SAINT JULIAN ACCORDING TO HIS GOSPEL
(A Dreamy Urban Farce in One Act)
BY GAVARRE BENJAMIN
® BENJAMIN GAVARRE SILVA
CHARACTERS:
- JULIAN (60 years old, looks 48): Former philosophy professor at NYU. Athletic build, wearing pristine Alo Yoga gear and neon Nike sneakers. Sharp, sarcastic, using Stoicism and his noise-canceling headphones as a bunker against the chaos of NYC.
- THE WITNESS (TJ): Young, wearing a clean but modest suit, a briefcase, and a tablet. His politeness is so flawless it becomes passive-aggressive. His smile looks like it was drawn with a permanent marker.
- SISTER THOR (Hermenegildo): Wearing a nun’s habit and a three-day stubble that the veil can’t hide. Sells mysterious "convent steamed buns." Deep, booming baritone voice.
- THE COP (NYPD): An officer on a bicycle—the kind who gets outpaced by delivery guys on e-bikes. Cynical, chubby, and an exception to his peers: he reads books borrowed from neighbors while bored out of his mind on patrol.
- THE HALAL GUY: Street food vendor pushing his metal food cart. Cynical, pragmatic, with a loud, blaring speaker.
- DELIVERY GUY: An anxious young man working for DoorDash/Amazon Prime. Carries a massive delivery backpack, completely stressed out by the app's real-time performance metrics.
SETTING:
A remodeled brownstone apartment in a trendy neighborhood of New York City (Brooklyn or Astoria). A tiny iron fence separates the small front patio from the busy, loud sidewalk. What used to be a small parking space is now a patio cluttered with failed online impulse buys: a stationary bike, a leaf blower, a ridiculously large and rusty barbecue grill, an indecipherable inflatable structure, an aerobics step, and a massive CrossFit slam ball.
ONE-ACT PLAY
SCENE 1
(As the curtain rises, the stage is bathed in the light of a crisp New York morning. JULIAN, wearing massive wireless headphones, finishes an grueling set of exercises on his aerobic step. He pulls the headphones down around his neck and drinks from a metallic flask. In the background, very faint, a distant NYC subway rattle and car horns can be heard).
JULIAN
(Looking at his Apple Watch, addressing the audience)
Seven AM. Thirty minutes of cardio, ten minutes of mindfulness, and so far, nobody has tried to sell me counterfeit Rolexes, nor asked for directions to Times Square, nor tried to trim the nonexistent ivy on my fence—which I removed for a reason. Just like I always disconnect my buzzer so people don't come knocking to offer me cable upgrades, ask for donations for a street brass band, ask if I want to sell my apartment, or beg me to fill out a survey about the "vital importance" of smart streetlights and security cameras. Sure, Jan! Installation paid by me, monitoring done by me on my own laptop... Well, today I did leave the buzzer on because the ConEd meter reader is supposed to show up, and I have to take out the recycling and wait for the National Grid inspector... Oh, but most importantly, I’m on high alert because today... Today my Amazon package arrives with my smart lightbulbs, and my DoorDash delivery with my interactive protein shakers and those gel balls to reduce a double chin! Ugh... I just hope that if they see me out here in the patio, I won't get all the opportunists asking for tips for scraping the sidewalk, or guys offering to wash the car I don't even own. Or worse... those who promise me eternal paradise in heaven, or those who warn me that the end of days is scheduled for thirty-five hours from now and that I need to be more empathetic with my fellow man because the Rapture is coming and only the pure of heart will inherit the Earth... Ah, poor pure souls... Alright... so far, the scrap metal truck hasn't passed by blaring its megaphone... If they don't show up today, I’ll consider it proof that God exists. But if the scrap metal truck and the bagel cart show up at the exact same time... Ah! Then I’ll be certain that God does not exist, or at the very least, He has abandoned us. At least around here we don't get the tourist bus megaphones or the subway buskers. No, let me shut up. Jesus of Nazareth! I better not summon them... shouldn't talk about street drummers, or earthquakes, or Jehovah’s Witnesses. No, sir.
(Suddenly, a sharp "clank, clank!" is heard on the iron fence. Julian flinches and touches his face).
JULIAN
It’s raining pebbles... Either some lawn gnome I bought on a flash sale is trying to communicate with me, or some invisible entity wants me to let its friend out to play on the sidewalk...
