#JESUS LIGHT OF THE WORLD SHINE UPON US

[conjectureand-gloom]

spamming christian primary school hymn songs in my taylor swift gc :)

@like-the-stars-i-shine (you aren’t on this gc but. you went to said christian primary school and yk which hymn i mean- look at the tags)

[katakaluptastrophy]

TLT meta post suggestion: explain the biblical significance of Paul to someone who knows jackshit about Christianity?

Paul is what happens when a clever person with establishment clout has a searing moment of metaphysical transformation that allows them to become a real nuisance...

The very TL;DNR version of Paul in Christianity (Bible!Paul, if you will) is that he was once an observant Jew called Saul who was involved in persecuting the early church. But one day, while enthusiastically doing this, he is struck blind by a huge flash of light and hears the voice of Jesus. From that point on he is known as "Paul", becomes an enthusiastic follower of Jesus, and helps to spread the gospel. Specifically, he is referred to as the 'apostle to the gentiles', taking the teachings of Jesus beyond its early Jewish roots to the wider Mediterranean world.

On a basic level, Necro!Paul being 'Paul' is probably a reference to that blazing moment of transformation - Bible!Paul is both continuity and change: the same passion, but expressed very differently. Well-educated, willing to cause trouble, and energised by something beyond the human norm.

But it's their speech to Ianthe where the Biblical stuff really starts to come through. It's worth noting that letters written by Bible!Paul (or 'written by him') account for nearly half of the books of the Christian New Testament and are hugely foundational in Christian theology.

And Necro!Paul's speech to Ianthe is full of Biblical references:

"I know how hard it is for you to kick against the goad," said the new person. "But there are more worlds than this. Come with us. We are the love that is perfected by death - but even death will be no more; death can also die."

That first line, 'kick against the goad', is a direct reference to Paul's 'Road to Damascus' moment where he hears Jesus:

I saw in the way a light from heaven above the brightness of the sun, shining round about me, and them that were in company with me. And when we were all fallen down on the ground, I heard a voice speaking to me in the Hebrew tongue: Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? It is hard for thee to kick against the goad. And I said: Who art thou, Lord? And the Lord answered: I am Jesus whom thou persecutest. - Acts 26:13-15

To kick against the goad (or, in the slightly more colourful language of the KJV 'kick against the pricks') is to engage in an excercise in futility. It's a reference to an ox goad, a sharp instrument used to steer oxen in farming, which would hurt the animal if it tried to kick against it instead of following where it was being directed.

It's an acknowledgement that Ianthe is doing something that rubs profoundly up against the metaphysical grain, that her own proud self-direction will only hurt her in the end.

'More worlds than this' is a reference to Hamlet, which Dulcie of course also quotes in TUG. (Hamlet rather seems to haunt the question of the River Beyond, but that's not what we're discussing right now...)

'We are the love that is perfected by death' is, I suspect, meant to reference two different Bible verses. The first is:

Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames. - Song of Solomon 8:6

Despite centuries of the church trying to claim that it's about the spiritual relationship between God and man, the Song of Solomon is now generally accepted to be a sexy poem about sex. So that's an interesting thing for the fusion of Palamedes and Camilla to quote... But perhaps more salient here is what's contrasted to the strength of love and death, which is jealousy and hell. Ianthe is being offered a chance at redemption - which is of course Bible!Paul's whole thing - which she summarily rejects. I'm sure, given NTN ending with Harrow going off to, one assumes, er, harrow hell, that this won't be relevant at all...

The other verse that 'love that is perfected by death' may be referencing is:

In this is the charity of God perfected with us, that we may have confidence in the day of judgment: because as he is, we also are in this world. Fear is not in charity: but perfect charity casteth out fear, because fear hath pain. And he that feareth, is not perfected in charity. Let us therefore love God, because God first hath loved us. If any man say, I love God, and hateth his brother; he is a liar. For he that loveth not his brother, whom he seeth, how can he love God, whom he seeth not? And this commandment we have from God, that he, who loveth God, love also his brother. - 1 John 4:17-21

The quotation in the Douay-Rhiems translation (apparently the preferred translation of lesbian necromancers in space, if Gideon the Ninth is anything to go by) is a little opaque, but 'charity' is an old timey way of translating 'love'. Essentially, this passage says that those who love God and are loved by God do not need to fear the day of judgement, and clarifies a bit about what it means to love God.

There are two things that are important.

The first is that this is from 1 John. There are five Biblical texts associated with St John: the Gospel of John, the Book of Revelation, and three Epistles (letters). Revelation is John's vision of the end of the world - and if you're wondering whether it's relevant that The Locked Tomb features a guy called John who ends the world, yes, it is - but the Epistles were written right at the end of his life. And 1 John has two themes that might be relevant to The Locked Tomb: the first is the question of what it means to love god (spoiler: the answer is not 'dinner and a movie'), and the second is whether your actions matter.

The second thing that might be relevant here is that just before this in 1 John 4, there is a warning about not heeding false prophets. Specifically, it warns about the antichrist. You know, the thing Necro!John says he was repeatedly accused of being? The point is that love - love properly understood - can protect you from the wiles of the antichrist. Probably not a relevant theme as we head off into the 'you have not yet begun to witness the horrors of love' book where people are presumably facing down a pretender god...

The final part of Paul's speech to Ianthe - 'death will be no more' - is also Johannine: this time from Revelation:

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes: and death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away. - Revelation 21:4

This comes from a section where the Biblical John watches as the old world is destroyed and the new Jerusalem descends from Heaven. Death and sorrow are ended, and the righteous will rule with God. The sinful have a less fun time of it, involving fire and brimstone and 'the second death'. If that sounds familiar, it's because Necro!John cribbed that particular bit when making up his shoddy Space Catholicism (TM). (The implications of this really deserves a much longer treatment, so watch this space...)

One of the nice things about Tamsyn Muir's Biblical parallels is they're not generally exact. But it's perhaps relevant to note that amongst Bible!Paul's rather dramatic adventures are quite a few instances of casting demons out of people, starting at least one riot, shipwreck, and an "Incident at Antioch". Also...it's probably not relevant that the writings of St Paul were the turning point in the conversion of St Augustine...specifically a section about how the end of the world is nigh so you'd better get your act together...

All in all, Paul is...a very niche joke about Plato, hopefully not a joke about Dune, and mostly very, very apocalyptic. A new beginning at the end of the world! An offer of redemption to those swimming against the current! A warning to false gods! A sign that the end is nigh! All of which suggests Alecto the Ninth is going to be a wild ride (as if we didn't know that already).

[beevean]

in your opinion, top 5 worst idw moments, and why

Just 5? How am I supposed to choose? D:

5) Sonic equating Eggman trying to conquer the world out of deliberate malice with Shadow trying to destroy the world because he was brainwashed into being a tool for destruction by his own creator, literally using Shadow's deepest trauma as a cruel gotcha - the same behaior Black Doom engaged in.

4) Tangle blurting out the name of Whisper's dead comrades because she thought they were cool, accidentally revealing her trauma to Lanolin who at the time didn't know her. Tangle's apology takes one shitty panel and it's played for laughs with her exaggerated expression. Whisper's takes a whole page and it boils down to her apologizing for having that pesky PTSD that makes her so irritable. This is what passes as ship development.

3) Lanolin being an utter cunt to Silver, speaking to him like she's his mom and disrespecting his credentials, and Whisper, by slamming her into the ground with a sneer on her face, because she has just decided that a random rookie is more credible than two veterans.

2) Sonic letting Metal go because he apparently believed that the robot programmed to be loyal to Eggman (as literally said by Metal) would have the ability to choose, let alone choose to betray Eggman. This causes the Metal Virus apocalypse, but Sonic never has to question his own choice, since the narrative chooses to build up a stupid moral dilemma about Mr. Tinker.

1) Everything about Sonic in #50. From him being a prick to Tails with his valid concerns about Metal, to that stupid horrible panel where he jerks off over how awesome his philosophy is while the light of God shines upon him, to the most terrifying line you could put into his mouth: "That's the problem with giving people choices, you can't stop them from making the wrong ones." Jesus Christ what the fuck is that, that is certainly not my Sonic.

[cozyaliensuperstar7]

Beautiful Black Women 👑

essence:

Halle Bailey, how lucky are we to be part of your world! There have been waves of unsolicited opinions about you and it’s time to silence the storm! The comments aren’t just nosey - they show entitlement to Black women’s bodies and the last time we checked, no one owes us an explanation for anything. To any and everyone who thinks otherwise, swim along but more importantly - stay out of Black women's business! 🫶🏾 #ESSENCE 📸: ESSENCE Archives Getty

essence:

They say laughter is the best medicine and if that’s the truth, Regina Hall is our resident doctor. But it’s more than just the jokes for us. It’s the kind soul that shines through. Thank you for putting a smile on our face and showing that pretty girls can be funny too!

teyanataylor:

Father God, Let me tell you something about your FAVOR, your favor can’t be stopped! Lord, You told me in John 8:12 that, you are the light of the world & if I followed you I wouldn’t have to walk in darkness, because you would have the light that leads to life! Amen. You promised to protect me from the evil In the face of adversity, & you rescued me. So I humbly submit to you with a thankful heart. Thank you for reminding me that your Love & blessings don’t come with conditions and as the flames dance upon 33 candles, I find myself immersed in the profound reflections of a journey shaped by growth and artistic evolution. Embracing the present, I stand at the threshold of the unknown, ready to inscribe new chapters in the book of life. Here's to the intricate dance of time and the wisdom it unfolds. In Jesus name, Amen🌹🎂🌹 THANK YOU to all my family & friends that came out to celebrate me on such a special day for me. I feel so full ❤️🌹❤️ #33 12.10.90 🌹📸: @insurgovisuals @destinyfulfild @kvnhrtlss @oneshotmia I will be sending out all my special THANK YOU’S to everyone involved with making this beautiful night unforgettable in part 2.🌹

issarae:

🔥🏡 @hauteliving 🔥🏡 By @laurainwonderland Photography @kanyaiwana Styling @therealwourivice Fashion Director @adriennefaurote Videographer @jeanlondondia Hair @felicialeatherwood Makeup @joannasimkin Jewelry & Watches By @bulgari

victoriamonet:

I had the honor of having such a beautiful conversation with two of the most legendary producers of our lifetime at the @grammymuseum about all things JAGUAR II !! I am in awe and so grateful for the opportunity to share words and space with you both @flytetymejam and @dmile85 thank you so much for this incredibly special moment!🤎🥹\n\nPLUS my mommy surprised me and came to the event @themommymonet you’re the best!!!🙌🏾 Styled by @kollincarter in @area @jimmychoo and @alexisbittar jewelry Glam: @mua.alexander Hair: @theassassin 📸: @mr_dadams @rachelle_jl @danameyerson @1sweetlotus thank you so much for all of your work behind the scenes on this!!!🙌🏾 it all truly takes a team and I got the best one ✨✨✨

[bizaar]

Cruel Summer - Part 9

First - Previous - Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history…

word count: 11k

warnings: swearing, descriptions of Chrissy's death, fluff, slight angst, awkward situations/second-hand embarrassment (lmao but honestly some people need it)

A.N.: Part 9 is here baybee! Now that the honeymoon phase is passed we're gonna get some questions answered whether we like it or not -- also? don't ask me why like half of the taglist is refusing to work, I hate technology :|

You hadn’t planned on falling asleep, but the overall stress of the day added to a lack of any kind of proper sleep the night before had lulled you into a false sense of security and sleep’s gravitational pull.

You were out before you’d even realized you were dozing — the press of a hand gently shaking your shoulder jolts you into waking.

It’s dark now, and for half a terrifying moment, you have no idea where you are, pushing up and glancing around the room with your head on a bleary-eyed swivel. There is only the faintest light shining in from elsewhere, casting strange shadows, illuminating the unfamiliar room and all its furnishings in an uneven amber glow.

There is a figure kneeling on the dingy carpet in front of you, but you don’t have time to be scared before his familiar features come into focus and everything comes rushing back to you – the shag rug, the dark green walls, the outdated seventies furniture – Rick’s place on Lover’s Lake.

That’s where you’d found Eddie.

You feel your heart thump in your chest at the realization and use it to anchor yourself to the moment, to him, kneeling in front of you.

You breathe a marked sigh of relief and sink back into the dingy couch cushions as Eddie reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair back from where it has fallen into your face. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says softly.

You reciprocate the greeting, mumbling it as you crush a fist into your eye to wipe the sleep from it.

Somewhere in the very far back of your mind, you’re reeling with how exceedingly gross it is to know that you’d been sleeping on Rick’s couch.

You don’t want to know what kind of disgusting secrets are lurking beneath the cushions where you’re currently sitting, but you’re not even really thinking about it — you’re too busy looking at Eddie, all dark eyes, long lashes, and messy curls that you can’t help but instinctively reach out to smooth down.

His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, and his clothes are dirty and pulled out of shape, but he looks happy, incandescently so, with the same big lazy smile spread across his face that always warms your insides.

He’s a wreck, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, though most importantly, you can’t believe he’s actually here. 

Part of you had been so certain you’d imagined the whole thing – finding him here, wrapping yourself up in his arms, kissing him breathless – how many times have you dreamt some version of this exact scenario over the past eight months? How badly had you wished it would be as easy as that, to simply stumble upon him like he’d just been sitting around all this time, waiting for you to find him?

Of course, you have to remind yourself that it actually hadn’t been “that easy”, not in the slightest, and you have to subtly pinch yourself just to make sure you aren’t still dreaming. 

The location does nothing to help because honestly, Rick’s place? Of all the places in Hawkins — in the world, really, it makes perfect sense he’d be here, considering it’s the last place you would ever think to look, and you feel rather stupid about that.

“What time is it?” you rasp.

“Quarter to seven.” 

His answer leaves you a little more than dumbfounded.

So much for your grab-and-go mission.

“Jesus.” You yawn, body trembling as you stretch your limbs to the furthest point of their reach.

“Yeah, you were dead to the world there for a minute, Sweetheart.” Eddie hums.

You can feel yourself pulling a face, one that Eddie mirrors, pushing his lower lip out in a gentle, pouting mockery of you.

“Hungry?” He asks, patting your knee as he stand, “I made dinner.”

You watch him retreating back to the light in the other room, and quickly come to realize that it is the kitchen. 

There is a little table and several mismatched chairs sitting together just past the doorway, illuminated by a bare, incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling and casting harsh shadows. 

You can’t imagine what could possibly constitute “dinner” under these circumstances, but the pervasive growling of your stomach betrays your wariness of anything prepared in the meth lab that is Rick’s kitchen, so you push up on stiff legs and follow Eddie across the worn shag carpet to the other room, hugging yourself tightly as you go. 

