A Sermon of Love
I love you all, my flock. I love you more than anything on Earth, more than anything in the roiling cosmos.
That is why I must kill you.
No, my sweets, no! Don’t struggle against your bonds. It won’t hurt. I would never hurt you. Sister Jennings, Brother Chambers, all the rest of your please, stop—you’ll chafe your wrists. It cuts my heart to even think of you in pain.
You know me. Shepherd Haisely! Everyone’s friend, the shoulder to cry on. I’ve been your guide, found you when you were lost, fed you and tended your wounds and wrapped you in warm blankets. You know you can trust me! Just be calm.
Do you remember, Sister Jennings? When you came to our little commune, your face was raw and red from crying. Your society had just kicked you out, tried to kill you. You knew that, deep down, you did not fit in with their ideals, could not conform to what they wanted you to be, but nor could you commit to being your true, genuine self. You were like a butterfly, half in and half out of its cocoon. Didn’t I help show you the way? Aren’t you happier now, being who you always were? You’ve become such a beautiful butterfly.
Don’t you agree, everyone? Sister Jennings has become the radiant person she was always meant to be. She’s been given room to grow, away from the grasping hands and prying eyes of the rest of the secret world. Now look at her. So full of love. So full of stars.
Shhhh. No need to cry. Here, let me dry your tears, since you can’t move your hands. There—that’s better, dear. Everyone, look at how calm she is now.
Now, I don’t want you to be frightened. This isn’t the end for us. This is the beginning. A new beginning. A new dawn!
Let’s treat it like a trip to the dentist’s office, see? I’ll show you the instruments so you won’t be afraid. Here, look at this fellow. Long and sharp. He looks fearsome, with all these edges, yes? But he’s not. This serrated blade is your friend. Good, there you go, get all of that fear out of your bodies. Leave only your love behind.
A question, Brother Gregor?
No, I will not be slitting your throats with this. Don’t be ridiculous! We had you bound as part of the ritual. It’s symbolic, see? You’re confined to your bodies, just like you’re confined to your chairs. When you are prepared for the next step, I will sever your literal bonds.
Then you will come here to the altar, and take a drink of our sacrament, and then we will sever your metaphorical bonds. Now, here is the cup we will all share.
What will we be drinking? Excellent question. We are drinking this black liquid here—bit like oil, actually. But it’s the blood of reality itself.
What I’m going to do will not hurt you, not really. It will set you free.
Think of the world out there, stitched through with secrets, soaked in misery. There is nothing here but truth. Your body might reject this truth, might mistake it for pain, but your soul will know it for the love that it is.
I’m going to cut your bonds now, my flock.
We are luminescent beings, trapped in these shells of mud and dirt. There is a world, the outer inner sanctum, both far into space and yet deep within our hearts. We are going to cast off these dull trappings and all become what we were truly meant to be. We will be one, in the Morninglight.
Now, come and drink, my loves. Yes, that’s it, form an orderly line. Sister Jennings, I’m so happy to see you be the first. Come, and taste the endless love of the stars.
Thanks for reading!
Theme: Agape
Character: Heather “Goonshine” Ramis