(Another "clinck!" hits him right on the nose. JULIAN sneezes, closes his eyes, and wipes his face with a napkin. A shadow passes quickly along the sidewalk. JULIAN peers out).
JULIAN
Hello?
(No one answers. He closes the patio gate. Another shadow crosses swiftly. JULIAN flings the gate open).
JULIAN
Who's there?!
(No response. JULIAN walks back to the center of the patio and blows his nose. At that exact moment, appearing out of nowhere from a corner of the fence, THE WITNESS steps forward. His frozen smile gleams in the sunlight. He taps the iron railing three times with a pen: clinc, clinc, clinc!).
THE WITNESS
Beautiful morning, beautiful day... and beautiful...
JULIAN
(Sighing with a sarcastic smile)
And beautiful me, right? Three taps on my fence... That was a pebble. The one you used to make that lovely little sound on... my fence? What do you want?
THE WITNESS
The message is for those who want to hear it, and also for those who don't know what they want.
JULIAN
How deep. Especially since it’s seven in the morning... Save your breath. Get lost!
THE WITNESS
I am here to share an inescapable certainty with you. We are warned that in the final days, critical times, hard to bear, will arrive. If you look around, every day we get worse. Have you noticed human suffering? How the governments of the world only unleash wicked wars, and Babylon the Great unleashes her perverse hands upon the most miserable of the innocent? Armageddon is just around the corner, Mr. Julian.
JULIAN
(Leaning on his stationary bike, amused)
Ah, great... Hold on, I have a call.
(JULIAN taps his Apple Watch, adjusts his headphones, and pretends to talk to someone at the top of his lungs, completely ignoring the Witness).
JULIAN
Allo! Yeah, took you long enough. Did you hit traffic on the BQE? It’s always like that... I stayed in bed for a bit, then had my green juice, did my workout, and now I’m talking to an imbecile... What? Oh, yeah, he barely knows how to speak, but that’s his job... Let me get rid of him and I’ll call you back, babe... Today my balls arrive... The gel ones, dummy! Whatever... talk to you later.
(JULIAN takes off his headphones and glares at the Witness).
JULIAN
Hey, where did you learn how to syntax? "How someone unleashes her perverse hands upon the most miserable of the innocent?" Meaning what? Babylon the Great unleashed her perverse hands because someone had kidnapped her? And then, since she was tied up, she untied herself? And then she went straight for the most miserable of the innocent, who just happened to be standing there? I mean, she did that instead of escaping, which is what I would have done... just like I want to escape from you and this stupid conversation right now! Have I not told you already that I am not interested in anything you have to say?
THE WITNESS
(In a fanatical tone)
The "Absolute Truth" is that the "critical times" of misery and famine will arrive, and those who are taken on the day of gathering will be the only ones saved. Those who remain will suffer the plagues of the riders of the Apocalypse. But if any are found worthy through their faith, they shall be saved for all eternity. Look, I have this magazine that explains everything.
JULIAN
We suffer the seven riders on any given Tuesday in New York City. What do you really want? My eternal salvation, or are you just trying to hit your monthly magazine quota so your congregation doesn't scold you?
THE WITNESS
(His smile tightens by a millimeter, but doesn't break. He takes a step INSIDE the patio, crossing the line of the fence)
It’s not a quota, Mr. Julian. It’s love for thy neighbor. Skepticism and violence make us stronger; we are martyrs of rejection. But if even one lamb from the flock is saved, we will be more than satisfied... For it is written in the scriptures: he who bows his head is worthy of forgiveness, and the foundations of loneliness will end when the destroying angel saves those worthy of compassion.
JULIAN
(Stepping back, measuring the invasion of his personal space)
I know Genesis very well, my friend. It’s a very entertaining book, but I prefer the Song of Solomon, or the Book of Job... I admire the faith of those who have everything figured out with just one book to read. I, who had to read a thousand books a month, am amazed that some people have life completely solved with a good edition of the Bible. Everything solved, how easy! It’s like playing chess knowing your opponent is going to make the exact same move every single time... and that way, you always win.
THE WITNESS
(Steps fully into the patio, to Julian's sheer indignation. With absolute casualness, the Witness sits on the stationary bike and begins to pedal)
The times will come when the faithless will have all the words but none of the reasons... Hey, can I have this bike? It’s pretty obvious you don't even use it.
JULIAN
What makes you think...? Hey! Who invited you in?
