, based on my initial interpretation... I think it might suggest that Jesus was gay.

The statement hangs in the air, a bold pronouncement that catches both Miriam and Ethne off guard. The camera captures their reactions—a mixture of surprise and contemplation—as they process Smith's words.

Miriam: (after a pause, thoughtful) That would certainly stir things up, wouldn't it? But it's the truth you're after, Morton. No matter where it leads.

Ethne looks from her mother to Smith, sensing the depth of his commitment to his scholarly pursuit, despite the personal costs.

Smith: (nodding, a determined look in his eyes) Yes, the truth. No matter how challenging it may be. That's what scholarship is about. Unearthing and confronting the truths of our past, no matter the consequences.

Miriam: (teasingly, with a playful glint in her eye) With all that time you spend away from me, I wonder sometimes if you’re not seeing someone else.

Morton Smith smiles, his affection for Miriam evident, yet his mind clearly preoccupied with his work.

Smith: (lightly) I am really devoted to my work. That's true.

Miriam leans forward, her curiosity piqued, sensing an opportunity to delve deeper.

Miriam: (softly, probing) Well, with all that time away from me, I wonder whether you met any ghosts from your past.

Smith’s demeanor changes slightly; he turns a little pale, caught off guard by Miriam’s insight.

Smith: (a bit unsettled) What makes you say that?

Miriam notices the shift in his tone, the usually unflappable scholar momentarily at a loss for words.

Miriam: (noticing his discomfort, playfully) That’s not like you, Morty. You usually have a quick comeback.

Smith, recovering his composure, tries to deflect with humor, albeit with a hint of truth.

Smith: (attempting light-heartedness) Monasteries are only filled with men.

Miriam laughs, her laughter warm and infectious, filling the space between them with ease and familiarity.

Miriam: (laughing) Maybe you are gay.

The scene ends on this light-hearted note, the laughter of Miriam echoing as the camera slowly pulls away. The exchange leaves a lingering question in the air, an exploration of the many layers of human relationships, and the acceptance of complexities within those we love.

[Secret Alias]

I think the actor has to be staring at a blank page with his pencil to achieve the proper cheesy 1950 film noire effect I am going for when he says "Maybe I should just forge a letter of Isidore myself" or whatever it says.

[Secret Alias]

Scene 17: Darby Nock’s Office - Columbia University - Afternoon

The office is filled with books, papers, and photographs scattered across a large oak desk. Sunlight filters through the window, casting long shadows. Morton Smith and Darby Nock are hunched over a collection of photographs spread out in front of them.

Nock: (pointing at a photograph) I can’t go along with your "γυμνὸς γυμνῷ" translation, Morton. It should be “nakeds with naked” based on the grammar and syntax here. Look, the ligature that typically pairs "n" (nu) with omega and iota is absent.

Smith leans in closer, his finger tracing the lines of Greek text in the photograph.

Smith: Maybe the scribe had to abandon the usual ligature because of the accent placement. Could that be possible?

Nock rubs his chin thoughtfully, skeptical.

Nock: That’s a reckless assumption, Morton. This manuscript doesn’t abandon ligatures elsewhere under similar conditions. And the accent on the final letter suggests a vowel ending, not a consonant.

Smith sits back, his expression one of deep concentration.

Smith: But what if there wasn’t enough room to place the accent correctly? Could that explain it?

Nock closes the book with a gentle thud, his gaze firm on Smith.

Nock: I’ve never seen you like this before. You’re hell-bent on making this manuscript fit a narrative. That’s not like you.

Smith’s eyes light up with a mix of passion and defiance.

Smith: But if it’s true, it could reveal something startling... profound even. Isn’t it our job to explore every possibility?

Nock shakes his head, a mix of concern and respect in his eyes.

Nock: “Maybe” is a powerful word, but it’s no foundation for scholarly work. I hope you understand the path you’re treading.

Smith meets Nock’s gaze, undeterred.

Smith: Sometimes, the most significant discoveries start with a “maybe.” I have to pursue this, Darby, no matter where it leads.