“Is it a good idea to have that light on?” You ask warily, suddenly recalling hearing something about Rick’s most recent arrest, “What if somebody sees?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.” Eddie calls from the other room, you stop short as he pokes his head out to give you a wry look, “Unless you’d rather sit around in the dark?” 

He’s gone again in an instant, leaving you chewing your lower lip. 

You really wouldn't, considering Rick’s house is creepy enough in broad daylight, but you don’t have to tell Eddie that. 

Your sneakers make soft sounds on the stained linoleum as you cross the threshold from carpet to kitchen, where you find Eddie standing at the stove, stirring something sticky in a dented silver pot. 

For half a moment, it’s all you can do but stare at the broad form of his back, the stark familiarity of him, standing there cooking as casually as if the stove were his own. 

You can hardly wrap your head around it, suddenly being here in the same room like nothing ever changed. Strange as it is, it fills you with a calming sense of contentment that is almost enough to make you forget the time you’ve spent without him — then he twists at the waist to look back at you over his shoulder, licking his lips where he’d just tasted whatever it is he’s cooking, and he smiles that same old lopsided grin.

It hits you like a bolt to the chest. 

He’s here… he’s really here.  

You move before your mind can catch up, and whatever it was Eddie was starting to say is cut off with a harsh grunt as your body collides firmly with his. You snake your arms around him and hug him back tightly into your chest and breathe a contented sigh, pressing your cheek into the space between his shoulder blades.

You feel his hand come up to rest over yours instantaneously, and for a moment you both just stand there, holding one another, swaying ever so slightly to your own circadian rhythms. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly after you breathe out another one of those long sighs. 

You would tell him you’re fine, happy even, incandescently so, but there is an inexplicable lump of emotion forming in your throat, rendering you momentarily speechless. 

When you don’t answer right away, he tries to turn to look at you. You press tighter against him because suddenly you’re just about ready to cry. 

“I missed you so much,” your voice is tight and thankfully muffled against layers of denim and leather, but you can feel the gentle rumble of his own contented sigh rolling through Eddie’s body and into yours. 

“Yeah — yeah, I missed you too, Baby… God, you have no idea...” 

You’d expect the reciprocation of the notion to fill you with a happy emotion, like some kind of wonderful relief, but for some reason, it fills you instead with memories of the previous summer’s grief, and it makes the knot in your throat swell painfully.

All that pain and misery and he’s just been sitting around missing you too? It doesn’t make you feel any kind of happy emotion, in fact, it makes you feel terrible. 

A heavy silence fills the room, bringing with it a tangible weight. He feels it as sure as you do. 

“Hey, come on — what’s the matter?” Eddie asks, and you can’t help but get stuck on the harsh breath you’d been trying to steady yourself with.

“Nothing,” you lie, propping your chin up on his shoulder, “…it’s just — what happened to us, Eds? Why’d you shut me out like that?”

You feel him tense ever so slightly beneath your touch, and very quickly he turns his attention back to the stovetop. 

“Nothing happened…” he mumbles.

“Then why’d we break up?” You press, jerking him back and jostling him like you intend to try and shake it out of him. 

He sighs, slow and shaky like he’s been anticipating you asking him that question — dreading it. 

“I don’t know…” Eddie shakes his head, causing his shaggy curls to dance across his shoulders and tickle your nose where you’re leaning on him, “It was just a lot of change really fast and I couldn’t get out of my head over it. I guess I freaked out.”

Your mind rejects the answer and you bristle against the growing tension you can feel bleeding into the room — suddenly and infuriatingly, you can’t get Steve’s maddeningly condescending tone out of your head. 

Oh, you freaked out? Is that what we’re calling it?

“Nothing changed.” You huff. 

“You graduated,” Eddie insists, turning his head to look at you – you glower at him over his shoulder but he continues before you can object, “I didn’t … and suddenly everything was so different, I got scared that things were never gonna be like they were … just you ‘n me, you know?”.

“No, I don’t know…” you press, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eddie, what was different?”

“You were.” He says flatly, like he hates to admit it.

It hits you like a slap to the face and you can’t help but recoil from it ever so slightly. 

“Me?” You choke. 

“I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but it was like all of the sudden I wasn’t important to you, and … fuck, I don’t know… it hurt my feelings.” 

The feeling is mutual, and suddenly you feel a heady defiance rising up to replace the knot in your throat.

“That’s stupid.” You mutter sullenly, petulantly even, because how could Eddie ever be anything but important to you? He should know that, but the sentiment strikes a chord in him.

“Is it?” He bites, “The way you kept blowing me off to hang out with your old friends…what was I supposed to think?”

He says it like it’s a dirty word, and you can’t even manage to get your feelings hurt over it, because, despite the venom in his tone (which you don’t appreciate) he’s right — you knew he wasn’t graduating, and you knew he was upset about it, even if he never said so. 

You suppose if you really wanted to be obtuse, you could make the argument that he never brought it up because Eddie has always been a chronically bad communicator of his feelings, so how could you have possibly known anything was wrong?

But then again, you always know when something is wrong, and you chose not to ask him about it in favor of wrapping yourself up in the preparations for your own graduation – not out of some malicious selfishness so much as careless oversight – and the subject went entirely ignored as a result. 

You would tell him that you’d only been hanging out with your old friends because he was acting so weirdly distant and ignoring you, but you can’t muster the fight.

In an instant, all the defiance goes out of you, replaced this time by a sickly sense of understanding.

All this time you’d been stuck feeling sorry for yourself over how Eddie had pulled away from you, shut you out, you realize much too late that from his perspective it must have seemed like you’d done it first. 

It makes your chest hurt to think how self-centered you’d been – maybe your initial instinct about the breakup had been right, maybe it was all your fault.

Eddie clears his throat then and makes a soft, defeated sound that shoots you full of holes.

“I dunno… I guess I figured you were finally getting sick of me or something…” He sniffs.

“What do you mean finally? …Eddie—”

He is quick to continue before you can finish, giving a lopsided shrug that he uses to mask the way he wipes his cheek on his shoulder.

“No big deal,” He says unevenly, clearly struggling to mask the tremble in his voice. “Bound to happen eventually.” 

Oh, Eddie… your poor sweet boy… 

You hug him a little tighter.

“No, it’s not,” you insist, “… I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” 

He hums out his answer, a gentle laugh that has his smile faltering ever so slightly.

You press a kiss to his neck and nuzzle him there. Eddie leans into your touch and chuckles. 

“…I wish you would have said something.” You sigh.

“Yeah, well, you know me, I’m stupid.”

Then you grit your teeth and poke him hard in the ribs.   

“No, you’re not,” you growl. 

Eddie flinches against the jab and laughs out loud, and you don’t even manage to feel bad about it because as much as you know he hates to be tickled, he knows how much you hate it when he self-deprecates like that.

“Take it back, Munson.” 

“Okay, okay, I take it back — go sit down, will you? The food’s gonna get cold.”

You don’t immediately release him though, as the thought of staying like this and holding him a little longer is suddenly much more appealing than food. 

When you linger too long, Eddie says your name firmly, in a way that you suppose is meant to be a warning, if not without a good dose of humor. 

You heave a moody sigh and relent, releasing him and retreating to the little dining table – though not so little as the one back at the trailer. You sink into one of the rickety folding chairs, tucking your hands between your thighs, and pulling your shoulders up to your ears as you watch Eddie put the finishing touches on your meal with a dramatic flourish that sends salt scattering to every corner of the kitchen.

“What did you make?” You ask. 

You hadn’t been able to see into the pot over the slope of his shoulder and now curiosity gnawing at you. He turns and triumphantly reveals the slimy contents of the pot and you feel your stomach clench.   

Spaghetti-o’s. 

You don’t know why you expected anything different considering Eddie’s culinary skills are expressly limited to: microwaving leftovers, boiling water for top ramen, and throwing a can of condensed bullshit into a pot. 

Still, you wrinkle your nose and make a harsh sound of disgust in the back of your throat.

“Oh, don’t give me that. Beggars can’t be choosers,” He chides you, “You wanna eat or not?”

You eye him warily, biting your cheek and hating yourself for even considering it. 

Sure, Eddie’s going to eat it too, but he is like a raccoon. He’s lived so long off of processed foods and junk that his stomach lining has since turned to steel, so he can eat most anything and not bat an eye. Your stomach, however, is not so strong, and it is cramping with memories of a particularly intense bout of Spaghetti-o-induced food poisoning – still, you haven’t eaten all day…

Eddie tips the pot and shakes it at you in a way you imagine is meant to be tantalizing, and in spite of your better judgment, you nod sullenly. 

He rewards you for it by filling your plate with a wet smack of sticky o’s, sauce, and freeze-dried meatballs. 

Fantastic. 

Eddie falls into the seat across from you and sets the pot down onto the woven trivet sitting on the placemat in front of him – you’re surprised that Rick has even got amenities like trivets floating around in his kitchen, or placemats for that matter. 

You watch as Eddie immediately tucks in with the wooden serving spoon which, you can’t help but note, is almost too large for his mouth, stuffing his face like it’s his last meal. 

Your attention does not go unnoticed.

“What?” He barely manages to get the word out through the mouth full of processed pasta he’s got, his face smeared in a Glaswegian smile of sticky red sauce.

“You’re not even gonna use a plate?” 

Eddie levels you with a blank stare as he chews, like he’s really got to think it over. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he swallows, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and extends it to you across the table.

“Hi, I’m Eddie, nice to meet you.” 

You smack his hand away and roll your eyes — eight short months, and somehow you’ve forgotten just who it is you’re talking to? You’re a fool. 

Eddie breathes an airy laugh through his nose and you can’t help but try and suppress your own smile at the bizarreness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, eating Spaghetti-o’s in Rick Lipton’s kitchen like you haven’t got a care in the world. 

Once again, you are struck with how it’s like nothing has changed, sitting across from Eddie and sharing a meal like this. It’s familiar in the most comforting way, despite the circumstances.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine you were back at the trailer, sitting together at the littler-than-this-one dining table after a long day, unable to decide if you were more disgusted or amused by the painfully audible smacking and slurping of Eddie’s eating habits.

He finishes the pot in record time, then furrows his brow and gestures to your untouched plate.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks, tongue darting out to lick the excess sauce from where it is smeared across his face.

You shake your head, deciding in an instant that you can stand to sustain your hunger a little longer.

“You can have it.”

“You sure?” though he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he drags the dish back towards himself.   

You give him a pointed look, to which he shrugs and sets himself to the task of inhaling his second helping. 

You avert your gaze and turn a wandering eye on the dingy little room, taking in Rick’s knickknacks, what few of them he has.

It’s sparse and messy and makes you miss the comfort of the trailer’s clutter, all of Wayne’s mugs and hats and keepsakes… the treasured Garfield mug that you had won the highest honor of being allowed to use, much to Eddie’s complete and total outrage (he is not allowed to do much more than look at that mug because of his tendency towards dropping anything and everything that passes through his hands.) 

You wonder with a quiet despair how much of the clutter is still there and how much will be impounded as evidence. 

Then suddenly, much to your despair, you can’t stop picturing the trailer the last way you’d seen it, cordoned off with police tape, harboring the ruined, twisted body of Chrissy.

You feel your stomach heave and have to resist the urge to press the heels of your palms into your eyes until you see stars like you’re half afraid they’re going to fall out of your head – like Chrissy’s had. 

You can’t stop your brain from going around and around in a desperate attempt to fill in the blank as to what could have possibly happened to her. 

You know you’re never going to be able to stop yourself from thinking about it, and it’s going to drive you insane. As much as you hate to bring it up, you have to know what happened to Chrissy…

You watch Eddie carefully, fully entrenched in the task of filling his stomach and blissfully unaware of how you are about to ruin his evening.

“Eds…” You start slowly, chewing nervously at your thumbnail, “Can I ask you a question?”

He hums absently in response but doesn’t look up, still too busy shoveling Spaghetti-o’s into his mouth, one spoonful after another. 

You hesitate, and the prolonged silence is enough to finally make Eddie glance up at you through the thrush of his dark lashes. He’s licking his lips again, looking so painfully boyish as you watch the shadow of anxiety creep in to shroud his features.   

You bite the inside of your cheek and watch him watching you, fruitlessly wracking your brain for the most diplomatic way to ask.

Only there is no easy way to ask about something like this, so you just ask.

“...What happened to Chrissy?” 

He flinches and instantly breathes out a harsh, shaky breath, almost as if you’d socked him in the stomach with the question.  

Eddie drops the spoon into the dish with a muffled clang and pushes back in his chair like he’s suddenly lost his appetite, and for a very long moment, he is a sphinx, completely and utterly unreadable. 

It makes your insides squirm with unease as you watch him fidget. The tip of his pink tongue darts out to sweep across his lips as he averts his gaze, he twists the clunky silver ring on his middle finger and clears his throat. 

It’s nearer to half a minute before he finally answers, though only after being prompted a second time.

“Eddie…?” 

“She didn’t – it wasn’t – I don’t know,” Eddie quickly shakes his head and starts picking at a flakey piece of laminate, curling up from the tabletop. “I don’t know what happened to her.”

You feel something sink inside of you to be so summarily dismissed.

“Okay…” You say carefully, suddenly afraid you’ll say the wrong thing and cause him to shut down completely – you hate to do it, but you have to know, “Well… can I ask what she was doing at your place?”

His head snaps to attention and you watch color bleed into his cheeks in a hot flush, almost like you’ve just accused him of something untoward – or maybe more like you’ve just caught him – you banish the thought before it can finish forming. 

He sits gawking at you, wide-eyed like he cannot possibly imagine how you could know that Chrissy had died in the middle of his living room. You try to smile, almost apologetically, but you only manage to press your mouth into a tight horizontal slit.

“It’s the first place I went looking for you…” You explain, offering him a lopsided shrug, “I…Christ – I saw her, Eds.” 

“You saw her?”

You nod, chewing your lower lip and hating how it feels like an admission of guilt, like you’d been intruding on something that you were not meant to see – which is to say a literal crime scene – but you hate even more the way it forces Eddie to move to defend himself. 

“I didn’t do that to her.” He says immediately.

You barely let him finish before you’re leaning across the table and shaking your head, desperate to assure him that you don’t assume that for a second

“I know,” You say immediately, “Believe me, I know … but –” He’s watching you warily now, like he doesn’t trust you and it makes your insides twist in on themselves, you have to take a deep, steadying breath before you can continue. “… Eds, I just need to know what happened. I need you to help me understand.”

