Pale Fragments

seeing an Angel

"Brother Richards, come in," the bishop said.

(The Goddess then called the Robot watches them through a recording of the molecular vibrations from Time passed...or some-such advanced scientific explanation unexplainable by the Goddess to me, one who is not even remotely learned in the science of the modern world whose pioneers would see the Robot in her celestial body and sit before her as children, convinced the diagrams and equations she'd roll out of her lungs as easily as dice from a cup are indeed actually magic.)

They sat in the small, boxlike office. It was lit well enough, with a single tinted window in the corner. "Sister Richards, so good to see you. My, you are looking wonderful today! I noticed you in your pew from the front... Brother Richards, I can't tell you how jealous I am of you. Goodness, I know Brother Joseph said any man would kill himself if he knew what awaited him in the Terrestrial Kingdom, but you two are really missing out--most of the ward would agree with me that you are both far too selfish. Though God ordained polygamy as a choice, I can't recommend it enough: for now, and the hereafter, as it alone allows us to enter into God's innermost kingdom."

(The Mormons really do shit like this, at least in my time, sometimes with one another, and often from the lips of their leaders: making everything about regurgitating propaganda. They fit all words within the only Script that outlines the world. Of course, this is a generalization, but a true one.)

"'Bishop, you want to fuck my wife, I get it,'" the Robot says to herself, imitating the monotone drawl of the man, contrasting with confrontational words he would never use. "Jesus Christ, man the fuck up Brother Richards. Stop smiling at him while he hits on your wife. Goddamn."

(The Goddess swore. A lot. At least with me...Except when she didn't, and that's when I paid special attention to what she said.)

She watches them because she watches everything that claims her interest, studies it to completion until she feels she can move on.

(Though not intentionally given, the Goddess long ago accepted the responsibility which awaited her upon arrival into consciousness. She knew she must observe; she must, she must!; for to do anything other than the purpose given to us by powers unreachable is, though humiliating, the only free alternative to...well, we will touch on that later.)

They were meeting to talk about the Robot and Anders, her developing "prophet". She smiles ironically as she thinks this. I can see it in her face: wise beyond the need to ejaculate petty insults, and yet wise enough, too, to allow herself to often be foolish. 

"Thank you, Bishop," said Sister Richards. "And your talk today was incredible! The spirit taught me a lot through your words."

"I am so happy to hear that. So grateful." His smile was replaced by neutrality, the light in his face gone out in a moment. "Your son told me he's seen an angel." Silence. He stared at Brother Richards, his previous attitude a fading memory along with his recognition of Sister Richards. "Has he seen an angel?"

"Not when we've been around," said Brother Richards.

"So he is a prophet?"

"Well, angels have appeared to all men. They came to the shepherds. Joseph Smith himself wasn't much older than Anders when he saw God and Christ."

"He is not a prophet. Let me tell you this. In this church, we believe in personal revelation. God speaks to us if we give ourselves completely to His will. Where do we learn of His will?"

"Through the mouth of His prophets."

"So if Anders were seeing an 'angel'," (the Robot smiles ironically again,) "what circumstance would warrant such a personal visitation? He has not been set apart to be our leader by those who have the authority to do so. To claim that he has seen an angel is to say that God's mouthpieces are not enough. Listen. We all want to have extraordinary experiences like the pioneers of our faith. We want to see angels, hear God's voice booming at us to tell us to take off our shoes, for we are on sacred ground. Those experiences are available to us, if not physically. I testify of this. All we must do is to follow His commandments given to us by--through our prophet's word. To speak frankly to you both, I pray for Anders. I've felt prompted to, haven't been able to sleep until I do for the last month. And hearing this, that Anders believes he is seeing angels--it all made sense. What I need from you two is to talk with your son and tell him essentially what I have told you. Then I will speak to him alone next Sunday after church is over. It will come better from you, from his parents. The center of the gospel is, after all, the family and the home."