Nock leans back in his chair, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air.

Nock: (sighing) I hope you know what you’re doing, Morton. Just remember, the pursuit of truth requires more than just zeal; it demands rigor and honesty.

The camera pulls back slowly, leaving the two men enveloped in the scholarly chaos of Nock’s office, the tension of their debate lingering as a testament to the complexities of academic exploration and the thin line between conviction and conjecture.

Scene 18: Horace Mann Auditorium - SBL Annual Meeting - December 29, 1960

The auditorium is dimly lit, filled with scholars, theologians, and students eagerly awaiting the presentation. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation. Morton Smith steps onto the stage at precisely 7:45 p.m., a stack of notes in hand.

Narrator: (voiceover) By the winter of 1960, the academic world was on the cusp of a revelation that would shake the very foundations of biblical scholarship. Morton Smith, a relatively unknown professor, was about to introduce a discovery that could rewrite the history of early Christianity.

Smith clears his throat and begins his presentation, detailing his findings about the Secret Gospel of Mark. The audience listens intently, some nodding in agreement, others frowning in skepticism.

Smith: (confidently) And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a copy of an ancient letter in Greek, ascribing a secret gospel to Mark. This discovery not only challenges our understanding of the canonical texts but also invites us to reconsider the origins and early history of the Christian church.

The room is silent for a moment before a mixture of applause and murmurs fills the air. As the Q&A session begins, the mood shifts. Doubts and questions are raised, some supportive, others critical.

Moderator: (addressing the audience) Let's thank Professor Smith for his enlightening presentation. We will now open the floor for questions.

After several technical and supportive inquiries, a figure stands up from the back, their voice cutting through the murmured discussions.

Figure: (accusingly) Professor Smith, while your findings are indeed fascinating, I must question your methodology and your motives. You're not behaving like a responsible scholar. You seem to have movie star aspirations, seeking fame over factual accuracy.

The audience gasps, and a tense silence follows the accusation. Smith pauses, visibly taken aback but composed.

Smith: (calmly) I understand that my findings are controversial and may challenge long-held beliefs. However, my intention has never been fame but the pursuit of truth, wherever it may lead us. It's the essence of scholarly work to question, explore, and, yes, even to unsettle. I welcome scrutiny, as it is through rigorous debate that we advance our understanding.

The moderator interjects, attempting to diffuse the tension.

Moderator: (firmly) Let us remember the spirit of academic inquiry and respect differing viewpoints. Professor Smith's work, like all scholarly research, will undergo the rigorous process of peer review. It's through these discussions that we grow as a scholarly community.

The scene fades as the audience continues to engage in heated but respectful debate, reflecting the complexity and passion inherent in the pursuit of knowledge and truth.

Scene 19: New York Times Office - Day After the SBL Presentation

*The camera pans over the bustling newsroom of the New York Times, journalists typing furiously, papers flying, phones ringing. The focus shifts to an editor reviewing a draft of an article titled “Expert Disputes ‘Secret Gospel.’”

Editor: (muttering to himself) This is going to make waves.

Cut to Pierson Parker in his study at the General Theological Seminary, surrounded by stacks of books and papers, on the phone with a New York Times reporter.

Reporter: (voice over the phone) Professor Parker, can you elaborate on your skepticism regarding Professor Smith’s claim about the Secret Gospel of Mark?

Parker: (earnestly) While I don’t dispute that Clement of Alexandria might have written the letter to Theodore, I am deeply skeptical about the claim that Mark the Evangelist authored the so-called Secret Gospel. My suspicion is that it’s an ancient forgery, perhaps the work of a Jewish Christian in Alexandria, trying to emulate Mark’s style but failing to capture its essence.

The camera focuses on Parker's hands, fiddling with a pen, underlining passages in a copy of the article to be published.

Parker: (continuing) It’s crucial to understand that this isn’t just about the authenticity of a manuscript. This is about the historical integrity of the Christian tradition. If we're not rigorous in our scrutiny, we risk misinterpreting the very foundations of our faith.