SCENE 2: THE OCCUPATION
(Without asking for permission, SISTER THOR stomps into the patio. Her heavy steps make the concrete vibrate. She carries a wicker basket with a sign that reads: "MYSTERIOUS STEAMED BUNS." The buns are tightly wrapped in plastic).
JULIAN
And what about you?! Who are you people and why are you trespassing in my home?!
SISTER THOR
(With a deep baritone voice that immediately reveals the man beneath the habit)
Steamed buns! Gluten-free, sugar-free, better than Chinatown's! All handmade at the convent of the sisters of faith... Very good, flying buns with a special touch of... vanilla.
JULIAN
(Looks her up and down, staring at the thick chinstrap beard under the veil. He raises an eyebrow)
Hey... friend, Mother Superior... I don't know what convent you broke out of, but your costume is terrible... Flying buns?
THE WITNESS
(Indignated, he gets off the stationary bike, sniffs around the nun's basket, and turns to Julian with disapproval)
I knew it... You are a child of... temptation. (To Sister Thor) Are you absolutely sure they are gluten-free?
SISTER THOR
(A vein pops on her neck. She takes a step toward Julian, pinning him against the stationary bike. She speaks in her natural baritone voice, completely dropping the religious act)
I made them myself... With coconut flour... Not too much, you know, because then it gives you a headache... But each bun is a stairway to heaven... And if you like 'em, I’ll bring you more next Tuesday.
THE WITNESS
(Reconsidering. He steps in between them with his smile intact and touches Julian's arm)
Mr. Julian, please, do not fall into the sin of the easy path. The Sister is an obvious manifestation of the serpent trying to tempt you and drag you to Gehenna ahead of time.
JULIAN
(Fascinated by the absolute absurdity, laughing)
This is pure genius! You’re threatening me with eternal damnation, but your eyes totally lit up when the sister offered her flying brownies! It’s beautiful!
SISTER THOR
Steamed!
JULIAN
What?
SISTER THOR
If you want brownies, they’re more expensive, you know, because of the... ingredients. But my steamed buns, you know, you just steam 'em up...
JULIAN
Oh, I see, brother, how resourceful!
(Suddenly, a loud, blaring speaker echoes from the street: "CHICKEN OVER RICE! LAMB OVER RICE! BEST HALAL IN TOWN!". THE HALAL GUY pushes his heavy metal food cart right into the center of the patio. He stops, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it, leaving the speaker playing the loud advertisement on an infinite, deafening loop).
JULIAN
(Covering one ear, yelling at the Halal Guy)
Hey, buddy! It’s great that you're running a business, but you just pushed your entire food cart into my private property! And turn that speaker off, please, you're going to burst my eardrums!
THE HALAL GUY
(Turns off the sound abruptly. He sits down calmly on Julian's wooden crate)
Don't sweat it, boss. The sun shines for everybody. You got good shade here, and your awning blocks the heat. If you want me to move, buy out my whole tray of chicken over rice, or do whatever you want. I ain't moving from here until my shift is over.
SCENE 3: THE LAW OF THE STREETS
(An NYPD COP rides into the patio slowly on a patrol bicycle. His hands rest on his duty belt, which creaks under the weight of his nightstick, radio, and belly).
THE COP
Alright, alright... What do we have here? We got a report on the precinct community chat about a verbal altercation involving a minister of faith and a registered street vendor.
THE HALAL GUY
Certified. I’m a certified vendor, ISO 9000.
JULIAN
Officer, thank God you're here! Please, clear out my patio. This guy parked his food cart inside my property, the kid in the suit wants to send me to Armageddon, and as for this "nun," I better not tell you what she’s actually selling or we’ll all end up at Riker's Island. Enforce the rule of law!
THE COP
(Looks at the Halal Guy, then at the Nun, and finally at Julian. He pulls out an old notepad)
Look, professor... All I see here is a conflict of neighborhood intolerance. The Sister is exercising her right to artisanal commerce, the young man in the suit is exercising his freedom of worship protected by the Constitution, and our friend with the halal cart is just hustling for his daily bread in a public transitional space. Don't get elitist with me, Julian.
THE HALAL GUY
Yeah, damn it, Julian, stop being so damn elitist.
JULIAN
A public transitional space?! It’s my patio! I have the lease and the deed in my living room! Does anyone in this entire zip code have any concept of empirical logic?!
