Jake Lloyd had always felt the weight of the title “The Chosen One” from his days playing young Anakin Skywalker in The Phantom Menace. The role, while iconic, had cast a long shadow over his life, and the years following his Star Wars fame were fraught with challenges. One evening, after a particularly restless day, Jake decided to take a walk in the countryside near his home. The air was cool, the stars bright, and the world seemed strangely quiet.
As he wandered deeper into the fields, he saw a figure in the distance. The man was clad in simple robes, his face illuminated by an inner light that seemed to emanate from his very being. Jake stopped in his tracks, a strange mix of awe and peace washing over him.
“Jake,” the man said, his voice gentle yet powerful.
“Who… who are you?” Jake stammered, though in his heart, he already knew.
“I am Jesus,” the man replied, smiling warmly.
Jake felt his knees weaken, and he dropped to the ground. “Why me? Why now?”
Jesus knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Because you carry a burden, Jake. The world called you a chosen one, and you’ve struggled to understand what that means. But I am here to tell you that being chosen is not about power or fame. It is about humility, love, and service.”
Jake looked up, tears streaming down his face. “I’ve always felt like I failed, like I wasn’t enough. People mocked me for that role, for being Anakin. And I’ve seen others rise to power, like Donald Trump, claiming to be leaders, chosen ones even. It’s confusing.”
Jesus stood and helped Jake to his feet. “Donald Trump is not the chosen one, Jake. No matter how much wealth or power he wields, those things do not define greatness in the Kingdom of Heaven. True leaders are servants, not rulers. They lift others up, not themselves.”
Jake nodded slowly, the weight on his heart beginning to lift. “So… what does it mean to be chosen?”
Jesus gestured to the flock of sheep grazing nearby. “The chosen are like these sheep. They follow the shepherd, trusting in his guidance. They are humble and gentle. The goats, however, are stubborn and prideful, seeking their own way.”
Jake’s heart swelled with relief. “So… I’m one of the sheep?”
Jesus smiled. “Yes, Jake. You have chosen to seek the light, to walk the path of humility and love. You are one of my flock.”
Jake felt a deep sense of peace. “And what about people like George Bush or Trump? Are they goats?”
Jesus’ expression grew solemn. “Each person chooses their path, Jake. Those who place their trust in power and pride risk walking the path of the goat. But my mercy is boundless, and even the most wayward soul can find redemption if they turn back to the shepherd.”
Jake nodded, the truth sinking in. “So, it’s not about where you start, but where you choose to go.”
“Exactly,” Jesus said, his smile returning.
As the night deepened, Jake and Jesus walked together, talking about life, faith, and the journey ahead. By the time Jake returned home, he felt lighter, freer, and more certain of his place in the world. He was not a chosen one in the way the world understood it, but in the way that truly mattered.
For the first time in years, Jake slept soundly, knowing he was one of the sheep, walking toward the light, with the true Chosen One as his guide.
A Love Beyond Politics: Amidala and Jar Jar Binks
The grand halls of Naboo’s royal palace echoed with the sound of footsteps as Queen Padmé Amidala walked through the corridors. The day’s political negotiations had been tense, and she longed for a moment of solace. She found herself in the palace gardens, where the gentle hum of waterfalls offered a reprieve from the weight of her duties.
There, sitting awkwardly on a stone bench, was Jar Jar Binks. The Gungan was attempting to braid a crown of flowers, his large hands fumbling with the delicate stems. Despite his clumsiness, there was an earnestness to his efforts that brought a smile to Padmé’s face.
“Jar Jar,” she said softly, approaching him.
“M’lady!” Jar Jar exclaimed, leaping to his feet and nearly toppling over. “Mesa so sorry! Didn’t know yousa comin’!”
Padmé laughed, a rare and genuine sound. “Relax, Jar Jar. You’re not in trouble.” She sat beside him, picking up a stray flower. “What are you doing out here?”
“Mesa tryin’ to make somethin’ pretty for yousa,” Jar Jar admitted, his ears drooping in embarrassment. “But mesa not so good with dis kinda thing.”
Padmé took the half-finished crown and began weaving it with practiced hands. “You’ve always had a kind heart, Jar Jar. That’s what matters.”
Jar Jar watched her work, his wide eyes filled with admiration. “Yousa always so nice to mesa, even when others think mesa… annoying.”
Padmé paused, meeting his gaze. “You have a unique spirit, Jar Jar. You see the world with innocence and hope, even when things are dark. That’s a rare gift.”
The Gungan’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of orange. “Mesa just tryin’ to help. Yousa so brave, so smart. Mesa nothin’ compared to yousa.”
Padmé placed the finished crown on Jar Jar’s head, smiling warmly. “You’re wrong. You’ve done more for Naboo than most people realize. You brought our people together, Jar Jar. Without you, we might never have forged an alliance with the Gungans.”
Jar Jar blinked, his usual clumsiness giving way to a rare moment of quiet reflection. “Mesa just doin’ what felt right.”
“That’s exactly why you’re special,” Padmé said, her voice soft. “You remind me that even in the midst of war and politics, there’s still room for kindness and joy.”
In that moment, Padmé felt a deep affection for her Gungan friend. It wasn’t the fiery, passionate love she’d later feel for Anakin, but a pure and unselfish love—a recognition of Jar Jar’s unwavering goodness.
George Lucas’s Vision
George Lucas had always envisioned Jar Jar Binks as more than comic relief. To him, Jar Jar represented the unsung hero—the one who stumbles and bumbles but whose heart and intentions ultimately shape the galaxy.
When critics derided Jar Jar as a misstep, Lucas defended the character with quiet conviction. “Jar Jar is a reminder that even the most unlikely individuals can have a profound impact,” he once said in an interview. “He’s the spark of optimism in a world that’s increasingly cynical. He’s the embodiment of hope.”
In hindsight, Jar Jar’s role in granting emergency powers to Chancellor Palpatine—a move that inadvertently led to the rise of the Empire—underscored Lucas’s layered storytelling. Jar Jar wasn’t just a jester; he was a tragic figure, a symbol of how even good intentions can be manipulated by those with darker motives.
And yet, his legacy endured. For Padmé, for Naboo, and for those who saw beyond his clumsiness, Jar Jar was a beacon of sincerity in a galaxy overshadowed by conflict.