Cut back to the newsroom. The editor gives a final nod of approval, and the article is sent to print. The headline “Expert Disputes ‘Secret Gospel’” flashes across the screen as the scene fades to black.

Next, the camera zooms in on Morton Smith, having breakfast, his face expressionless as he reads the New York Times article. His hand trembles slightly as he sets down the paper.

Smith: (murmuring to himself) So it begins. The battle for truth is never without its casualties.

Smith's gaze drifts away, pensive, knowing that this is just the beginning of a long and contentious debate. The weight of history, scholarship, and faith hangs in the balance.

The scene ends with Smith picking up the phone, dialing a number.

Smith: (determined) We need to respond. It’s not just about the Secret Gospel. It’s about ensuring that our pursuit of historical truth isn’t overshadowed by skepticism and fear.

The camera pulls back, leaving Smith framed against the backdrop of his study, filled with books and manuscripts—the solitary scholar ready to defend his discovery against the coming storm.

Scene 20: Quiet, Dimly Lit Restaurant - Midday

The camera slowly pans over a cozy restaurant, sunlight filtering through half-closed blinds, casting soft shadows on the table where Morton Smith and Atanas Todor Madjoucoff are seated. Classical music plays faintly in the background. They’re midway through lunch, with open books and papers scattered around their plates.

Morton Smith: (thoughtfully) You see, Atanas, my rendering of "naked man with naked man" has stirred up quite the controversy. But I can't shake this feeling... I believe there's depth to it that we've yet to fully understand.

Madjoucoff, impeccably dressed, pauses from his meal, looks at Smith with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Atanas Todor Madjoucoff: (inquiringly) Are you suggesting, Morton, that Jesus could have been gay? Is that one way to interpret it?

Smith shifts uncomfortably, clearly grappling with the weight of his own hypothesis.

Morton Smith: There are myriad ways to interpret it, yes, that being one. But—

Madjoucoff interrupts, leaning forward.

Madjoucoff: You mentioned in Jerusalem... the Jews have stories about a gay Jesus. About Jesus being a bastard child, about Him being tormented in hell, buried in a smoldering pile of excrement. What's your point, Morton?

Smith looks taken aback, his fork halfway to his mouth, pausing.

Smith: (defensively) And what is your point, Atanas?

Madjoucoff's expression turns more serious, his gaze penetrating.

Madjoucoff: No Christian would ever write that Jesus was gay.

Smith begins to retort, visibly frustrated.

Smith: That's simply not true. There are reports—

Madjoucoff, unflinching, interrupts again.

Madjoucoff: Ask yourself, Morton. Maybe you want Jesus to be gay.

The statement hangs in the air, a palpable tension between them. Smith is visibly startled, caught off guard by the directness.

Smith: (recovering his composure) I'm not following you.

Madjoucoff continues, undeterred.

Madjoucoff: Maybe you should begin by looking within.

Smith looks down, processing Madjoucoff's words, his expression a mixture of contemplation and defiance.

Smith: (firmly) I am just searching for the truth.

The camera focuses on Madjoucoff, who nods slowly, acknowledging Smith's resolve but still skeptical.

Madjoucoff: (softly) And maybe the journey to the truth starts much closer to home than we think.

The scene ends with both men sitting in a reflective silence, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air as the camera slowly pulls away, leaving them to their thoughts.


Scene 20: Morton Smith's Manhattan Apartment - Evening

The camera opens on a dimly lit, cluttered apartment. Books and papers are everywhere, a testament to a life spent in pursuit of knowledge. Morton Smith, now visibly older, sits at a desk strewn with manuscripts. He hesitates, then reaches for an old, worn address book. After flipping through the pages, he finds Miriam Chesterman’s number and dials on a rotary phone.

Morton Smith: (nervously) Uh, hello, Miriam? It’s Morty... uh, Morton Smith. I—I hope you remember me. I...apologize for calling out of the blue like this.

Miriam's voice is warm, a stark contrast to the cold, scholarly loneliness of Smith's apartment.