THE COP
(Adjusts his cap with the sly smile of someone who read a few pages of a textbook in college)
Empirical logic doesn't grant eviction notices, boss. In fact, if we look at the texts, you cannot empirically prove whether the halal cart belongs here or on the corner. Until we have a forensic report of the universe, this is a technical tie. What is "here" and what is "there"? Do we truly exist? Is this life a reality, or is it just a dream within a dream? As Immanuel Kant wrote in the Critique of Pure Reason: when in doubt, let the community work.
JULIAN
(Eyes wide open, dumbfounded)
No way... You are quoting Kant to me! Kant... actual Kant? I am definitely having a nightmare! Get out of my yard, all of you! Get out of my dream!
THE HALAL GUY
Kant-Kant! Can-can!
THE WITNESS
(Seizing the chaos, cornering Julian against the wall)
That is not the truth, Julian! You live in sin. You must accept that you don't need any of those things you buy!
JULIAN
Why are you calling me Julian? Who told you my name is Julian?!
THE COP
We all know you, Julian... You're the guy who likes steamed bread.
THE HALAL GUY
You like steamed bread, you like it, you like it...
SISTER THOR
Steamed buns, but he also likes the brownies.
THE COP
Hey, and who doesn't?
JULIAN
This is impossible... You too, Officer?
THE COP
What? They’re delicious, ain't they?
THE WITNESS
(Grabs Julian by the arms, surrounding him)
Julian, accept it, you live in sin. The flames, the eternal flames are coming! Accept the magazine, stop buying things on installment plans, don't buy leaf blowers, don't buy CrossFit balls, don't be an atheist. Believe there is only one true God. Come with me to the temple, we will pray together, we will defeat the beast... There is only one true God.
JULIAN
Hey, don't touch me! You don't even know how to use proper syntax!
THE WITNESS
You cannot deny the existence of God...
JULIAN
Nor can I affirm it, that’s why I’m an agnostic! Do you understand? I already said it, I AM AN AGNOSTIC!
THE WITNESS
An ag... ag... what?
SISTER THOR
God forbid.
THE HALAL GUY
Man, I’m outta here... This is too much.
JULIAN
(Adopting his old professor persona, with sheer smugness and erudition)
Please! What utter, supreme ignorance! Agnostic comes from the Greek a (without) and gnosis (knowledge). Agnosticism is the philosophical stance that holds that the existence of God, the divine, or the supernatural is unknowable to human reason. Great minds like Thomas Henry Huxley, who coined the term, Bertrand Russell, or Immanuel Kant himself posited that reason can neither prove nor deny the absolute! We are not dogmatic atheists; we are rational skeptics!
(A deathly silence falls. They all look at each other, utterly bewildered).
THE HALAL GUY
Ah, I get it! Agnostic comes from "Ag," which means "Thy will," and "nostic," which comes from "God." So: "Thy will be done, God." It’s a clandestine divine message! You’re a prophet, professor!
THE WITNESS
Exactly! Furthermore, agnostic comes from "ass," meaning a donkey, and "tic," like a nervous twitch. So: a twitching donkey that refuses to read free magazines.
SISTER THOR
No, no, no! Agnosticism is when you get a medical diagnosis in August. August-Diagnosis! Meaning you’re gonna die soon if you don't buy my butter-free cookies.
JULIAN
(Holding his head, desperate)
STOP BEING SO STUPID! It’s a philosophical stance, you can't just insult me by making up nonsense!
THE COP
(Blowing his whistle to demand order)
Alright, quiet, you numbskulls! Let the expert speak. (To the audience, very simple and natural) Look... being agnostic basically means you don't have faith in God... but you don't deny the possibility that He exists either, because at the end of the day, nobody has ever come back from the afterlife with a TikTok video to prove it. Meaning: "Who knows, maybe yes, maybe no." Am I right, prof?
JULIAN
(Surprised and relieved)
Exactly, Officer! Finally, someone with a gram of gray matter!
THE COP
Oh, I know all about it... Agnostics not only are not atheists, but they also...
THE HALAL GUY
Alright, Officer, your five minutes of fame are over. Let's talk about something else...
THE COP
Excuse me, Mr. Halal Guy, I am a man of academia. I’ve read a thousand books...
THE HALAL GUY
Oh yeah? 'Cause I always see you just standing around doing nothing. You better get a motor for that bike so the perps don't keep running away from you, 'cause right now they just whistle as they pass you by...
