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Our Lady of Fandom | Sunday Morning

A near constant in the past twenty years for Bobby was church on Sunday. The past ten or so had made Sundays the busiest day of his week, and while he supposed he could have gone off-island to continue that trend, he felt called instead to the old stone church on the island.

It wasn't nearly appropriate to celebrate a Eucharist in a church he was neither installed in or invited to, but that never had seemed to matter at Fandom, and after saying his own prayers, Bobby found himself moving through the liturgy, partially out of habit and partially because it felt very - and oddly - right.

He wasn't sure the last time the Eucharist had been celebrated in this church - and Bobby was pretty certain that it probably had not been celebrated recently with an overly large cinnamon roll he'd gotten from J,GoB before he realised where he was going to end up. His priest tools had wine and holy water, but Bobby had a dislike of those wafers that could last a thousand years and never packed them. So this very Fandom service had wine and cinnamon roll. It seemed appropriate.

[OOC: Open church! In the OCD threads, there's a bit of the sermon Bobby would give so would that be offensive to you, do be aware when you click]

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"And so Jesus tells us to be perfect," he said, working through a sermon that was barely half-finished. "It's an impossible idea. Even Jesus wasn't perfect. He lost his temper, snapped at the Pharisees, got frustrated with his own disciples. And if Jesus, the one we call Son of God can't be perfect, how can we be? Doesn't that just become another in a long list of requirements that we struggle to fill every day? One more brick in a load we can barely seem to carry? 'Be perfect just as your Heavenly Father is perfect.' Suddenly it's less a possibility and more just another way we fail every day.

But there is another way to think of it - the word translated here as “perfect” is teleios in the Greek. And teleios, in addition to perfect, also means whole, full, mature, dedicated, undivided, or even actualized. Teleios is what we are when we become the person God created us to be. And this word teleios is a variant of the word telos, which means end or goal. Our end or goal, is of course, the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom with different rules, different values, different qualities from the daily world most of us inhabit.

Maybe Jesus isn't telling us to be perfect - with all the instant burdens and failings that word implies - maybe, instead, he's telling us to live like it's true. Live like the world he envisioned in the Sermon on the Mount is true, live like the Kingdom of God is true. And then, just then, we can move a little closer to teleios."

Castiel sat towards the back of the church, marveling at the novelty of viewing a service from this end.

As much as this was not the church Dimitri had attended during his time in Fandom, it was Sunday and that called for some quiet time of reflection.

Amazing how Fandom actually allowed him to sit in quiet for a few moments. It was a miracle.

"You are so predictable," Rose murmured as she slid into the seat next to him. What? This was nearly a tradition.

"And you are a stalker," he answered quietly, lips tilted just enough that Rose would know he was teasing her but not that he was smirking outright in church.

She looked down to hide her own smile. "I'm here for the good of my soul," she replied under her breath.

Dimitri had to cover his mouth with his hand and fake a cough to cover that laugh. She always claimed she was there for the good of her soul, and he never could manage to believe her.

"Shhh, Dimitri, we're in church," Rose murmured, her eyes still lowered.

She was such a pain in the ass sometimes, and yet still his friend. "I am aware, Rose."

He wouldn't know what to do without her as a friend. It was a mutual feeling. "Shouldn't talk through the service."

"You're telling me that?" he murmured. It was good the priest didn't seem bothered by them.

She widened her eyes innocently then stayed silent for a moment before leaning over close to him. "It's weird in English."

"It's not Eastern Orthodox, either," Dimitri pointed out with a sigh.

"Now who's sounding parochial?" Rose murmured jokingly.

"I was merely pointing out another reason you might find it weird," he informed her.

She shot him a glare. "Thanks, comrade."

"Anytime," Dimitri promised, thinking his sons would probably enjoy seeing someone glaring at their father in church.

But of course Bobby is around if any wish to talk, side eye, whaatever.

"Excellent service," said the scruffy looking man who sounded (and possibly was) vaguely stoned. "Really, really just excellent. Very interesting interpretation of the text."

"Thank you," Bobby said, recognizing the vaguely stonedness (after growing up with his mom, how could he not?) but unconcerned about it. "I'm still working on it, I think, but I'm glad it seemed to make sense."

"Yes, yes, totally," Castiel assured him. "I like the bit about living like you've already got the Kingdom of Heaven. 'Cause I gotta tell you, Heaven's pretty cool? But Earth? Earth is just fantastic."

"I don't disagree," Bobby said with a grin. It was Fandom. He'd work on rolling with it. "I don't know about Heaven so much, but it seems like there's more than enough to do on Earth here for a good while."

['sall good!]

"Well. I do know Heaven." Entirely too well, really. "For you, it's basically your greatest hits collection, you know? Of your life. For eternity. And that can get very boring if you haven't done much here on Earth."

There was where the rolling with it stopped. "Are you referring to a literal heaven?" Bobby couldn't decide if he was going to geek out or stop to question what drugs the gentleman had taken if the answer was yes.

"Of course," said Castiel. Then he remembered he hadn't introduced himself. "I am Castiel. Current leader of the angels and custodian of Heaven."

Oh. Right. If there was anything Bobby had picked up in his studies was that not believing people who said they were angels could lead to bad things. Also yesterday he met his 'fake big sister' who still looked 16.

"Bobby McCallister," he replied, offering his hand before letting himself wonder if you shook hands with an angel. "Not nearly anything so important. It's an honour to meet you."

Castiel was entirely willing to shake hands. Now that he knew that that's what people did. "Now, now, don't belittle yourself. If you truly weren't important, you wouldn't exist."

"Nearly isn't the same thing as not at all," he pointed out, a little amused. "Normally I'd agree with you and say something about 'beloved child of God,' but that does seem a little...much."

"Yes, well, to be honest I've come to consider God to be a much more abstract concept." It was easier than thinking that He'd ditched Heaven, Earth, and everyone in them. "But yes, you are all loved."

"Really." Bobby was intrigued. "I'm not sure what I'd expected, but it surely wasn't to her an angel say that."

"Yes, well, there was a whole apocalypse thing, then a civil war, and it rather rearranged my feelings on the topic."

"Would this be Milton's civil war or something different?" he checked.

"Oh no, far, far more recent than that. About twenty of your years, here."

"Another universe that mine then," Bobby said thoughtfully. "At least I'd assume we'd notice that. I'm sorry to hear of it."

"Not necessarily. As I understand it, few humans are cognizant of the affairs of Heaven." Castiel tilted his head. "But yes, possibly a separate universe."

"I wouldn't begin to claim I could," he said instantly. "But I was hoping we might notice an apocalypse."

"The side effects, most certainly. I certainly hope your world is more peaceful than that."

Bobby had to consider for a moment - between the War of the Americas and the water wars and the everything else in the last twenty years, could one really say it was peaceful at all?

"We're working on it," he replied.

"That," Castiel decided, "is what's important."

He glanced over at Castiel with a smile. "Thanks. It's good to hear that from someone with perspective on the thing."

I have a priest. How can I not make a church post!

Also said sermon was partially adapted from one given by Rev. Kit Carlson because sadly I know not enough Greek to do that.

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Our Lady of Fandom | Sunday Morning

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OOC