Miriam: (surprised but pleasant) Morty? Of course, I remember you. How could I forget? It’s been ages. How are you?

Smith stumbles over his words, visibly struggling.

Smith: I’m... I’m alright, thank you. And yourself?

Miriam: I’m married now, Morty.

The words hang heavy in the air. Smith’s face falls, a mix of disappointment and resignation.

Smith: (sincerely) Married? That’s wonderful, Miriam. Congratulations.

Miriam, sensing Smith's discomfort, quickly changes the subject.

Miriam: How’s your research coming along? Still uncovering the secrets of the ancient world?

Smith: (sighing) Yes, it’s...going well. My latest manuscript is stuck at the printers, though. No idea when it will be out.

Miriam, ever curious, probes further.

Miriam: And how about your personal life? Are you seeing anyone?

Smith manages a half-hearted joke.

Smith: (laughs) I doubt very much I’ll ever get married. Guess I’m not the marrying type.

Miriam laughs on the other end, her voice full of warmth.

Miriam: Of course, you are, Morty. You’re going to be famous. You’ve discovered something of immense significance.

She asks for his birthdate, and Smith shares it, a bit puzzled by the request.

Miriam: (musing) Wow, you’re really getting up there. Hold on... I see something in the stars. You’re going to be famous, Morton. They’ll be talking about you long after your death.

Smith, intrigued but skeptical, asks about marriage.

Smith: (half-mockingly) And what about me getting married?

Miriam hesitates, her voice turning serious.

Miriam: You know, I’ve never seen this before...

Smith, now fully engaged, urges her to continue.

Smith: What is it?

Miriam chooses her words carefully.

Miriam: Don’t worry about it, Morty. I’m never sure whether it always gets things right.

The conversation shifts to Ethne, but Smith is distracted. He glances at a mirror on the wall, his reflection a stark reminder of the solitary life he leads. Miriam’s voice drones on, but Smith is lost in thought, the excitement of potential fame overshadowed by the loneliness of his reflection.

The camera slowly pulls back from Smith’s forlorn figure, leaving him enveloped in the shadows of his apartment, a solitary scholar surrounded by the ghosts of his past and the uncertainty of his future.

[Secret Alias]

Scene 21: 1973 - Morton Smith's Office, Columbia University

The scene opens in Morton Smith's office, a room filled with stacks of books and papers, indicative of a life dedicated to scholarship. The camera pans to Smith, now older, seated at his desk surrounded by open volumes and manuscripts. He’s poring over a freshly printed copy of his book, "Clement of Alexandria and a Secret Gospel of Mark," published by Harvard University Press.

Morton Smith (holding his book): After all these years... finally.

The camera shifts to show a small, framed photograph of the Mar Saba monastery on his desk, a reminder of where it all began.

Smith’s moment of triumph is short-lived. The telephone rings, and he hesitantly answers. On the other end is a reporter, probing for a sensational story about the controversies swirling around Smith's publication.

Reporter (voice-over): Professor Smith, with your publication now in the public eye, how do you respond to the increasing skepticism and allegations of forgery?

Morton sighs, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident on his face.

Morton Smith: I’ve dedicated years to understanding this manuscript, not fabricating it. The truth is in the scholarship, in the rigorous analysis. That’s where I stand.

Cut to a scene of Smith walking through the university campus, deep in thought. His internal struggle is palpable: the joy of his scholarly achievement overshadowed by the burgeoning controversy.

The scene transitions to a lecture hall, where Smith is presenting his findings to a mixed audience of academics, students, and reporters. The air is tense with anticipation and skepticism.

Morton Smith (presenting): The manuscript’s survival is indeed unusual, copied onto the endpages of a three-hundred-year-old book. But history is filled with the improbable. It's our job to explore these mysteries, not to shy away from them.

A hand shoots up in the audience, belonging to a stern-looking academic.

Skeptical Scholar: But Professor Smith, without physical access to the manuscript, how can we verify your claims? Isn’t this just a convenient narrative?

Morton faces the crowd, his expression one of unwavering conviction.