Eddie hesitates a moment before scrubbing at his face with his hand. He slumps back in his seat and swears harshly under his breath, then lingers in a long silence like he’s trying to decide what to say.

You, in turn, sit and wait with what you tell yourself is an infinite well of patience and not a bundle of nerves perched on the literal edge of your seat.  

“She just…” He starts before stopping again. “Nothing happened, okay? Between me and ... and Chrissy?” He insists, leveling you with an edgy look and turning his hands over on the tabletop like he means to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “I need you to understand that before we go any further..."

You feel your heart begin to palpitate. It wasn’t what you’d meant in asking him what had happened, but it doesn’t shock you any less.

"Okay..." You say slowly, unevenly, suddenly unable to stop hearing Gareth's words about whatever Eddie did with Chrissy...

It seems to put him at ease, at least a little bit, and you're not entirely sure what that means.

"She only came over to buy..." He says firmly, "I swear."

You can't help but choke a little on that tidbit of information.

“Chrissy?”

Eddie nods.

It takes all your willpower to suppress the hard scoff of bitter laughter bubbling up in your throat because you can hardly imagine soft-spoken, sweet, angelic Chrissy so much as speaking to Eddie without bursting into flames or something, let alone soliciting drugs from him. 

“Chrissy Cunningham wanted to buy drugs... from you?” Your tone is much harsher than you’d intended, but there is nothing you can do to suppress the biting edge of cold jealousy creeping in on you. 

It’s stupid to be jealous of a dead girl, you remind yourself, but you can’t help it. 

Eddie nods again, slower this time, and you can’t decide how you are supposed to react to this information, considering the recessed part of your brain that has been subtly attempting to drive you crazy wondering what they were doing together last night. 

He’s not even technically your boyfriend anymore… so why does it feel like he just told you he’d cheated on you?

You don’t know how you feel, so you tell yourself you’re relieved, because at least now you know she wasn’t there to fuck him, which, in the grand scheme of things, would have somehow been more believable than the concept of Chrissy soliciting drugs from Eddie. 

Still, you can feel your face flushing bright and hot with stress as your mind turns the argument over and over, asking yourself did he? All the while simultaneously assuring yourself that he didn’t—wouldn’t. Would he? 

You grit your teeth against the conflicting voices as a louder thought shoulders its way to the front of your mind – one tiny little detail screaming at you to tell you it doesn’t make sense.

“… So… why couldn’t you just sell to her out of the back of your van like you do with everybody else? Why’d she have to come over?” 

Eddie fidgets with his fingers and shrugs, and you feel your stomach tighten as you realize he’s actively avoiding looking at you. 

“She wanted pills because she said she couldn’t sleep – nightmares or something, I don’t know.”

You’re suddenly — unhelpfully — reminded of a conversation you’d had with a particularly snotty ex-friend one afternoon at lunch in your tenth-grade year, back when the extent of your interactions with Eddie was strictly limited to stealing shy glances at one another across the lunch room. 

“Oh gross, are you swapping eyes with the Freak?” She’d scoffed when she twisted around to see who it was holding your rapt attention. 

You’d quickly muttered an excuse about just being friendly and fixed your gaze on your lunch, blushing under the heat of your friend’s calculated gaze — and then she’d leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to you. 

“You know I heard he’ll trade weed for head,” and you’d nearly choked when she continued. “I’ll bet if you let him fuck you in the back of his van he’ll give us some blow,”

You’d gone on to learn that Eddie did not, in fact, sell cocaine — just weed and pills, he’d assured you — and you never asked him whether the rumors were true about trading his stock for sexual favors. In the grand scheme of things you didn’t care if they were, but now you can’t stop thinking about what Jeff had told you about the last he’d seen of Eddie — headed out to his van with Chrissy… 

You can’t get out of your head over it. 

“…So you brought her home?”

His eyes widen in alarm as you can only assume he has finally come to realize how this all sounds. 

“No — it wasn’t like that, I swear — Sweetheart, come on, you know I don’t carry pills around – you know that.”

You do know that. Very well in fact — still, you have to bite the inside of your lip to keep from asking the terrible question your psyche keeps poking you with: did you fuck her? Or perhaps rather, were you planning to fuck her? 

Stop it stop it stop it stop–

“…So she came over, but I couldn’t find my stash – the place is always a fuckin mess, I mean… you know how it is –”

You wish he would stop telling you what you know and cut to the chase. You make yourself nod because Eddie is giving you this strange, sidelong look that you can’t decipher, and you want him to know you’re listening, despite the way your brain is busy tearing itself in half. 

“...And I wasn’t even gone a minute, but when I came back she was just standing there, like – like she was hypnotized or possessed or something.”

You can feel a cold dread creeping in on your chest, like icy fingers closing around your heart as your dream comes rushing back to you. 

“And I was shaking her, trying to get her to come back, but she wouldn’t wake up… she just wouldn’t wake up… and then the lights started going on and off. Flickering like… like it was a goddamn horror movie or something… and then she –”

Eddie’s voice hitches and goes tight as you watch the color drain from his face and his eyes glaze over like he’s reliving the moment — you’re doing your best to keep yourself from reliving it too – the ubiquitous cracking of bones snapping up out of place, eyes being wrenched back into their sockets. 

You fail to suppress a shudder, but thankfully Eddie is too far off in his own head to notice.

His hands are shaking where they’re still turned up against the cracked and stained tabletop, his rings clinking ever so softly against each other.

Absently, you reach across the table to steady them, if only as a force of habit.

In spite of your fears and what your mind is telling you he did or didn’t do, you remind yourself that whatever happened was traumatic enough to send him running for his life, and whatever happened, he deserves the chance to explain himself.

This is about Chrissy and how she ended up like that, not whether she slept with your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend— before it happened. 

“One minute she was fine and then she wasn’t moving and I tried to get her to come back but – I swear to God, you’re gonna think I’m crazy – she started fucking floating…” 

It makes you feel sick, and you still can’t pinpoint exactly why – maybe because some irrational part of your brain had been holding out on a hope that it had only been a terrible dream, that maybe you were experiencing a weird but brief bout of insanity that was bound to pass, that none of this was real. 

“…Floating,” you hum, your frustration with the situation causing you to inadvertently sound skeptical of the whole thing.

You watch in horror as Eddie’s face contorts with disappointment.

“...Oh, Christ… you don’t believe me, do you?”

You try to suppress the spike of anxiety it sends lancing through your midsection – shit, fuck – because this was exactly what you had been worried about. 

“Hey, no, that's not what I –” You start, attempting to try and backpedal, but Eddie is already shaking his head, like he cannot believe what he’s hearing, like somehow you’ve betrayed him.

“Jesus – you think I’m making this up?” He asks, his voice lilting with despair. “Why would I lie about something like this?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“What, you think I cheated on you and now I’m lying to cover my own ass?” Saying it out loud only serves to convince him that it’s exactly what you think, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

All the jealousy and paranoia goes out of you as your heart beats erratically with the need to fix this before it goes too far.

“Eddie, please, just listen–” You press, but he cuts you off.

“No, stop it— don’t do that —I know how crazy this sounds, okay? I get it, but that’s what happened and nobody is going to fucking believe me because it’s so goddamn crazy!” He cries, fisting his hands in his hair and hanging his head. 

You could kick yourself for how spectacularly you’d fucked this up, but you’re afraid to say anything to try and smooth it over for fear of only making it worse, so you sit and hold your breath and wait for Eddie to react first. 

You listen to him breathe, a harsh in and out punctuated by flushed, simmering emotion threatening to boil over. 

It’s a long time before Eddie comes down again enough to come out from where he is hiding behind his hands. His face is flushed and he sniffles, wiping the back of his hand across his nose before he makes himself take a deep, steadying breath. 

“Why are we even talking about this?” He huffs. “Seriously, what have I ever done to make you think I could cheat on you?”

You fidget anxiously in your seat, trying to decide how to explain yourself, and decide in the last moment to shift the blame a little – it’s not untrue, after all.

You give an uneven shrug. 

“Jeff told me he saw you getting in the van with Chrissy and I guess I let myself go a little crazy over it …”

He makes a harsh sound and rolls his eyes. 

“Fucking, Jeff — you know he was probably just trying to make you jealous, right?”

“Yeah… guess it worked…” You mutter, trying and failing to hum out a humorless laugh. “It was stupid… sorry.”

Eddie just shakes his head. His voice is thick and he barely manages to keep it from trembling as he speaks.  

“Baby, I promise, I’m telling you the truth,” He insists, “Chrissy came over to buy pills. That’s it. Okay? I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t fuck her — she didn’t even sit down, Man. Nothing. Happened.”

Only something did happen last night, and Eddie knows that as well as you do. He rolls his eyes and moves like he’s going to cover his face again before stopping himself, “Jesus — nothing except…” He trails off. 

He can’t say it, but he doesn’t have to. Nothing happened except that she died. 

You set your jaw and try again to smile, deciding in an instant that it’s enough and that you can set aside any jealousy or suspicion or any of those other ugly feelings – you can be angry about it after this is all over if you still need to, but for now, you’re on Team Eddie, no matter what.

“Okay,” You say simply, “I believe you.”

Eddie gives you a flat look and tucks his arms that much tighter over his chest. You watch his jaw flex as he considers it. 

“What, so it’s just that easy?” he scoffs.

You shrug.

“It can be.”

He shakes his head and sucks his teeth like he doesn’t believe that for a moment and averts his eyes again, electing to turn away and stare off at a point in space rather than look at you.

You don’t know how any of this became your fault — except that you’re a goddamn moron continuing your string of making the worst decisions possible — but if blaming you is what makes Eddie feel better, you’ll shoulder it.  

You sit together then in a tense silence as you try to wrap your head around this whole thing.

It doesn’t make any sense, hypnotic trances and floating up off of the ground, but then again how could something like that happen to a person? More importantly, it’s just like Eddie said, why would he lie about something like that?

He wouldn’t.

Eddie’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. You know that for certain, which means this is real, whatever the fuck this is, and you’re both in way over your heads. 

At least you can share in that dilemma together, that is if he’ll still have you after this titanic fuck up. 

Under the table, you push forward to nudge his shin with the toe of your sneaker, offering an apologetic smile when his inky gaze slides over to you. 

“...So, she started floating,” You prompt, “What happened next?”

Eddie heaves a sigh and uncrosses his arms, almost like he’s forgiven you for your perceived lapse of faith. Almost. 

“She started floating…” he gives you a pointed look, like he’s daring you to question it a second time, “...and then —”

He trails off, and for half a second he clenches his jaw as his eyes are wet and shining with tears again, but he swallows the emotion and lets his lids slide shut as he grits his teeth and forces the words out.

“And then that was it." He says, "Then she was gone…”

You know he’d spared you the gruesome details, which your psyche is more than happy to deliver to your inner eye.  

You believe him — not so much that part about Chrissy wanting ketamine— but you have this terrible sinking feeling that it’s not going to be enough, and no one else is going to, no matter what you do.

Even if somehow you miraculously come up with bulletproof evidence, a literal smoking gun, you know it’s still just going to be Eddie’s fault because he’s a Munson and that means the town will have already decided his guilt— that’s why you need to go, get as far away as fast as possible.  

“Okay… obviously that’s a lot to take in, but thank you for being honest… it was really brave of you.”

He snorts bitterly. 

“Not that it’s gonna do any good – I mean, even without my name dragging me down, who in their right mind is gonna believe any of that?”

The complete and utter defeat in his voice is heartbreaking, and you’re suddenly so desperate to snap Eddie out of this pathetic version of himself, this exposed nerve of a person.

You purse your lips and shake your head.

“I wish you would stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself,” You mutter, glancing up to see if Eddie takes the bait of your tough love.

He does, sitting up to blink incredulously at you – you just shrug.

“It’s like I said, we’re gonna figure this out.”

“How?” He sniffs. 

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “But we will.” 

After a very long moment, nods in a way that makes you think he doesn’t expressly believe that, but there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“…Okay…okay…” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. 

It takes another one of those long, shaky breaths to steady himself enough before Eddie sits up and viciously scrubs his hands over his face. 

He sniffs and clears his throat, and offers you a weak smile, and you feel your insides warm a little. 

“So what now?” he asks.

“Now… we get you as far away from here as fast as we can… don’t ask me how, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Well, whatever we do it’s gonna have to be in your car because the van’s gone.” He huffs, gesturing vaguely, “Crashed it in a ditch out near the quarry.”

“You– you crashed?”

“Yeah, it’s totaled. I don’t really wanna talk about it.” He mumbles.

You know you shouldn’t laugh, but you can’t stop yourself from snorting undaintily, and you have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep your cool.  

“Eddie…” You press. 

He gives you an incredulous look, brows furrowing over his eyes as he stares back at you because you’re laughing at him. He just told you he crashed his van in a ditch and you’re literally shaking with the effort to keep yourself from laughing – it’s a losing battle. 

“It’s not funny,” He presses, despite the way you can see him fighting the upturn of his lips. 

It only spurs you on and you grin at him. 

“It’s a little funny.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a brat,” He huffs, still fighting to keep himself from smiling as you sit there fully entrenched in a fit of giggles, “I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.”  

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m laughing…” you gasp, breathless from the way your stomach muscles have begun to cramp, “It’s just … God – it’s been a really long day.”

“Really? That's a bummer because my day’s been great.” Eddie says sarcastically, propping his chin up on his fist and drawing aimless circles into the cracked and flaky linoleum. “I mean, clearly you know how fucked my day has been – but anyway, I’m sick of talking about me. How was your day, Dear?”

He folds his hands neatly in front of him when he says it and smirks at you.

You roll your eyes.

“Well, I almost got arrested this morning – it’s a long story, I was looking for you.” you huff when Eddie’s eyebrows jump up to disappear beneath his curly fringe.

Then you remember your little Toyota sitting abandoned in Benny’s parking lot.

“Oh, shit, and my goddamn car died.”

“Shit indeed. That leaves us pretty much stranded.” 

You heave an aggravated groan and wrestle with a strange hope that nobody decides to tow it, despite how useless it is to waste any energy on that kind of thinking, because once you get out you’re never coming back – now you just have to get there.  

“Hey, come on, Sweetheart, take a dose of your own medicine, we’re gonna figure it out, remember?” Eddie teases, gently kicking the toe of your shoe beneath the table. “So, what’s plan B?” 

Good question. You chew the inside of your mouth and wrack your brain for solutions.    

“Well…” You start, “Wayne gave me some money—”

It’s enough to snap Eddie out of whatever is left of his pity party and he perks up to the closest thing you’ve seen to his normal self yet.