THE COP
I have read Kierkegaard! And Mario Puzo! And Harry Potter!
THE WITNESS
Sinners, you are all sinners... But the worst of all is this miserable professor, because he thinks he's right. He is prideful and must be destroyed! Let’s end him! Or he will burn eternally in the fires of hell, listen to me!
(Nobody pays attention to the Witness. Suddenly, the DELIVERY GUY bursts into the patio riding an electric bicycle, carrying a massive box and skillfully dodging the halal cart).
DELIVERY GUY
Julian de la Torre?! Amazon Prime! I got your slam balls and your protein shakes! Give me the delivery PIN code fast, the app is docking me ten bucks for every minute I’m stopped in this high-conflict zone! Give me the code!
JULIAN
The code is... the code is...! I don't remember! I don't have it! Why is everyone inside my property?! Get out, this is a home invasion!
SCENE 4: THE WITNESS BREAKS AND THE CLIMAX
(All the characters begin to generate an uncontrollable, deafening wall of sound. The noise becomes unbearable: The Halal Guy turns his speaker back on, looping his ad infinitely: "CHICKEN OVER RICE! LAMB OVER RICE!". The Delivery Guy screams in his face: "THE CODE!!!". Sister Thor stuffs a whole steamed bun into her mouth and begins to dance like a maniac, shouting: "Light my fire, light my fire!". THE COP blows his traffic whistle directly into Julian's ear: FIUUUUU!).
JULIAN
(Desperate, at the very edge of sanity, grabs his noise-canceling headphones and slams them onto his head)
That’s it! Noise-canceling activated! Goodbye to your wretched New York surrealism!
(The sound design of the play shifts drastically. The street noise drops to a muffled, dull hum, and a beautiful, pristine violin melody by Bach sweeps in. The other characters continue to scream in slow motion, moving their hands rigidly like a choreographed nightmare. Julian closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and smiles, savoring his technological victory. Suddenly: BEIP... BEIP... BEEEEP! A sharp, high-pitched low-battery alert interrupts the classical music).
ELECTRONIC VOICE FROM HEADPHONES (V.O.)
Battery low. Power off. (A short-circuit sound: Pfff!).
(The silence and the classical music vanish instantly. The roar of the city hits back at three hundred percent. The cop's whistle, the screams, and the halal ad hit Julian like a physical slap. Julian rips the headphones off, horrified).
JULIAN
No! Not the battery! Damn cheap batteries that never last!
THE WITNESS
(Finally losing his mind, eyes bloodshot, grabs Julian violently by his Alo Yoga shirt, completely ripping his polite facade to shreds and screaming with a rage-filled voice)
You know what, Julian?! I am sick and tired of you ignoring the call of faith! I’ve invested my entire morning in you! Either you repent for your sins and take my damn magazine, or I will personally drag you to hell right now! Do you hear me?! Do you understand me, you little piece of shit?!
(A stunned silence falls over the patio. All the characters freeze at the profanity and the absolute breakdown of the Witness. Julian stares at him, and instead of being terrified, a wide, manic smile of absolute satisfaction spreads across his face).
JULIAN
(Eyes gleaming, laughing with hysterical madness)
Yes! I get it! I broke your little polite robot programming! You became human! You insulted me beautifully! You broke! This is wonderful!
ALL
(Reacting in unison, pulling out street-vendor megaphones out of nowhere. They surround him in a suffocating circle, advancing and forcing him to retreat toward the inside of his own apartment)
ARMAGEDDON! CHICKEN OVER RICE! STEAMED BREAD! AMAZON PRIME! GIVE ME THE CODE, MAN! THE CODE, THE CODE, NO CODE NO PACKAGE!
THE COP
(Blowing his whistle non-stop)
Repent with Kant, professor, because you ain't leaving until you pay the bail of reason!
ALL
(Screaming directly into his ears, their voices distorting and blending together)
HEY!!! ANSWER US, MR. JULIAN!!! HEY!!! WHAT IS THE CODE?! WAKE UP! Amazon Prime! We're at the door! Mr. Julian? We're here!
(Julian stumbles backward blindly, trips over his stationary bike, and falls flat on his back into the darkness of his living room. The mob of characters swarms into the apartment after him like a wave, devouring him in a whirlwind of limbs, aprons, habits, and clipboards).
(IMMEDIATE BLACKOUT AND A SHARP, LOUD DRUM HIT).
THE END