Morton Smith: Access is a challenge, I won’t deny. But we must work with what we have. My photographs, my analysis, they’re a starting point. Scholarship is about dialogue, about building on each other's work to edge closer to the truth.

The scene ends with Smith standing alone in the lecture hall after the audience has left, looking down at his book. He’s a figure of both accomplishment and controversy, caught in the storm of historical scrutiny.

The camera slowly zooms in on the book in his hands, then fades to black, leaving viewers to ponder the complex relationship between scholarship, faith, and the quest for historical truth.

The lecture hall is nearly empty, the audience having dispersed, leaving behind a palpable tension in the air. Morton Smith is seen carefully packing his lecture papers into a worn leather briefcase when a young man approaches him hesitantly. The young man, clearly nervous, has an air of vulnerability about him.

Young Man: Professor Smith, I don't mean to bother you.

Morton Smith (looking up with a half-smile): It's ok, son. What's your question?

There's a moment of hesitation as the young man gathers his thoughts, his vulnerability more apparent.

Young Man: What does it mean for me?

Morton Smith: I’m not sure I follow. What do you mean? What does scholarship have to do with anyone? It's a science. It's the pursuit of truth.

The young man looks down, then meets Smith's gaze with a newfound resolve.

Young Man: But what about my truth... Do you think I will ever be able to come out to my parents who are really religious?

Morton chuckles, not unkindly, but with a hint of cynicism.

Morton Smith: I doubt it.

The young man's expression hardens slightly, seeking something more.

Young Man: So, what's the big deal about this discovery?

Morton Smith: In scholarship, there is only the closing of doors.

The young man, with a tinge of sadness and defiance, responds.

Young Man: For people like me, there is only a closed door. The door that keeps us in the closet.

Smith stops what he’s doing and looks up, truly paying attention for the first time. The weight of the young man's words settling in.

Morton Smith: Yes...

There's a pause, heavy with unspoken understanding. Smith seems to search for something more to say, but words fail him. The young man nods, a silent acknowledgment of the shared moment of truth, then turns and walks away. Smith watches him go, a thoughtful expression on his face, as the scene fades to black.

Scene 22: Dinner at the Neusner Residence

The scene is cozy and warmly lit. MORTON SMITH, JACOB NEUSNER, SUZANNE NEUSNER, their children, and Koby, their yellow Labrador, gather around the dinner table. The table reflects a modest setup indicative of a family that values scholarly life over material luxuries.

JACOB NEUSNER
(smiling warmly)
We don't have television. Never really felt the need for one, plus there's the cost.

Suzanne nods in agreement, passing dishes to their children, who listen intently.

MORTON SMITH
(appreciatively)
It's quite alright. In fact, it's refreshing to be somewhere conversation is valued more.

Jacob, visibly proud to host his mentor, beams.

JACOB NEUSNER
Your discovery's been quite the buzz, Professor Smith. It's not often one gets to dine with someone who's redefined parts of early Christian history.

MORTON SMITH
(lightly)
Thank you, Jacob. It's been a journey. And how's life at Brown? Must be intellectually stimulating.

JACOB NEUSNER
(chuckles)
Who's being insincere now?

The scene is warm, with Suzanne refilling glasses as the dinner conversation dives deeper into academic and intellectual discussion.

JACOB NEUSNER
(thoughtfully)
It seems true learning's essence is watered down these days. It's shifted towards prioritizing social engineering over rigorous academic exploration.

MORTON SMITH
Indeed. The true pursuit of knowledge seems on unsteady footing. Universities appear to be forgetting their main mission.

Koby circles the table hopefully for fallen scraps. Jacob laughs softly, gently shooing the dog away before turning back to Morton.

JACOB NEUSNER
What's troubling is the move from intellectually challenging students to ensuring ideological alignment. It does a disservice to both the students and wider society.

MORTON SMITH
(reflectively, swirling his wine)
And in such an environment, groundbreaking research or unconventional theories meet resistance, if not outright hostility. Not exactly the breeding ground for critical thinking.