“You saw Wayne?” he asks, voice lilting up with surprise.  

You nod. 

“Yeah, this morning,”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you. 

“Before or after you almost got arrested?” 

You can feel yourself pulling a face again as the memory of how foolish you’d been to go barging into a crime scene like that returns to you in full force. 

“After,” you mumble sheepishly, “He kind of, sort of bailed me out.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Eddie hums, deflating a little as he begins to fidget with his rings again – you suppress the urge to reach across and take his hand to make him stop – one of these days he’s gonna break his finger, twisting it like that. “… is he pissed at me?”

You feel your brows come together over your eyes, and you realize a moment too late that you’re more or less glaring at Eddie, but you can’t really help it. 

You can’t imagine why he would even ask you that, how could he ever imagine that Wayne would walk in on what he’d found waiting for him at the trailer that morning and immediately jump to anger?

Fear, sure, for the scene he’d stumbled upon, for the lack of ability to find Eddie afterward and all the hideous possibilities his absence implied, of course, but anger?

You realize with a start that it’s probably how Eddie’s father would have reacted, had he been in Wayne’s shoes.

You don’t know much about the man, there’s a reason Eddie won’t talk about his childhood after all, but you know he is a son of a bitch, wherever he is, and you have to swallow the misplaced anger that realization stirs in you. 

“No, Eddie, Wayne’s not pissed at you. He’s the one who sent me to come find you.” you press, and when he continues staring back at you like a freshly kicked puppy, you dig your hands into your pockets and fish out the crumpled bills.

“Look,” you say, laying them flat on the table between you, “He gave me this and told me to get you out of town… he made me promise I wouldn’t leave you… not that I would anyway … even if you are a jerk.”

In spite of everything, it pulls a short burst of laughter out of Eddie, which leaves the faintest hint of a genuine smile spread across his face.

It’s so good to see him smiling again.

“Aw, man,” he breathes, chuckling softly to himself, “So, I guess you kind of like me, huh?”

You scrunch your nose and feign disinterest as your insides go warm and fuzzy when Eddie looks at you in shades of the same way he’d stolen those shy glances at you from across the lunch room all those years ago. 

You love him so much you can’t stand it, so you shrug.

“You’re alright, I guess.”

Eddie hums thoughtfully, still fidgeting with his fingers.

“That must’ve been weird.” He begins, “Seeing Wayne?”

The question strikes you as odd, and you answer honestly without really thinking.

“Not really,” you say, “I see him all the time.”

Of course, it’s only then that you remember that there is no possible way Eddie could know that, and you feel a strange sense of alarm jump up into your throat when he pulls a face, like you’d let slip a secret you’d sworn never to reveal — only you’re the one who had made Wayne promise not to bring Eddie up in any way shape or form including but not limited to not telling him about your weekly visits.  

He doesn’t get the chance to ask you about it before there is a sudden and violent banging at the front door. 

It sends the pair of you leaping out of your skin. 

Eddie hits the floor as the doorknob begins to rattle, and you jump up out of your seat with enough force to send the chair clattering backward to the ground.

You jump up, much too late, and pull the chair for the overhead light, instantly plunging the both of you into darkness. It draws the attention of the newcomers instantly. 

You hear Eddie say your name frantically from somewhere in the dark and you feel your heart leap up into your throat.

“Go hide!” You hiss but you can’t see well enough to tell whether or not he obeys.

Suddenly, the knocking and rattling are punctuated by voices, most specifically a high drawn-out shouting.

“HELLOOOOO – REEFER RICK! ARE YOU THERE–?”

It takes you a long, terrifying moment to recognize the voice, but when you do you are flooded with relief. 

It’s only Dustin – thank God for that – and he’s not alone.

“Dude… what the hell, don’t just shout that.” Steve hisses. “Have a little discretion, will you?” 

You heave a sigh, clapping your hand to your forehead as you rock back on your heels. The tips of your fingers and toes sting with adrenaline as you rush to the door and whip it open, flooding the room with what little light there is from their flashlights and startling the group of familiar faces just outside.

You’d all but forgotten they were coming, but just like that you suddenly have a Plan B. 

+++

Dustin knows he should be happy considering how miraculously everything fell together.

They found you, and you found Eddie, just like he knew you would.

He knows he should be pleased, but that feeling is hampered by the very small part of him that had begun to hope beyond hope that they would not find the two of you together, that maybe they wouldn’t find Eddie at all and he’d never have to think about the two of you making out in a photo booth in the Starcourt mall ever again. 

And he's unfortunately been thinking about that all day. It's really kind of ruining things for him.

But now here you all are, together, just like he’s wanted all year, and Dustin feels like he’s going to crack a tooth for how tightly he’s clenching his jaw.

You’d whipped the door open and damn near given everyone heart attacks in doing so, hurried them all inside to the weird, dated house that stank of weed and burnt spaghetti, and then promptly realized as you switched the kitchen light back on that Eddie was nowhere to be found.

It set Steve off immediately, much to Dustin’s chagrin. He’d really hoped you two had moved past the bickering, but he was quickly coming to understand that it was probably a fool’s hope.

“Seriously?” Steve snapped, watching you turn in fruitless circles around the house, looking for Eddie, “You had one job here and you lost him?”

“Eddie? Okay, game’s over, you can come out now!” You called, doing a very poor job at hiding the rising anxiety in your voice by calling out in a lilting, sing-song way, “Olly olly oxen free!”

“Steve, come on.” Robin chided quietly, as you slipped into the other room, “Give her a break,” 

“You come on, don’t you think it’s just a little bit ridiculous?” Steve huffed, running a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, “What kind of babysitter loses the goddamn kid?”

You took the opportunity to come back into the room then, if only to defend your reputation.

“He’s not a kid, okay? He’s a grown-ass person. And I didn’t lose him, thank you very much, I told him to hide when you morons came banging down the door like you were trying to wake the dead.”

“First of all, that moron you’re talking about is all Henderson—”

Dustin did not appreciate the sentiment, but he didn’t have time to stand around complaining about it, so he cut Steve off before he could get really catty about the whole thing.

“Did you guys set up a designated hiding spot or something?” He asked. 

You shook your head, resting your hands on your hips and frowning and you gestured to the room.

“No, but this isn’t a big house. There are only a handful of places he could be.”

That’s what they’d said about Hawkins proper, and it had still taken them hours to stumble upon this lead, but Dustin wasn’t about to start naysaying his own operation, so the party split up and went looking for Eddie — you, Max, and Robin stuck to the house while Steve and Dustin slipped out into the boathouse and promptly found Eddie hiding under a tarp.

Steve nearly lost his head for it.

Dustin froze and stood helpless as Eddie jumped up and slammed Steve against the wall with more force than he would have guessed the metalhead could muster, and thankfully the commotion brought everyone running. 

And then you’d all but tackled Eddie to the ground to pull him off of Steve, which Dustin couldn’t deny was kind of amazing, despite the very tense few moments it took to talk Eddie down after.

The next few minutes were an exercise in patience.

They needed to know Eddie’s side of the story, clearly, so they waited as he explained what happened as best he could. 

Dustin did his best to remain impartial, because regardless of whatever he was currently feeling, Eddie deserved the chance to explain himself. Still, it was very distracting, watching you watch Eddie — looking at him like he was the only person in the goddamn room, and Dustin couldn’t help but get a little bent out of shape over it. 

If anything, it was rude, ignoring everyone else in favor of one person? Certainly very uncharacteristic of you, who always went out of your way to make sure everyone felt included.

This was much more like that weird dopey version of you that existed under the spell of your stupid boyfriend – Dustin had to quickly remind himself to merge the two images, because there was said stupid boyfriend, sitting on the floor of the boathouse, looking like a kicked puppy. Eddie freakin Munson.  

God, he hates this so much. 

And then it was his turn to explain things, which Dustin quite possible hated more than any of it because suddenly he was having to lay it all out there, everything he never told you about the double life he’d been keeping from you over the past few years, about Eleven and the Upsidedown.

You didn’t take it well, because how does anyone take the news that there is another world just beneath your feet full of monsters who periodically violently claw their way up into yours? That everything you think you know about what has happened in your town over the past few years is a conspiracy to keep that world hidden? 

No, you don't take it well at all, particularly when it leads to a bizarrely frank discussion about what they thought could be behind this — some kind of spell caster, Dustin and Eddie collectively decide, Vecna.

You make a harsh sound of disbelief, snapping everyone’s attention to where you stand with your arms crossed and your brows furrowed. 

“I’m sorry, Vecna?” you say, “Like in your stupid D&D game?” 

It hits Dustin like a fist to the gut and suddenly he feels too winded to defend himself, despite the way he tries.

You never thought D&D was stupid before, but he supposes it’s never been anything but a game until now. 

“It’s not stupid—” He insists.

“It’s also not real, Dustin,” You snap, “Something seriously fucked up is happening here and we need to figure out how to deal with it before something arguably worse happens.”

God, you’re mean today.

It’s Steve’s turn to make a snide noise then. 

“Worse than what happened to Chrissy?” He huffs.

Eddie flinches and you bristle, immediately reeling on him. 

“Steve— do not fucking start. I swear to God, you’re only making things worse.”

And just like that you’re back to fighting, the same way you had been in Family Video.

It’s exhausting putting the two of you together, honestly, Dustin doesn’t know how he ever thought you could be friends.

“How the hell am I making things worse?” Steve chokes, “Your boyfriend’s the one who came at me with a bottle.”

Dustin feels his insides heave and go tight at the mention of it, though not as violently as they do as you proceed to perhaps the worst thing anyone can possibly say at a moment like this. 

“He’s not–” you bite the sentence off in an instant, like you only just realized what it is you’re about to say, and more importantly, who you’re about to say it in front of. 

Of course, everyone knows what it is you were about to say.

Strangely, it makes Dustin’s heart seize, because for as jealous he is, he is suddenly very aware of the way Eddie’s head snaps to attention. His brows come together over his eyes in that same hurt look that always makes Dustin feel like he needs to protect him. 

The room grows eerily silent, and you clamp your mouth shut, eyes wide and cheeks burning as you stand stock still.

“Not what?” Steve prods, and Dustin could wring his neck for it. 

For all his good qualities, the worst thing about Steve is how he just can’t leave things where they lie.

“Hello?" he says, making a show of waving his hand in front of your face, "Who’s not what?”

Dustin knows you might have slugged him had you not been so caught up in your dreadful misstep. 

“Nothing, nevermind,” you say, shaking your head dismissively.  

“No, go ahead and say it,” Eddie says then, a little quieter but with no less bite than Steve had – he’s standing behind you, ever so slightly removed from the rest of the group and looking a little too rough around the edges for Dustin’s liking.

You blanch and whip around to face him, shifting your weight from foot to foot as he stares you down, and Dustin resists the urge to put himself between you.

He honestly doesn’t think he could move if his life depended on it, 

“She’s talking about me,” Eddie informs the group, as if everyone didn't already know, then addresses Steve, “– that’s what you said, right? That I came at you? So it’s me…” 

Finally, Eddie turns his gaze back to you and it’s the worst thing Dustin has ever seen, watching someone who knows they’re about to have their heart broken prepare for the worst. It’s like watching a car wreck, terrible and ugly and frightening but you can’t look away. 

Suddenly he doesn’t know who is the bad guy here, who he needs to step in to defend. 

“Eddie, it’s not–” you start, your voice is small and clipped, and you barely manage to squeak the sound out.

He shakes his head slowly, like he doesn’t want to hear whatever excuse you might be drumming up. 

“I’m not what?” Eddie prompts you again. 

“...You’re… you’re not – fuck – you’re not my … my boyfriend.” You stammer, glancing nervously around the room, down to your toes, and then sheepishly back up at Eddie, “You’re not my boyfriend, Eds…”  

Then tension is unbearable, like you finally saying it had sucked all the air out of the room. Even Steve seems to be feeling particularly shitty about this whole exchange.   

Dustin exchanges a tense look with Robin, who looks like she's trying with all her might to shrink into her jacket and disappear.

Somewhere further into the room he hears Max mutter something to the tune of “Yikes”, and he can’t disagree with her.   

For a long moment, nobody says anything, and the silence is a yawning chasm ringing in Dustin’s ears. 

Eddie breathes out hard and rocks back a step, almost as if you'd reached out and stabbed him.

He grits his teeth and pulls a face like he’s trying to smile, and nods.

“...Yeah,” he says, “That’s what I thought you were gonna say,”

“Eddie—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He snaps in a way that makes Dustin bristle.

You recoil ever so slightly, and he watches a strange, hurt look flash across your face as Eddie turns and stalks to the other side of the room. 

You follow and Dustin’s insides go tight – how did that go so wrong so fast?

He moves like he means to follow you but Robin grabs him by his sleeve and quietly ushers him and the rest of the group back toward the house.

He follows, but he can’t stop looking back over his shoulder, trying to catch one last glimpse of you and Eddie standing huddled in the back of the boat house before the door closes behind him. 

After it's shut, everyone proceeds to stand in a stunned silence, all seeming to share the sentiment that what they just witnessed was painful enough to make them all feel like they’d just been broken up with. Dustin feels like he could vomit. 

“Well, that was excruciating,” Steve mutters. 

Max scoffs from where she’s sunk down onto the couch.

“Only because you didn’t have to listen to them break up the first time,” she says flatly. “By the way, what just happened in there? Totally your fault.”

Steve recoils sharply like she’d socked him in the face and opens his mouth to protest – nothing comes out. He looks to Robin for assistance, but she shuts him down in an instant with a slow shake of her head. 

“Take the credit for that one, Stevie.” She says, “You’ve graduated to wrecking other people’s love lives as well as your own.”

The sentiment seems to hit him hard, as suddenly Steve is sinking down into a particularly ratty-looking armchair and staring off at nothing in particular with the faintest hint of distress masking his features. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m a menace,” he says, a little more than stunned by the information that has suddenly come to light.

Dustin stands watching the door, wondering whether he ought to intrude, play mediator.

That’s what you do when your friends are fighting, right? Mediate, make them come to some sort of agreement, and shake on it? Only it’s not Mike and Lucas fighting in there, and Dustin is suddenly way in over his head. 

Part of his rational mind is telling him that it’s none of his business, he ought to just let the pair of you work out whatever is going on between you, but the rest of him is too muddled with the conundrum of everything he has learned today. 

Eddie broke your heart last summer, so that makes him the enemy, but Dustin is pretty sure he just stood there and watched you break his right back, which is good in terms of the mission to avenge you, but terrible considering Eddie is the object of his current mission – to find him and protect him at all costs, and he just stood there and let you trample him into oblivion. 

Some avenger he is.  

