This is a story I've been trying to crack for over 20 years. Growing up in a religious family that included both ordained ministers and secular outcasts (the vestments worn by Simon in the film were my grandfather's) questions of faith and disbelief were always top of mind, but not in a way that was easily articulated.

My first attempt was a farce about a preacher's son trying to get God's attention by building his own Tower of Babel… inside his stomach… made out of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. While Tim Robbins liked it enough to give me a handsome monetary prize for my efforts, I still hadn't told the story I was itching to tell.

My second attempt was a more grounded comedy – a full length play about a concierge mall service that could install any belief the user selects (and an art restorer who defaces sacred paintings with phalluses). Some very talented actors in Texas did fine work with that play, but the itch remained unscratched.

Both Babel Belly and The God Machine were enjoyable romps, but they focused too much on the wrong question (does God exist) rather than the more salient issue of how do we live in a world where that question cannot be answered.

The breakthrough came not from within but from without when my wife and creative partner, April Grace Lowe, agreed to join me in my efforts to write BEYOND METHUSELAH, and became one of the film's two mothers.

April had three key insights:

1. The film could not rely on the simple polarity of belief and disbelief. It required both spectrum, and someone who was outside it. April's work crafting the character of Morgan unlocked the heart of the film.
2. If we wanted a modern parallel for how dogmatic righteousness can destroy families, individual freedom, and so easily become a slippery slope to violence and terror, there was a clear analogy to pull from: abortion.
3. The ending… but to say more would be spoiling.

And so what began as a story about what we believe became a story about how we can love… about how painstakingly difficult it is to maintain the bridges that connect us, and how terrifyingly easy it is to burn them all down.

The film's second mother was Jamie Renée Smith, who was a stalwart directing partner. A true actor's director in every sense of the word, Jamie helped shape the honest, nuanced, and heart-breaking performances of the film.

Thank you April and Jamie for helping me scratch this twenty year itch, and finally bring this story to life.

- Craig Jessen