JACOB NEUSNER
Exactly. The meticulous care in preserving texts, the unwavering adherence to tradition—it's not merely about historical record-keeping. It's an act of faith, a testament to devotion to God.

MORTON SMITH
So you're suggesting the act of preservation becomes a sacred duty, akin to worship?

JACOB NEUSNER
Precisely. Each letter, each word holds divine significance. Scribes weren't just transcribing texts; they were part of a sacred tradition, a continuum of faith stretching back to Moses.

MORTON SMITH
(pondering)
Traditions change, though.

JACOB NEUSNER
Certainly. But it's a reminder that these texts aren't merely historical; they're alive, a pathway into the core of belief itself.

MORTON SMITH
A journey requiring both intellectual diligence and spiritual openness.

JACOB NEUSNER
(emphatically)
Exactly. And it's that delicate balance, the intersection between scholarly inquiry and spiritual depth, that presents such a profound challenge. The integrity of our texts, down to each individual letter, is critical. Even a minor alteration can completely transform our understanding. Tradition isn't solely about continuity; it's about safeguarding the precision of our sacred texts.

Morton nods, visibly intrigued by Neusner's insights yet holding onto his own academic curiosity.

MORTON SMITH
(pondering)
One change of a letter... from Adam adorned in garments of divine light...

Neusner interjects, emphasizing the significance of their discussion.

JACOB NEUSNER
(with conviction)
...to Adam clothed in mere animal skin. The correct interpretation is pivotal.

MORTON SMITH
(with a chuckle)
So, consensus dictates truth now? Jacob, you sound like a democrat.

Neusner laments the current state of education, suggesting a decline in the pursuit of absolute truths.

JACOB NEUSNER
The value of our role as educators seems to be diminishing in a society that blurs the lines between right and wrong.

Morton draws upon biblical wisdom in response.

MORTON SMITH
By your fruits be ye judged.

Neusner reflects on the unique perspectives offered by their respective religions.

NEUSNER
That’s from your tradition, Morton. In mine, the fate of the world hinges on the righteousness of a select few, one of whom I've had the honor of learning from.

MORTON SMITH
I think I know a thing or two about YOUR religion. (Smiles) I once came close to marrying a girl in Jerusalem.

As the conversation reaches a poignant moment, SUZANNE enters from the kitchen with a tray of coffee, catching the tail end of Morton's revelation.

SUZANNE
(curiously)
I've never heard that story before, Dr. Smith. You were almost married?

Morton hesitates, touched by the memory.

MORTON SMITH
Yes, but it was a long time ago.

Suzanne, sensing the delicacy of the subject, inquires further.

SUZANNE
Was she Jewish?

Jacob, half in jest, half protective of his mentor, interjects.

JACOB NEUSNER
Suzanne, let’s not bother my Doktorvater with such questions.

The scene fades as the discussion continues, illustrating the rich tapestry of personal history, academic pursuit, and cultural intersections that define their relationships.

[Secret Alias]

Scene 23 Imaginary Meeting between Quentin Quesnell and Morton Smith

INT. UNIVERSITY OFFICE - NIGHT

The scene is set in a dimly lit office, surrounded by shelves filled with ancient texts and artifacts. Morton sits across Quentin, with photographs scattered on the desk.

MORTON SMITH:
Quentin, thank you for coming. I hope you've had a chance to look over the photographs I sent you.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
Yes, Morton, I have. And I must say, your discovery has raised quite a few eyebrows. But I have concerns.

MORTON SMITH:
Concerns? About the manuscript's authenticity?

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
Precisely. You know as well as I do the importance of rigorous documentation. These photographs... they're inadequate. They should have been in color, Morton. And the cropping—it hides the page edges.

MORTON SMITH:
I understand your reservations. However, the conditions at Mar Saba, where I found the manuscript, were less than ideal. I did what I could.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
It's not just about the photos, Morton. Leaving the manuscript at Mar Saba... it's an insecure repository. How can we guarantee its safety? Its authenticity?