It’s a goddamn mess and Dustin is damn near ready to tear himself apart over it. He knows it’s not his business, but curiosity gets the better of him and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s got his ear pressed to the door. 

He thinks he can hear you saying something, and he certainly hears Eddie raise his voice. Everyone hears it, in fact, and it brings their attention to where Dustin is pressed against the solid core. 

“Dustin – what are you doing?” Steve calls, sounding suddenly very dejected. 

Dustin dismisses him with a wave, but Steve’s admonishment of him is very quickly backed up by Robin. 

“Leave them alone.” she insists. 

Dustin shushes them harshly, he can’t make out what you’re saying, but you’re clearly arguing.

“I’m just trying to make sure they don’t need me to step in!” He hisses, missing the sound of approaching footsteps. 

The door whips open and Dustin staggers forward, very nearly falling flat on his face at your feet. 

You sidestep him without so much as a second glance and storm through the house to disappear down the long hall off of the living room.  

Dustin watches as you go, helpless to do anything but stand there as his insides twist themselves into knots, and then Eddie appears in the doorway, stumbling over his own feet in his attempt to follow and looking exceedingly chagrined as he calls your name. 

Somewhere further into the house, a door slams, rattling the walls and the clutter tacked to them. 

Dustin feels a strange and bitter sense of schadenfreude wash over him as he watches Eddie flinch against the sound and slump back. 

He swears harshly under his breath and pushes his hair out of his eyes. 

“Good job.” Dustin says flatly and prides himself in the way he withstands the dirty look Eddie gives him. “Are we ready to make a plan now? Or do you two want to fight some more.” 

Behind him, Dustin hears the dull rumble of a chorus of disappointed sounds from the rest of the group, but they all get up and file back into the boat house to give you a little space while they discuss the next course of action.

The strange hostility that jumps up in Dustin’s midsection is a bizarre contradiction to the strong pull of friendship he feels toward Eddie, but every time he starts to come back down, he thinks back to the polaroid photo strip he’s still got crumpled in his pocket, and the fire revs up again.  

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, plans are set in motion. Eddie is safe, for the moment — even if he is a stupid jerk — which means Dustin can relax a little.

Now if only he could stop his mind from spinning around in circles wondering just what the hell Eddie must have said to you to make you storm off like that. 

Dustin can’t help but notice the way Eddie keeps glancing at the door every few seconds, like a helpless puppy just waiting for you to come back.

He has to resist the urge to tell him to give it up because you’re not coming back – he really hopes you’ll wise up this time and not come back — but at the same time he is gripped with the urge to sidle up to him, assure him things are gonna work themselves out. 

The conflicting notions are going to drive him crazy.

Dustin snaps his fingers for Eddie’s attention.

“Hey, you wanna do us the courtesy of paying attention while we’re trying to save your life?” he snaps.

Eddie blinks stupidly at him, brows furrowed like he can’t believe his audacity, but Dustin doesn’t wait around to hear what he has to say about it. 

It’s well past midnight by the time the plan is finalized, and you still haven’t emerged from the room you’d shut yourself into.

It had been decided that they’ll go back into town and run their own reconnaissance mission, Eddie will stay put with a walkie-talkie, and everyone will remain in regular contact until they can get a handle on whatever the hell is going on. Now Dustin just has to figure out where you stand with all of that.  

He finds you in the back bedroom, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed. It reminds him of the way you used to sit on the floor in his bedroom playing Atari – Dustin wishes you were back there, in happier times before you had to worry about things like stupid boyfriends and monsters and interdimensional spell-casters. 

“Hey,” he calls from the doorway, startling you to attention. 

You sit up a little and offer him a meager smile, though he can tell you’ve been crying what he imagines were angry tears. Your cheeks are streaked with them.

“Hey yourself.” You sniff, quickly brushing any lingering wetness from your face and wiping your nose across the back of your hand. 

Dustin wonders briefly if you’d let him hug you – he contemplates joining you on the floor, but he can hear Steve in the other room rallying the troops.

“We’re headed out, in case you wanna hitch a ride.” Dustin says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. 

You sit silently for a moment, staring through him rather than at him, then sniff and dismiss the notion with a flippant wave. 

“Nah, I’ll stay.” You say.

It makes his stomach clench. He’d so hoped you would come with them, even if he knows it's better that someone stays to keep tabs on Eddie.

Why does it have to be you? A tiny, nagging voice is crying out from somewhere inside him, though he knows the answer well enough. He’s got photographic proof crumpled up in his pocket. 

“Really? Even after…?” Dustin trails off, unsure of how to really describe what he’d just witnessed as anything but a lover’s quarrel, which he is violently opposed to.

You wrinkle your nose and shrug, smiling for what he thinks must be his benefit. It doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“Yeah…” You mutter, “Somebody’s gotta stay and babysit him. Figure it ought to be me.”

Dustin can hear Steve calling his name from the front room – wheels up, let’s go –  and he hesitates, before venturing to take a step toward you. 

You watch him carefully as he does. 

“You don’t have to, you know.” Dustin assures you, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

You force out a quiet chuckle, and the corners of your mouth twitch as your smile begins to fail.

“Of course he will, I’m gonna make sure of it.” You say. 

Steve is honking the horn now, and shouting Dustin’s name, which is completely counterintuitive to everything they just went over about keeping a low profile. 

Christ, he could strangle him. 

“You better go,” you say, gesturing through him toward the car, “Daddy’s callin’.” 

It’s not you saying it though, just like all those other times you said something that was wholly uncharacteristic of you, and entirely your boyfriend.

Eddie, Dustin reminds himself. It’s Eddie.

Just a little too mean for no good reason at all. Somehow it’s a little less jarring to hear, now. 

He’d always wondered how someone could rub off of another person like that, how you could pick up their little phrases, begin to talk like them, but he supposes Eddie is Eddie – his favorite person in the world besides you, of course, he doesn’t know how you could know him and not have him rub off on you, just a little. 

Dustin takes the walkie-talkie from where it is strapped across his shoulders and hands it to you. You take it and turn the clunky device over in your hands, still smiling that hollow smile as you fidget with the dials.

“We’ll be back tomorrow, but in the meantime—”

You don’t let him finish.

“Yessir, call you if we need anything.” You say, making a show of saluting. “Channel two, right?”

“R-right.” he says. 

That’s the frequency he and the party always used before Will moved away, and Dustin is more than a little touched that you would remember.

Of course, then he can hear you chiding him gently, because how could you ever forget? You were a party member, weren’t you? 

“DUSTIN!” Steve shouts from the front yard, “WE ARE LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU.” 

And then he hears Eddie calling from the front room.

“Henderson, will you get the fuck out of here before he blows a gasket? Jesus Christ!”  

Dustin looks back to see you staring out toward the front room again, frowning, and he feels a sudden desperation pulling at him.

The party doesn’t split up – you should be going with them.

“… You’re sure you don’t wanna come with?” He asks sheepishly, suddenly feeling like that same eight-year-old kid who was so desperate to impress you the first time you babysat.

You roll your eyes and push up to your feet, taking him by the shoulder and leading him to the door.

“Bye Dustin.” You say and shut the door firmly behind him.

Dustin lingers a moment, breathes a deep, steadying breath, then jogs down the hall into the living room.

Eddie is sitting slumped on the couch fidgeting with his fingers – he glances up at Dustin when he feels him staring. 

“I gave her the walkie.” 

“Cool.” Eddie says flatly, and then when Dustin continues to stare at him, “What?” 

“...Be nice to her, okay?” 

Eddie levels him with a dour look and Dustin half expects him to make some kind of snide comment, but he thinks better of it and breathes out a heavy sigh. 

“Okay,” He mutters, sounding more or less defeated.

Dustin turns to leave, then stops short. 

“Are you guys gonna be okay–?” 

He doesn’t let him finish. 

“Bye Dustin,” Eddie says, in a strangely perfect mimicry of you that sets Dustin’s teeth on edge.

It's one thing to hear Eddie speaking through you, but you speaking through Eddie?

Christ, that's just weird...

And then the roar of the engine indicating that Steve is actually trying to leave him behind lights a fire under Dustin's ass.

He whips around and bolts out the door to catch Steve's Mercedes just as it's pulling out of the driveway.

Dustin slides into the back beside Max and barely manages to get his door closed before Steve hits the gas again, ignoring the way he chides him for making everybody wait, and doing his best to suppress just how goddamn stressed he is that things are about to take a turn for the worse. 

taglist: @harrys-tittie , @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @thicksexxualtensionaltension , @ganseysgff , @scoopsr0bininn , @pbs-theundeadmaggot , @audhd-dragonautagonaut , @clilxlxx , @alexandriaemily200 , @averagestudent03 , @but-vanessa , @cosmictime45 , @timelordfreya , @forever-war , @munsonzzgf , @chervbs , @irisabrams , @mopeymopeymouse

[novaraptorus]

Jesus Number 5!

# APPALACHIAN HEAVENLY ELDRITCH LAMB OF REVELATIONS

LORD OF HEAVEN, SPAWN OF THE TREE OF LIFE, CHIMERIC HYBRID OF LION AND LAMB, DESTINED SLAYER OF THE BEAST AND BEACON OF UNBLEMISHED PURITY!

GAZE UPON HIS HOLY VISAGE, HIS COUNTLESS ALL SEEING EYES AND A CROWN OF HORNS, LET US GAIN THE FAVOUR OF THE LAMB VIA OUR RITUAL SLAUGHTER OF EARTHLY OVINE SHEEP IN HIS NAME!

FACING ETERNAL PAIN, HIS SLAUGHTER AT OUR HANDS AGAIN AND AGAIN, LET THE LIGHT OF THE LAMB-LION, OF THE SON OF THE ENTHRONED, OF ALPHA-OMEGA, SHINE DOWN UPON THE RIGHTEOUS BELIEVERS!

PEACE IS SIN! Since the battles against the Dagon worshippers and Canaanites all the way to our present struggle against the dead-speakers of New Orleans, it is clear that the faithful are mandated to spread our dominion over those who seek to advance the causes of HELL. To ignore the cause of Right and Holy is to endorse the cause of the BEAST. In a struggle between ultimate authority, eternal salvation, against complete subversion, eternal damnation, there cannot be a sideline. There cannot be neutrality or inaction. PEACE IS SIN!

To prove your faith in the Lamb, there must be a trial, an adversary, a conquest. This is the truth of handling serpents, and this is the truth of WAR! Faith cannot be something that you state listlessly, with the strength of a sheltered and sickly Papist or the confidence of an anxious Rust Cultist, (paralyzed, no doubt, by his Old-World Blues!) faith must be asserted with bravery, violence and resolve!

… ahem, uh… mhm.

[hiswordsarekisses]

To disregard, or ignore God’s Word in any way, is to disregard, or ignore God Himself. He wants to speak to us through His Word - we should listen.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made, and without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. The true Light who gives light to every man was coming into the world. He was in the world, and though the world was made through Him, the world did not recognize Him. He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. But to all who did receive Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God— children born not of blood, nor of the desire or will of man, but born of God. The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory, the glory of the one and only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. From His fullness we have all received grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is Himself God and is at the Father’s side, has made Him known.” (from John‬ ‭chapter one)

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for Saturday, April 27, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 15:6-7(KJV): 6 In the house of the righteous is much treasure: but in the revenues of the wicked is trouble. 7 The lips of the wise disperse knowledge: but the heart of the foolish doeth not so. Proverbs 15:6-7(Amp): 6 In the house of the (uncompromisingly) righteous is great (priceless) treasure, but with the income of the wicked is trouble and vexation. 7 The lips of the wise disperse knowledge (sifting it as chaff from the grain); not so the mind of the self-confident and foolish.

Thought for the Day

Verse 6 - The income of the wicked comes with trouble, while the righteous have "much treasure." Some people have a hard time believing this is true because they know righteous Christians who are struggling with finances. To understand the meaning of this verse, we must first understand what the Bible means by "treasures" and "true riches."

Money cannot buy health or save someone's life. The Bible says that we are to seek God's true riches, not this world's riches. His riches are things that money cannot buy. How can money deliver a wayward teenager from drugs and sin? How can money buy peace in our souls in the face of fear all around us? How can money save a soul from hell? Only God's riches are available to do these things. We are truly rich when we have faith in God.

Certainly, God does want to bless us with material things, but it will be Him that we are seeking when these things come, not the things themselves. Many today are seeking God for what He can do for them, instead of asking God how they can serve Him. We cannot seek mammon and God at the same time.

"If you have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, who will commit to your trust in the true riches? And if ye have not been faithful in that which is another man's, who shall give you that which is your own? No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other, or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon" (Luke 16:11-13).

"Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matthew 6:19-21).

"Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye need all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you" (Matthew 6:31-33).

Verse 7 – The lips of the wise share godly knowledge, claiming the promises of God. However, claiming only material things is foolish. Many today are heard claiming cars and houses but seldom heard claiming souls. Our priorities should be right when claiming and confessing. The Lord's greatest desire is for us to grow in Him and to bring others to the knowledge of His love. He will take care of our needs if we seek Him first.

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Father, we come to You in Jesus' most precious name, thanking You for Your love for us. Lord, You see the areas in our lives that are not in balance in the area of material things. We ask that You reveal those to us and help us to walk in the path of righteousness and Your holy balance in these areas. Deliver us from any lust for the things of this world, and give us a vision of the rewards that await us in the world to come when we do Your will. Let us not worry about finances, but rather cast all of our cares upon You, for You care for us. Heal us today spirit, soul, and body so that we might serve You by walking in a victorious Christian life. Let our lights shine so that truly others might see Your love in us. In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen. From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ,  gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups, Saturday, April 27, 2024, Jacksonville, Florida., USA.  X ... @ParkermillerQ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981 GROUP: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA

[cassianus]

The Light of the just and joy of the upright is Christ Jesus our Lord.

Begotten of the Father, he manifested himself to us.

He came to rescue us from darkness and to fill us with the radiance of his light.

Day is dawning upon us; the power of darkness is fading away, From the true Light there arises for us the Light which illumines our darkened eyes.

His glory shines upon the world and enlightens the very depths of the abyss.

Death is annihilated, night has vanished, and the gates of Sheol are broken.

Creatures lying in darkness from ancient times are clothed in light.

The dead arise from the dust and sing because they have a Savior.

He brings salvation and grants us life.

He ascends to his Father on high.

He will return in glorious splendor and shed his light on those gazing upon him.

Our King comes in majestic glory.

Let us light our lamps and go forth to meet him.

Let us find our joy in him, for he has found joy in us.

He will indeed rejoice us with his marvelous light.

Let us glorify the majesty of the Son and give thanks to

the almighty Father, who

in an outpouring of love, sent him to us, to fill us with hope and salvation.

When he manifests himself, the saints awaiting him in

weariness and sorrow,

will go forth to meet him with lighted lamps.

The angels and guardians of heaven will rejoice in the glory of the just and upright people of earth;

together, crowned with victory, they will sing hymns and psalms.

Stand up then and be ready!

Give thanks to our King and Savior, who will come in great glory to gladden us with his marvelous light in his kingdom.

[albertfinch]

REVEALING THE LIGHT OF ETERNITY     

When Jesus went up the mountain with three of His disciples, he was transfigured or altered from His human state to a glorified one (Matthew 17:1-9). It was a fearful moment of splendor as the Son of Man revealed His heavenly identity and manifested His glory in human form.

HIS BRILLIANCE WOULD BE EXPOSED AGAIN

Jesus declares to His disciples "Tell the vision to no one until the Son of Man is risen from the dead." (Matthew 17:2). This was indicating that there would be a time that this manifest presence of Jesus, in all its blinding brilliance, would be revealed and exposed to the world.

"His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light..." Matthew 17:9. The word "shone" is a derivative from the Greek word "Lampos" or "to shine with brilliance." The color of His clothing was "white as the light" which is "Leukos," the word for "white light" or "fire." Jesus had become a brilliant, radiant white flame that caused the disciples to collapse to the ground in terror. This was a prophetic keyhole into the future which would be accessible to all after His resurrection.

"WHITE LIGHT" REVEALED AGAIN AT THE EMPTY GRAVE

In Matthew 28 we see this brilliant glory revealed again where the Body of Jesus had been laid. We see again the same "white-Leukos" or brilliant light that is white like snow and bright as lightning. The angel appears in the same glory that Jesus revealed on the Mount of Transfiguration.

The awesome presence and power revealed to the world in all of His stunning glory on the mountain, then later at the empty grave, is for a much larger, dynamic purpose. These manifestations were not just showcasing His stunning brilliance, but rather it was to confirm His resurrection and life to the world--past, present, and future.

"WHITE LIGHT" AND "FIRE" NOW DEFINE THE REALITY OF THE CHURCH

This becomes even more clear as we hear the description of the harvest as Jesus exhorts His apostles: "Do you not say, 'There are still four months and then comes the harvest'? Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look on the fields, for they are already 'white' for harvest!" (John 4:35). The same Greek word used at the Mount of Transfiguration to describe His glory and the same vivid language at the empty grave of a resurrected Jesus now defines the living reality of the Church -- Leukos: brilliant with light and fire!

We see now that the engine of the Gospel message that drives it into the world--is His presence and glory -- an illuminating light that leads the world to Jesus and becomes the pillar of fire that leads His Church in revelation concerning advancing His Kingdom in the earth. through the Christ calling of born-again Believers. 

"You are the Light of the World" (Matthew 5:14).

"To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory..." (Colossians 1:27).

A CALL TO ADVANCE GOD'S KINGDOM IN THE EARTH

Our job description now is to reveal the LIGHT OF ETERNITY in a dark world void of it

In Luke 10:2, HARVEST is literally mentioned three times, "Then He said to them, 'The HARVEST truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore, pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest." The word "LABORER" can be interpreted in the ancient text as "toiler or TEACHER."  New Believers need to be TAUGHT (discipled) into an understanding of their Christ identity.

Affirmations:

I AM LIGHT TO THE WORLD AND AM HERE TO TRANSFIGURE AND TRANSFORM  IT.

I AM A CITY SET UPON A HILL THAT CANNOT BE HID.

I AM THE TRANSFIGURING LIGHT OF HIS PRESENCE AND AM THE ONLY HOPE OF THE WORLD TO SEE IT.

ALBERT FINCH MINISTRY

[uchihashisuii]

to listen, to suffer. (to entrust unto tomorrow)

Summary: "Have you slept?" Joshua asks, voice hushed as to not break the facade of peace that permeates the air. Because of course he begins with that; Phoenix is ever the healer, the caregiver, the protector. Concerned only for the well-being of those around him and not a whit for his own ills or pains. | Spoilers abound!

Pairing: Dion Lesage/Joshua Rosfield

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1994

Content warning for introspection, romance, character study, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, and a first kiss long overdue

Author’s Note: rises from the ashes HEH with some brand new nonsense. you ever see two characters you Know are gonna be your faves and you're like. oh i'm gonna make them kiss. and then you discover there's actual substance for aforementioned faves and why they should kiss??? yeah as close to rapture as i'm ever gonna get i wanna thank not only god but jesus for all the joshua and dion content

also the summary lied to you its actually the morning but listen. listen. sunrise is more romantic than sunset fight me on that. plus using eve just sounded better

title is from answers from ffxiv cause i have a disease

Ao3 link

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With eyes turned eastward, Dion watches the darkened haze that drapes the world, a startling reflection of that which envelops his heart. Hours, days, weeks; time passes, but even years hence the results of his patricide and his ensuing loss of control will continue to dog his heels, to haunt his every thought.

The clawing shadows of agony swirl around him, enshrouding him; a burden he refuses to allow a moment's respite. For to refuse it, to ignore it - would be as forgetting what he had done. The blood of his father, his people, his home. Red-drenched gauntlets and the wind beneath Bahamut's wings buffeted by the anguished cries of those he swore to protect. Dion resolved himself to ridding Sanbreque of its poison, and instead took that which made her complete. Shining citadels and grand streets could be rebuilt - but one cannot hope to restore the laughter and strength of a people, the love of a father; on Dion's heart will the guilt ever weigh down.

He refuses to dwell on that which he has lost. No, his mind turns only to what he has taken. A home, a people, an emperor. Grieving stars shine through the haze, pinpricks of light weeping for what has been done. There is nothing he could do, no apology or deed grand enough to encapsulate the void of his sorrow, of his remorse.

Dion is not naive nor self-absorbed enough to think throwing himself unto his lance would absolve him, would pay the impossible due of his transgressions. He darent even hope for the opportunity. The unthinkable deeds have been done, and never once would he think himself worthy of forgiveness. There are none left in the ruins of his home even left to offer it. All that remains is the steadfast hope, the will to bring a better tomorrow, reflected in the haunted eyes of Phoenix and Ifrit. And it will cost his life -he hopes, he prays it does- but still he will take to the skies as Bahamut once more, grief punctuating every beat of his wings, as he bears on his back the hope for a future he does not deserve to see.

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Joshua finds him still deep in contemplation in the early hours, before the first rays of dawn could break across the horizon. There is a chill dancing about the air, breath fanning forward in pale wisps as they stand in comfortable silence, content to simply gaze out upon the world gone so utterly, ruinously wrong.

He tries not to dwell on it. Where heartbreak threatens to split him in twain, he remembers there is hope. In those surrounding him, in those that look to Ifrit and those whose hands may shape a brighter future. Maybe, even, some hope for him; just a little.

"Have you slept?" Joshua asks, voice hushed as to not break the facade of peace that permeates the air. Because of course he begins with that; Phoenix is ever the healer, the caregiver, the protector. Concerned only for the well-being of those around him and not a whit for his own ills or pains. 

He cares too much for one so young, Dion remembers thinking when they met as children. This small boy, this Dominant of Fire, who kneeled in the dirt and coughed from the dust dispersed. Only stopping long enough to look annoyed about it, before using his abilities as Phoenix to heal the broken wing of a bird. 

Who heals the healer? he thinks now. Certainly nobody he would even allow, insisting others be placed before himself. Dion believes, wholeheartedly, that he'd have made a fine Duke, were things - different. A man he would have been proud to stand beside, uniting their lands and ushering in an era of peace.

He'd left whimsical dreams behind long ago, the only thoughts left remaining were ones of how to ensure Sanbreque's victory and the survival of his people. But something about Joshua -his earnestness, his optimism, his very presence- makes Dion want to believe. Makes him think he's worthy of it.

"A scant couple of hours," is all Dion says in reply once he pulls himself from spiraling thoughts, unable to lie to one so gentle. Gazing out over the calm waters surrounding Ifrit's hideaway in staunch refusal to meet eyes too kind to be cast in his direction. To stare too long would prove his undoing, in more ways than he is comfortable putting a name to. Still, Joshua moves in his periphery, until the press of a bony elbow brushes into his forearm. When he glances a look, just as he expected, Dion cannot look away.

He's beautiful, in the calm of morning. No expectations, no fuss or hassle. The wind tussling his mussed hair, pale eyes bright with something warm. He belongs here, Dion thinks somewhat softly to himself. With the gossamer glow of sunrise bathing him in light, throwing his delicate angles into sharp relief. Impossibly long lashes of burnished gold brushing against the tops of his cheeks, mouth curving up into a secret smile that has Dion turning his attention swiftly elsewhere.

It is a struggle, sometimes, to see Joshua. Unlearning habits take time, but Dion works at it even amidst the fire and flame. His entire life Dion has been defined by simple measures; he is a Dominant, he is crown prince, he is dragoon commander. He is Bahamut, and not simply Dion. A symbol of light, a means to protect the empire. Faceless. A beacon. Simple.

Joshua is not simple. And yet he is; he's merely a man, holding fast to his convictions and his heart. A man with a sweet smile and gentle hands, who loves as fierce as any wildfire. A kind man, who paradoxically keeps any and all at arm's length in the hope that weakness and vulnerability are kept carefully hidden beneath those carefree smiles.

It comes full circle as all at once the taste in his mouth is reminiscent of the ash that blanketed Sanbreque. Dion is no longer any of these things, and those childhood fantasies of finding someone who saw through the gilded silver veneer of an imperial Dominant to unfurl the man trapped beneath - perhaps now, at the end of all things, there is the chance to simply be. Be understood, be - Dion.

Simple, he thinks with a bitter quirk of his mouth, just as I wanted.

"It's a lovely morning," Joshua remarks at his side, leaning just so until he can brush his shoulder against Dion's. Expertly wielding word and action to pull Dion from distraction; his frown shifts into something softer, something worthy of a serene early morning at the side of someone precious. 

When he turns to respond, it is to the sight of Joshua looking to him and not the view. Something clenches just beneath his ribs, and it is only in the quietude of an unassuming morning that Dion feels the world around him fall away, locking gaze with a still-smiling Phoenix.

Dion was never quite able to see himself in Joshua; too starkly different in method if not desire. But perhaps they're more similar than he first surmised, evidenced in the way the younger man studies him awash in the glow of sunrise, in the understanding clear as glass in those lovely eyes. The pressure that comes part and parcel in being fundamentally nothing more than a tool for your people, be it as weapon or shield. The trauma of a lost home, lost family. The guilt of bearing responsibility for so much loss, so much death and destruction. Dion finds himself reflected in those eyes, that have seen and wrought as much pain as he has. But even still, so too is there love, and acceptance, and maybe even peace.

"Lovely indeed," Dion whispers, eyes still locked on Joshua's and soft words nearly lost to the wind.

There are no further words, but none are quite needed. A grin, beautiful with closed eyes and full of teeth and tender joy, breaks across Joshua's face like the dawn. He laughs, very nearly shyly, and brings a hand to cover his mouth. As though he were embarrassed of his mirth, as though he wished to hide from Dion's searching expression. 

It is not a morning for hiding, nor is it one for things left unsaid. Dion doesn't expect to see the next rising of the sun, and shrugs off the idea of his own indulgence. The world and his life have gone to hell, yet the rise of a new day is stunning to behold. Paling very nearly to the pink that dusts Joshua's cheeks, to the way nerves and delight seem to wash from him in near-tangible waves. 

He's beautiful enough to break hearts, Dion thinks. In face and in soul both, in equal measure. His heart must feel much as he does right now; warmth from the gentle light of the sun, filtering through clouds to bathe them, for a moment, in something greater.

Dion feels nearly as shocked as Joshua looks when, not a heartbeat later, his gloved hand moves to curve over Joshua's elbow. The thrum of awareness carries between them, and yet again the world has gone quiet. Breath held, a moment in limbo; anticipation gathers heady around them. Dion cannot move further, cannot make his mouth work to tell Joshua above everything else I see you, I hear you. As you see me, as you hear me.

The linger does not last, Dion jolted from his yet once more spiraling thoughts to find Joshua cupping his cheek. Hand bare, his skin softer than silk. Thumb rubbing small circles beneath Dion's eye, lips parted and something familiarly unspoken dancing on the tip of his tongue. He runs warm, Dion realizes. Some quirk of Phoenix's power, perhaps; or maybe there is some merit to the rumors that all those from Rosalith have fire in their blood. Or perhaps, he thinks, when Joshua leans forward to close what distance lingers between them; perhaps it is simply Joshua. Sunlight manifest. 

The press of his mouth to Dion's feels startling natural. Much like in all other aspects Joshua is reserved, but not timid, when he kisses. Testing the waters, searching for an answer in Dion's reverent silence. And silent he remains; breath stopped short, a gentle gasp stolen with the rush of his pulse. Loud in his own ears, Dion hesitates for barely half a moment before he allows himself to simply feel.

Eyes slipping shut, Dion moves until he grips tight, certain, to Joshua's slim waist. Pulling him close with desperate, grasping fingertips until they are pressed tight enough they threaten to fold together into one. It's heady, made more intoxicant by the way he can feel more than hear the soft moan from Joshua, heat and desire making Dion's head spin. He breaks the kiss, basking and breathing, before pressing another, and another, to Joshua's pliant and waiting mouth. 

He doesn't question, doesn't hesitate. Fate and the future are ever fickle, and whether he deserves even a moment's respite in a question he refuses to entertain at present. Instead Dion savors it, when he grips tight to the hair at Joshua's nape just to hear that sweet sound once more. Perhaps there is nothing that awaits him this day save further agony, perhaps only a quiet death is all he deserves. But for now he has Joshua in his arms, against his mouth. Swallowing down Dion's every small sound, holding tight and refusing to let go. He is no longer shy, no longer gentle; Joshua licks into his mouth and every slick glide of their tongues has Dion falling just that little bit further.

The sun finishes its ascent, blinding even to Dion's closed eyes. The warmth that surrounds him, that resides within him, echoes and builds with every harried pulse of his desperate heart, resonating like the beat of a firebird's wings.

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

10th March >> Fr. Martin's Homilies / Reflections on Today's Mass Readings (Inc. John 3:14-21) for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B: ‘The light has come into the world’.

Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B

Gospel (Except USA) John 3:14-21 God sent his Son so that through him the world might be saved.