MORTON SMITH:
The monastery has been its home for centuries, Quentin. It felt right to leave it where it belongs.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
But without additional verification, without more eyes on the original, how can we move forward? You've left us in a position where we have to consider the possibility of forgery.

MORTON SMITH:
Forgery? You think I would fabricate such a discovery?

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
I'm not accusing you directly, Morton. But you must admit, the circumstances are... unusual. Your discovery could rewrite Christian history, yet we only have your word and these photos to go on.

MORTON SMITH:
I'm aware of how it looks. But I stand by my findings. The manuscript's content, its implications for our understanding of early Christian traditions... I couldn't just walk away from that.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
And yet, by not securing it properly, by not providing unassailable proof, you've left your discovery—and yourself—vulnerable to doubt.

MORTON SMITH:
So, what would you have me do, Quentin? The manuscript is where it is. I've shared all that I have.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
For a start, we need to find a way to get back to Mar Saba. We need to examine the manuscript firsthand, conduct scientific tests on the ink, the paper. We need more than just photographs, Morton.

MORTON SMITH:
Quentin, I hear your concerns. But you must understand, the conditions under which I worked were not ideal. Yes, the photographs were not perfect, but they were what I could manage under the circumstances.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
But Morton, the discrepancies in lighting and texture between the photos... These are not minor issues. They cast doubt on the entire discovery. And leaving the manuscript at Mar Saba, with all its reported lapses in security... You should have known better.

MORTON SMITH:
The monastery has been the manuscript's home for centuries. I believed it was secure there. And as for the photographs, I did my best to document the discovery. My intent was never to deceive.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
Good intentions aside, your decision has left this discovery open to question. Why didn't you involve other scholars or experts to corroborate your findings? That alone could have mitigated a lot of these doubts.

MORTON SMITH:
I understand that now. But at the time, I was more focused on the discovery itself. Perhaps I was naive to think that the academic community would take my word and the evidence I provided at face value.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
It's not about taking your word, Morton. It's about adhering to rigorous scholarly standards. Edgar Goodspeed laid out clear guidelines for a reason. By not following them, you've inadvertently opened the door to skepticism and doubt.

MORTON SMITH:
Perhaps you're right. In hindsight, I could have done things differently. But what matters now is how we move forward. The manuscript, its contents, they're what should be at the heart of this discussion. Not the conditions of its discovery.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
Moving forward means addressing these concerns head-on, Morton. If the manuscript is still where you left it, then there's work to be done. We need to ensure its safety, verify its authenticity, and then, maybe, we can begin to truly understand its significance.

MORTON SMITH:
What's this sudden interest in this manuscript? I announced the discovery almost twenty years ago.

QUENTIN QUESNELL:
But your findings were only published a few years ago.

MORTON SMITH:
That's not my fault.

Quentin pauses

QUENTIN QUESNELL
Listen, Morton, we're both lapsed priests.

Morton shifts uncomfortably but meets Quentin's gaze.

MORTON SMITH
I left voluntarily.

Quentin's expression softens slightly.

QUENTIN QUESNELL
I fell in love. No need to rehash old wounds.

Morton's expression hardens.

MORTON SMITH
You certainly seem content to reopen mine. QUENTIN QUESNELL
In my case, I saw no incompatibility between loving Jean and loving God.

Morton shifts uncomfortably, the personal turn of the conversation unwelcome.

MORTON SMITH
I really don't see what this has to do with the discovery.

Quentin leans forward, his voice earnest.

QUENTIN QUESNELL
I knew without Jean my life wouldn't be worth living.

The question hangs in the air, challenging.

MORTON SMITH
Do you still consider yourself a priest?

Quentin mirrors the challenge back to Morton.

QUENTIN QUESNELL
Do you?

Morton straightens, his reply firm.

MORTON SMITH
I consider myself a scholar. If you have any evidence to the contrary, do be the first to tell me.

Their eyes meet, a silent acknowledgment of the paths they've chosen.

[StephenGoranson]

iirc, Neusner was said to be a television watcher, according to a comment about his over-productivity.
Something of the sort: he did all that, but still watched TV at night.