Jesus said to Nicodemus:

‘The Son of Man must be lifted up as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him. Yes, God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life. For God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved. No one who believes in him will be condemned; but whoever refuses to believe is condemned already, because he has refused to believe in the name of God’s only Son. On these grounds is sentence pronounced: that though the light has come into the world men have shown they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil. And indeed, everybody who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed; but the man who lives by the truth comes out into the light, so that it may be plainly seen that what he does is done in God.’

Gospel (USA) John 3:14–21 God sent his Son so that the world might be saved through him.

Jesus said to Nicodemus: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the verdict, that the light came into the world, but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.

Homilies (6)

(i) Fourth Sunday of Lent

All of the great religions have a symbol that identifies it. The symbol of Judaism is the six pointed Star of David. The symbol of Islam is the crescent moon and star. The symbol of Hinduism is made up of three letters A, U and M. The symbol of Christianity is the cross. The cross speaks of crucifixion, a terrible form of death that the Roman Empire reserved for slaves and those considered a threat to public order. It is how Jesus was put to death.

When we look upon Jesus crucified, we can see what human beings are capable of doing to one another; we confront the sin that put Jesus on the cross. Jesus lifted up on the cross exposes the evil tendencies that resides in all of our hearts. Yet, when we as Christians look upon the cross, we see more than just the darkness of human nature. We also see the brightness of God’s nature. We see the love of God shining through the crucified Jesus. In the gospel reading, Jesus speaks of himself as the Son of Man who must be lifted up. Jesus had to be lifted up on the cross; it was the price he had to pay for remaining faithful to his mission of revealing God’s love for the world. As Jesus says elsewhere in this gospel of John, ‘No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’. Jesus’ death on the cross revealed his greater love for us, a love that was faithful to us, even when it meant his death. The love that shone through Jesus as he hung from the cross was the love of God. On the cross Jesus was showing the world that God is love. In the words of today’s gospel reading, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. Jesus’ whole life, and especially his death, was a powerful expression of God’s love for the world and for each one of us personally. Saint Paul could say, and we can all say, ‘I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me’. Jesus was God’s greatest gift of love to the world and to each one of us personally.

Today’s gospel reading goes on to say that ‘God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world’. There was and is much to condemn in the world. The crucifixion of Jesus, the continued slaughter of the innocents, is a witness to the power of sin in the world. Yet, Jesus did not come among us just to condemn what was wrong in us. God sent his Son into the world to reveal a love that was more powerful than sin or evil, so that we could all be raised up by this love. God sent his Son into the world to release a power of love that would enable us to become the people God desires us to be, what the second reading refers to as ‘God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. If we allow ourselves to be touched by God’s love given to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, we will begin to live fully human lives and we will enter into eternal life.

Saint Paul in the second reading stresses that God’s love present in Jesus is freely given to us. It does not have to be earned; it is not a reward for what we have done. As Paul says, ‘it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith… not by anything you have done’. No matter who we are or what has happened to us in life, God is for us, God’s love is over us to recreate us, to lift us up from our sin, so that we can live loving lives that reflect God’s love for the world. God’s love poured out through his Son is a gift to be received rather than a reward to be earned. Receiving this gift can be a gradual process in our lives. When Jesus went to wash Peter’s feet, Peter said, ‘You shall never wash my feet’. Peter struggled to receive Jesus’ gift of his self-emptying love. There is something of Peter in all of us. Yet, Jesus would not take no for an answer, saying to Peter, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no share with me’. Peter had many flaws; he would soon deny Jesus publicly. Yet, Jesus insisted on washing Peter’s feet.

God’s love for us present in Jesus is unconditional, because God is love. One of the greatest challenges of faith is to allow God to be God, to allow God present in Jesus, our risen Lord, to bring me to experience his love for me in a very personal way. The light of God’s love never ceases to shine, but sometimes, in the words of the gospel reading, we can avoid this light. Our calling is to keep coming into God’s loving light. That will sometimes mean turning from whatever pockets of darkness are to be found in our lives. They need not come between us and the love of God because as Paul says in one of his letters, ‘nothing in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord’.

And/Or

(ii) Fourth Sunday of Lent

A painting hung for many years on the wall of a dinning room in the Jesuit house on Lesson Street. No one paid much attention to it until one day someone with a keen eye spotted it and realized that this could be something of great value. He had it further investigated by art experts, and it turned out that this painting was the work of no less a person than the great Italian artist Caravaggio. The painting of the arrest of Jesus in the garden now hangs in the National Art Gallery, and it is one of the Gallery’s great treasures. All those years it hung in the dining room of Lesson Street it was no less a treasure, but its worth, its value, went unrecognized. It hung there waiting to be discovered, waiting for someone to recognize its true worth, its true value as a work of art.

In the second reading this morning, Paul states that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. Like the painting in Lesson Street, we can go unnoticed as a work of art, especially to ourselves. We don’t tend to think of ourselves as a work of art. Yet, as Paul reminds us in our second reading, God sees us as works of art. Like the person who spotted the painting in Lesson Street, God knows our true worth, our true value. As God said through the prophet Isaiah, ‘You are precious in my sight, and I love you’. We are as works of art to him, of great worth and value, precious in his sight.

We can probably think of people in our own lives that are as works of art to us. These are people we value greatly, people we treasure, whose worth to us is beyond price. Today is Mother’s day, and most of us think of our mothers in that way, whether they are still living or are with the Lord. When someone is a treasure to us, we don’t count the cost in their regard. We will do anything we can for them. We will travel long distances to see them; we will stay up half the night to be with them if they are ill; we will defend and protect them with all our passion when necessary. We keep faith in them; we are faithful to them, even when that makes great demands on us. How we relate to those we value and treasure is not determined so much by how they relate to us. Even if they do something that annoys us, we tend to make all kinds of allowances for them. We say something like, ‘that’s just the way he is, she is’. Their worth in our eyes, their value to us, is rooted in something deeper than what they do or fail to do. We value them, simply, for who they are.

Our experience of how we relate to those we value, and of how people who value us relate to us, gives us a glimpse of how the Lord relates to us. God loves us in a way that does not count the cost. The gospel reading today expresses that truth very simply: ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God sent us his Son out of love for us and that sending became a giving when his Son was put to death on a cross. Here was a love that did not count the cost, a sending that became a giving when that was called for. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘God loved us so much that he was generous with his mercy’. We are of such value in God’s eyes that God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up to benefit us all. It is not surprising that the cross has become the dominant symbol of Christianity. This is not because we glorify suffering in any way, but because we recognise that the cross is a powerful sign of how much God values us, how precious we are in God’s sight, the extent to which God is prepared to go to express love for us.

Our love for those we value is bestowed on them for who they are more than for what they do. The same is true of God’s love for us in Christ. It is pure gift. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘it is not based on anything you have done’. Some of us find it difficult to really believe that. We find ourselves asking, ‘how I done enough?’ Yet, when it comes to someone in our lives whom we know truly loves us, we would rarely ask that question of them. Why should we ask it of God, when even the greatest of human love is only gives us a glimpse of God’s love? God loves us for who we are, people made in his image, and, therefore, works of art.

What is asked of us in relation to God is that we receive God’s love, or in the words of the gospel reading today, that we come into the light. The light of God’s love falls upon us, but we can hide from it. Children fear the darkness very often. But as adults we often fear the light, because we suspect that the light will expose us in some way. Yet, the light of God is not a harsh light, the kind of light that is trained on a suspect in an interrogation room. It is a strong, yet warm, light that brings healing and generates new life. It is an empowering light that enables us to ‘live the good life’, as Paul says in the second reading. We pray that, as the hours of day light increase in these days, the life-giving light of God’s love would renew us and fill us with a desire to serve him.

And/Or

(iii) Fourth Sunday of Lent

Children are often afraid of the dark, as the parents here in the church will know. A dim light is sometimes left on while children sleep, so that if they wake up it is not in pitch darkness. Many of us as adults find total darkness disconcerting too. Those of us who live in cities never really experience total darkness. It is different out in the country away from villages, towns and cities. I remember going on a holiday as a young person to the Arran Islands and being struck by just how dark it was at night. There was very little in the way of artificial light to dispel the darkness. The experience of near total darkness after night fell was disconcerting.

Although most of us would claim to prefer light to darkness, in today’s gospel reading Jesus declares that some people ‘have shown they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil’. Most crime is committed during the hours of darkness. Those who are intent on doing wrong are drawn to darkness because it provides them with cover. As today’s gospel states: ‘Everyone who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed’. One of the many security measures that have become popular in recent years is an array of bright lights that come on at night whenever anyone steps into an area that is out of bounds. Light is considered, with good reason, to be a deterrent to the person who is intent on committing crime. Indeed, there is a sense in which we all fear too much light just as we do too much darkness. Many of us prefer to stay in the background, in the shadows; we don’t like the spotlight being shone on us. We all have secrets that we would wish to remain in darkness, away from the bright lights that human curiosity and inquiry might like to shine on them. There are aspects of our lives that we would prefer to remain in darkness because we are not sure how people might respond to us if a bright light were to be shone on them. We only bring our deepest selves out into the light in the presence of those we really trust.

The gospel of John frequently refers to Jesus as light. On one occasion, Jesus says of himself: ‘I am the light of the world’. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus says with reference to himself: ‘Light has come into the world’. The gospel reading also declares that the light that has come into the world in the person of Jesus is the light of God’s love. In one of the most memorable statements of the New Testament, the gospel reading declares, ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son so that everyone who believes in him… may have eternal life’. The light of Jesus is not the probing light of the grand inquisitor that seeks out failure and transgression with a view to condemnation. Indeed, the gospel reading states that God ‘sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world’. The light of Jesus, rather, is the inviting light of God’s love, calling out to us to come and to allow ourselves to be bathed in this light, and promising those who do so that they will share in God’s own life, both here and now and also beyond death.

At the beginning of today’s gospel reading, Jesus speaks of himself as the Son of Man who must be lifted up. It was on the cross that Jesus was lifted up, and it was above all at that moment that the light of God’s love shone most brightly. It is a paradox that those who attempted to extinguish God’s light shining in Jesus only succeeded in making that light of love shine all the more brightly. God’s gift of his Son to us was not in any way thwarted by the rejection of his Son. God’s giving continued as Jesus was lifted up to die, and God’s giving found further expression when God raised his Son from the dead and gave him to us as risen Lord. Here indeed is a light that darkness cannot overcome, a love that human sin cannot extinguish. This is the core of the gospel. This is why the fourth Sunday of Lent is known as Guadete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday.

When we are going through a difficult experience and darkness seems to envelope us, it can be tempting to think that we will never see the light again. This is the mood that is captured in today’s responsorial psalm: ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept’. Today’s readings assure us that there is a light that shines in the darkness and that the darkness will not overcome, a light that heals and restores, in the words of today’s second reading, a light that brings us to life with Christ and raises us up with him. It shines in a special way whenever we celebrate the Eucharist. As we gather around the table of the word and the table of the Eucharist, the light of God’s love revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus shines upon whatever darkness we may be struggling with in our lives.

And/Or

(iv) Fourth Sunday of Lent

We have become very aware in recent weeks of how much longer the days are getting. We are half way through the month of March and already it is bright up until after six o’clock. We have even brighter days to look forward to, especially as the clock goes forward next weekend. The brighter evenings brings everybody out. With the increase in light, there is also an increase in growth. The first blossoms of spring have already come out. Nature is coming to life after a time of hibernation.

The gospel reading this morning is in keeping with what is happening in nature. It declares that ‘light has come into the world’. The light there is a reference to the light of God that has come into the world through Jesus. Both the second reading and the gospel reading make clear that the light of God is the light of love. The second reading declares that God loved us with so much love that he was generous with his mercy; it speaks of God’s goodness towards us in Christ, the infiniteness richness of God’s grace in Christ. The gospel reading declares that God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son. In the light that Jesus brings from God we find mercy, compassion, great love, kindness, infinite grace. Sometimes we don’t like too much light. There is a certain kind of light that can expose us mercilessly, like the light of the interrogator’s lamp. However, Jesus brings a light that need hold no fear for us; it is a divine light that lifts us up, just as the Son of Man was lifted up, in the words of the gospel reading. Here is a light that assures us of our worth and that helps us to see the goodness that is within us and the good that we are capable of doing. It is a light that, in the words of the second reading, allows us to recognize that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live a good life’. It is the light of a love that shines upon us regardless of what we have done or failed to do. As the first reading reminds us, God’s grace, God’s love, comes to us not on the basis of anything we have done. It is not something we earn by our efforts; it comes to us as a pure gift. When God gave his Son to the world, did not ask whether the world was worthy of his Son or whether the world was ready for his Son. Even when the world crucified God’s Son, God did not take back his Son from the world. Rather, God continued to give his Son to the world, raising him from the dead and sending him back into the world through the Holy Spirit, through the church. Here is a light that shines in the darkness and that the darkness cannot overcome, in the words of the gospel of John.

We all long for that kind of light, a light that is strong and enduring, a light that can be found at the heart of darkness and that is more resilient than darkness. We have all experienced darkness in one shape or form. It may be the darkness of sickness, or of the death of a loved one or the darkness of failure; we may struggle from time to time with the darkness of depression, with those dark demons that tell us that we are worthless and that life is not worth living. Something of that darkness of spirit finds expression in today’s responsorial psalm. It was composed from the darkness of exile in Babylon. ‘By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept, remembering Zion’. We may have known our own experiences of exile in its various forms, times when we felt cut off from what gives meaning and purpose to our lives. The readings this morning assure us that in all those forms of darkness, a light shines - the light of God’s enduring love that is constantly at work in our lives so that we may have life and have it to the full. In the words of the gospel reading again, ‘God gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him... may have eternal life’.

Even though this wonderful light has come into the world and wants to shine upon us all, we can be reluctant to step into that light, and allow it to shine upon us. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘though the light has come into the world, people have shown that they prefer darkness to the light’. This is the mysterious capacity of human freedom to reject the light, to turn away from a faultless love and a boundless mercy. Yet, our coming to the light is often a gradual process; it can happen slowly, at our own pace. The Lord is always prepared to wait on us; he waits for our free response. We are not used to a love that is as generous, as merciful, as rich in grace and goodness as God’s love; it takes us time to receive it, to believe in it, to embrace it. Receiving God’s love and then living out of that gift is the calling and task of a life time.

And/Or

(v) Fourth Sunday of Lent

My father loved fresh air. The bull wall was one of his favourite places. Like many men of his generation, he was a smoker and, sometimes, his breathing became a struggle. He loved to get out in the open where there was a good wind blowing that could fill his lungs. My mother was much less keen on fresh air, especially of the windy variety. It tended to leave her hair in what she considered a mess. After having experienced an abundance of fresh air at my father’s prompting, she was often heard to say, ‘I’m like the wreck of the Hesperus’. As children we were mystified as to what the ‘wreck of the Hesperus’ was. It was only many years later I discovered it was the name of a rather tragic poem about a shipwreck in a storm by the American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, published in 1842. However, as children, we knew that when our mother came out with this expression it meant that she didn’t like the look of herself. In those moments, Saint Paul’s statement at the end of today’s second reading wouldn’t have cut much ice with her, ‘We are God’s work of art’.

Perhaps, we all find it difficult to really believe that we are God’s work of art. We admire the workmanship of great artists, like Michelangelo, Raphael, Caravaggio, and we recognize their creations as works of art. Many of these great artists were people of faith who were very aware that their ability to create works of art was a gift from God. They understood that God was the supreme artist, and they sensed that they were sharing in God’s creative power. Every new born child is God’s work of art, because they are an image and reflection of God, the supreme artist. In that sense, we are each God’s work of art. Just as a work of art can deteriorate over time and need cleaning and restoration, so, as we go through life, we do not always give full expression to our inner identity as God’s work of art. In that second reading, Saint Paul says that ‘we are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. We don’t always live the good life that does justice to God’s work of art that we are.

Yet, what we do or fail to do does not fundamentally undermine who we are as people made in the image and likeness of the great Artist. Indeed, not only have we been created as human beings in the image of God, but that identity has been enhanced through God’s sending of his Son into the world and our communion with God’s Son through baptism and faith. Jesus was the perfect image and likeness of God. He was God’s greatest work of art. The closer we come to Jesus, the more he lives in and through us, the more we will grow into our true identity as God’s image and likeness, God’s work of art. We could imagine Jesus as the great restorer of God’s work of art, humanity. As Saint Paul says in that second reading, ‘when we were dead through our sins, he (God) brought us to life with Christ’. Through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, God recreates us in his image and likeness, restores our identity as his work of art. Having created us out of love, God recreated us, restored us, out of love. That is the core message of today’s readings. The gospel reading declares that ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God’s renewing love embraces the world, all of humanity who have been made in his image and likeness, and, indeed, all of creation. Paul in the second reading states that God’s ‘goodness towards us in Christ Jesus’ shows ‘how infinitely rich he is in grace’. Paul goes on to remind us that God’s loving initiative towards us through his Son is pure gift; it is not a response to anything we have done, as if we had to build up credit with God first.

We are all aware of the good we have failed to do and the wrong we have done. As a result, we can be prone to condemning ourselves, and others can look in judgement upon us. Yet, God is not primarily in the business of condemning. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘God sent his Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but so that through him, the world might be saved’, might have life and have it to the full. The eyes of love always see goodness and beauty in the beloved even though he or she may leave a lot to be desired. Those we love deeply remain works of art to us, even though our shared journey may have had many ups and downs. God’s love for us, revealed in his Son, is infinitely greater than any human love. God continues to see us as his works of art, even though our lives may be tainted by sin. He continually gives us the gift of his Son and of the Holy Spirit so that can grow into that work of art more fully. All God of asks of us is that we keep opening our hearts to that gift of his Son, that we keep coming out into the light, in the words of today’s gospel reading.

And/Or

(vi) Fourth Sunday of Lent

A painting hung for many years on a dinning room wall in the Jesuit house on Lesson Street. No one paid much attention to it until one day someone with a keen eye realized that this could be something of great value. It was further investigated by art experts, and it turned out that this painting was the work of the great Italian artist Caravaggio. The painting of the arrest of Jesus is now hangs one of the National Gallery’s great treasures. All those years it hung in the dining room of Lesson Street it was no less a treasure, but its value went unrecognized. It hung there waiting to be discovered, waiting for someone to recognize its true value as a work of art.

According to the particular translation of the letter to the Ephesians we read from this evening, we are all ‘God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life’. We don’t tend to think of ourselves as works of art. Yet, like the person who spotted the painting in Lesson Street, God knows our true worth, our true value. We are works of art to God; we are of great worth and value in God’s sight.

We can all think of people in our own lives whom we value greatly, whose worth to us is beyond price, because to us they are works of art. Today is Mother’s day, and most of us think of our mothers in that way, whether they are still living or are with the Lord. When someone is a treasure to us, we don’t count the cost in their regard. We will do anything we can for them. We will travel long distances to see them; we will stay up half the night to be with them if they are ill; we will protect them with all our passion when necessary. How we relate to those we value and treasure is not determined so much by how they relate to us. Even if they do something that annoys us, we tend to make all kinds of allowances for them. We say something like, ‘that’s just the way he/she is’. Their worth in our eyes is rooted in something deeper than what they do or fail to do. We value them, simply, for who they are.

Our experience of how we relate to those we value, and of how people who value us relate to us, gives us a glimpse of how God relates to us. God loves us in a way that does not count the cost. The gospel reading today expresses that truth very simply: ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son’. God sent his Son out of love for us and that sending became a giving when his Son was put to death on a cross. Here was a love that did not count the cost, a sending that became a costly giving when that was called for. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘God loved us so much that he was generous with his mercy’. We are of such value in God’s eyes that God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up to benefit us all. It is not surprising that the cross has become the dominant symbol of Christianity. This is not because we glorify suffering in any way, but because we recognise that the cross is a powerful sign of how much God values us, how precious we are in God’s sight; it shows the extent to which God is prepared to go to express love for us.

Our love for those we value is bestowed on them for who they are more than for what they do. The same is true of God’s love for us in Christ. As Paul says in the second reading, ‘it is not based on anything you have done’. Some of us find it difficult to really believe that. We find ourselves asking, ‘how I done enough?’ Yet, when it comes to someone in our lives whom we know truly loves us, we would never think of asking them, ‘Have I done enough?’ Why should we ask such a question of God, when even the greatest of human love is only gives us a glimpse of God’s love? God loves us for who we are, people made in the image of God’s Son, and, to that extent, works of art.

What God asks of us is that we receive God’s love revealed and made present in Christ, or, in the words of the gospel reading today, that we come into the light. The light of God’s love falls upon us, but we can hide from it. Children fear the darkness very often. But as adults we often fear the light, because we suspect that the light will expose us in some way. Yet, the light of God is not a harsh light, the kind of light that is trained on a suspect in an interrogation room. It is a strong, yet warm, light that brings healing and generates new life. It is an empowering light that enables us to ‘live the good life’, as Paul says in the second reading, ‘to do good works’. As the hours of day light are increasing in these days, we pray that the life-giving light of God’s love would renew us and fill us with a new desire to serve him.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

[santoschristos]

Cosmic Avatars Many of the world’s great spiritual teachers are in fact Cosmic Masters who have come to Earth from other planets. Examples include the Master Jesus, Sri Krishna, the Lord Buddha, Lao Zi, Confucius and Sri Patanjali. These spiritually advanced individuals have given of their otherworldly wisdom in different ways, at different times, in different places to help us to progress in our evolutionary journey back to the Divine Source from which we came.

The words attributed to them in ancient texts such as the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita, the Dao De Jing (also known as the Tao Te Ching), and so on, are a shining light to all humanity – even if these great works, as passed down to us through the centuries, are not necessarily entirely accurate or complete in their current form. We should focus on the ideals such inspirational texts have in common, rather than focusing on petty differences in dogma, as has happened so frequently in our history – often with gruesome consequences which are the very opposite of the philosophies in question.

The word “avatar” comes from a Sanskrit word meaning “descent”, because these great beings have come down to us from their heavenly abodes on other planets. They have chosen, in compassion, to sacrifice their bliss and allow a part of their consciousness to be born as a baby on Earth in a body apparently just like us. They then stay here for an allotted time, during which they help humanity in various ways, including giving spiritual teaching.

While incarnate upon Earth a Cosmic Avatar is under tremendous limitation and has only a fraction of the powers and wisdom which they enjoy on their own planet. One important reason for this is the very poor state of the karma of humankind as a whole. In simple terms we are not ready for, and do not deserve, the direct, open intervention of these great beings in what is termed their “Full Aspect”.

The Aetherius Society

art: Cosmic Avatars by --Mahaboka

[aureentuluva70]

Christmas Poem

T'was a night very dark and dim, 

The wind did wail and howl, 

the seas did roar with fury grim, 

And mournful sang the owl. 

Dark clouds cloaked the starry skies, 

Hindering heaven’s light, 

The air was rent with sorrowful cries

That split the dreary night. 

But then the wailing wind was stilled, 

The awful storm did cease, 

And all things on earth were filled

With a strange yet wondrous peace. 

In amaze Men paused to listen, 

But for what they did not know,

And wonder in their eyes did glisten

like moonlight on the snow. 

Then there stirred in every mortal heart

A whisper, small and still, 

Yet it pierced the soul like a fiery dart

And with wonder their hearts did fill. 

Then suddenly the silence was broken

with a sound sweeter than song of bird, 

for in darkness a light was awoken

and a baby’s cry was heard. 

The dim-lit roads of Bethlehem

Echoed softly with that sound, 

Of the newborn child of David’s stem, 

And about the streets it wound. 

The dark clouds faded and fled away, 

And the skies were suddenly rent

With radiant light whose heavenly ray

Pierced the firmament. 

Twas a star that shone in heaven high, 

And Men marveled at the sight

And gazed ever upwards to the sky

Whence came that unearthly light. 

And in the distance, a celestial song

from high above came streaming

like rain upon the earth, the throng

of Heaven was heard singing. 

Over all the marveling world 

Sang the countless, holy legions, 

and their white banners they unfurled

Over all the earthly regions. 

Those angels’ song like dawn burst forth,

Sure and strong and true, 

To the East, the West, the South, the North, 

And like a wind it blew. 

In blessed music the earth is drenched, 

and all desires, cares and fears, 

are in one single moment quenched

as that song reaches Men’s ears. 

Oh, what marvelous, divine splendor

In those angels’ hymns of delight

did pour out over all, so tender, 

In glory pure and bright!

The sorrowing earth sighs with relief, 

Then laughs loudly for joy, 

Breaking forth into tears, not of grief, 

But happiness, for that boy, 

that boy, O Jesus Christ the Lord, 

the Great Immanuel, 

O Child Divine, O Prince adored, 

Born on earth to dwell,

To dwell among the Children of God, 

And to redeem them from the Fall, 

to bow beneath justice's rod,

to at last save us all. 

Then at last the children weary

Fall into blissful sleep

And dream of light and places cheery

In slumber buried deep. 

And high above the star still streamed

upon the tranquil earth below. 

Proudly it still brightly beamed 

in defiance of mankind’s foe.

And then the voice was heard once more

Still and small yet clear, 

And glad tidings that angel bore

in starry midnight sheer: 

“Lift up your head, be of good cheer, 

For behold, the time is at hand. 

For Heaven’s Prince of Peace so dear

Has descended to mortal land. 

A Light, brighter than any star

In a world long marred with sin, 

The Son of God is born in lands afar

To save his earthly kin.

On this night is Jesus born, 

The Lord of all Creation!

Weep no longer, no longer mourn

For here is Man’s Salvation!”

And thus on that marvelous night

In Bethlehem, House of Bread, 

Christ was born, the Living Light,

To save both living and dead. 

The veil between heaven and earth was torn

As with a shining, sharpened sword

On the night that He was born, 

At the coming of the Lord. 

Sing to our Lord praises undying

With the songs that angels sing, 

For in that lowly manger was lying 

Earth and Heaven’s King. 

“On this night is Jesus born, 

The Lord of all Creation!

Weep no longer, no longer mourn

For here is Man’s Salvation!”

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Sunday, May 5, 2024

april 22_may 5

The Bright Resurrection of Christ. The Pascha of the Lord.

The End of the Great Lent.

Christ is Risen! Truly he is risen!

Хрistoс вoсkрeс! – вoисtину вoсkreс

Le Christ est ressuscité - En vérité il est ressuscité

ACTS 1:1-8

1 The former account I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach, 2 until the day in which He was taken up, after He through the Holy Spirit had given commandments to the apostles whom He had chosen,

3 to whom He also presented Himself alive after His suffering by many infallible proofs, being seen by them during forty days and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. 4 And being assembled together with them, He commanded them not to depart from Jerusalem, but to wait for the Promise of the Father, "which," He said, "you have heard from Me;

5 for John truly baptized with water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now. 6 Therefore, when they had come together, they asked Him, saying, "Lord, will You at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?"

7 And He said to them, "It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority.8 But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.

JOHN 20:19-25

19 Then, the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them, "Peace be with you."

20 When He had said this, He showed them His hands and His side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. 21 So Jesus said to them again, "Peace to you! As the Father has sent Me, I also send you."

22 And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.

24 Now Thomas, called the Twin, one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. 25 The other disciples therefore said to him, "We have seen the Lord." So he said to them, "Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe."

JOHN 1:1-17

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God.

3 All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. 4 In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.

5 And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it. 6 There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.

7 This man came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all through him might believe. 8 He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light.

9 That was the true Light which gives light to every man coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him.

11 He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. 12 But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name:

13 who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. 14 And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.

15 John bore witness of Him and cried out, saying, "This was He of whom I said, 'He who comes after me is preferred before me, for He was before me.'" 16 And of His fullness we have all received, and grace for grace.

17 For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

[feedingtheflockministry]

Morning Prayer O God, as the morning has risen upon us, may the Sun of righteousness also rise upon us. Chase away the shadows of darkness from us, and may we be light in the Lord. Enable us to put off all the works of darkness, whatever belongs to the old evil nature, and to put on the garments of light, doing the works of the day and not of the night. May our light shine before men, that seeing us, they may glorify You. We desire to grow in grace. As the deer pants after the water-brooks, so our souls long after You. Our souls thirst for God, for the living God. Nothing else will satisfy them. This world has in it nothing to meet the needs of our immortal spiritual natures. Let us not try to feed ourselves on that which is not bread — but may we learn to bring all our needs to You who alone can satisfy them. We come to You to begin the day — that we may have Your blessing upon it. Nothing is complete without You. As the flowers need the dew and the sunshine to make them fragrant — so do our lives need Your blessing to make them truly happy. Lay Your hand upon our heads as we bow before You. Direct our feet in all the day's paths. We want to carry out Your plan, not our own. Order our steps in Your word. Give us our work as we go on. Help us to be truthful, honest, and diligent in all our words and conduct. Prosper us in all our undertakings, unless they are wrong. Defeat whatever we undertake that is not agreeable to Your will. We go out now in our Savior's name, and we ask You to take us and use us to do Your will and to bless others. We ask all for Jesus' sake. Amen.