Chapter 8 - Poverty, Chastity, Obedience

 

Chapter 08. Poverty, Chastity, & Obedience

Father Cullen

Forgive me, Lord, for wanting to ditch Jasper and spend the remainder of the evening with Bella Swan.

And bless Alice. Give her peace. And maybe a sign that she's unconditionally loved.

When Jasper showed up at church this morning, I was so sure he was an answer to my prayers. Now I'm not certain I can bear to tell him what's troubling me. I have so much to confess.

Like how I was so preoccupied thinking about Bella during mass, I didn't even notice Alice wasn't there.

How finding Bella in William Black's bar was the highlight of my evening.

And how I suspect she might be dating Jacob. It would make sense. And he's a good man, so it shouldn't trouble me. But it does.

"Interesting bar," Jasper says, pulling me out of my own head.

I hum. I nod. I study the ground very intently.

"Great meeting some of your congregation, they're quite… colorful."

Colorful is the perfect word for Bella. Maybe not her clothes - from what I've seen they're mostly gray and black. But her personality, her expressions, the little strip of blue in her hair, and her language are all extremely colorful. I add it to the growing list of words I use when I think of her.

"So what's got you so twisted up, Edward?"

I shake my head. "Just thinking about tonight's sermon, I guess."

"Terrific examples you gave for that parable, by the way."

Terrific examples.

I know the story refers to spreading God's word.

I know that.

But right now, I'm recalling the glint in Bella's eye and the smirk on her lips when she asked about spreading seeds back at the bar. And that it had nothing to do with spreading God's word.

It never used to mean anything like that to me before. Why would it? But now it's all I can think about.

That, and how anything of the sort is off the table for a Catholic priest.

"Thank you, Jasper."

"But no." He studies me for a moment, eyes narrowing. "It's something else."

I used to be grateful for his intuitive nature when I was younger, when it meant I didn't have to spell all of my feelings out for him every time we met. Now I'm wishing it wasn't so keen.

My steps quicken once I see the rectory, almost like I'm trying to run from Jasper's question. Almost like I don't want God's guidance.

"So, you gonna spill or what?" Jasper asks once we're inside.

He kicks his boots off, sits at the table and makes himself comfortable as I get us a couple of beers from the fridge. Eying me the entire time.

I twist the top off of mine and drink.

And he waits.

He's good at this. Always has been.

It still manages to piss me off.

"Nothing to tell," I finally say.

Forgive me, Lord. I don't know how to confess this to him yet.

"Okay." He chuckles before taking a swig of his beer.

Jasper sees right through me. He always has.

And he waits some more because he's patient. And a know it all.

"What brought you here?" I might be talking to Jasper, but I'm really questioning the Lord. Jasper seems to know this, and he doesn't look pleased.

"God pointed me in your direction today. And it's been a while. I wanted to see how you were."

"And?"

"And..." He swallows down more of his drink. "It seems He hasn't led me astray. It seems you could use some counsel."

"And what did God want you to tell me?"

"I have a feeling that's not the question you want to ask."

I finish my beer and set it down. I have a staring contest with it forever and a day before I finally swallow my pride.

"Ever… struggle with a member of your congregation before?"

"I struggle daily, Edward. It's part of the job."

"You never seem like it."

"Also part of the job." He smiles and tilts his beer toward me then takes a sip. As he drinks, I try to find a way to admit my failures to him.

Jasper leans back and eyes me like he can see every sinful thought inside my mind.

It makes me shift in my chair.

"You know we all have our trials and tribulations, Ed."

I try to grin. I don't want him to know how much I'm floundering here. He knows I'm non-traditional and I know he went out on a limb for me. I don't want him to think it was a mistake. I hope it wasn't a mistake.

It wasn't a mistake.

"Hell, I never thought I'd be a bishop but… here I am," he says.

His word choice takes me aback. In a good way. "Hell? You go rogue and not tell me about it, Jasper?"

"Hell's a place."

"But you're using it like you're swearing."

He shrugs. "You've got me there."

"Have I finally convinced you, Your Eminence?" It's the proper way to address a bishop, but I'm teasing. Jasper grins and the mood between us lightens a bit.

"I've always seen a little bit of myself in you, Ed. Some day, you could even be in my shoes."

Me? A bishop? One look at Jasper and I know my reaction is all wrong. I should be excited, eager to take him up on the opportunity.

Humbled.

And just a month ago, I would have been all those things.

A month ago I would have asked him, why not now?

A month ago, Bella wasn't here.

"Every time I visit, I can see how much your parishioners look up to you. How you support them, comfort them."

Jasper's not helping.

He thinks I'm being modest. He thinks I feel undeserving. And technically, I am.

"Do you remember back in the days at St. Vincent's?" I ask. "When Tyler Crowley used to sneak into the pantry at night, well after lights out?"

Jasper sets his beer down and I see the same man I met so many years ago.

The first friendly face I saw at St. Vincent's Home for Boys, where they sent me after my parents' car accident. The man that taught me getting the belt for saying your prayers wrong wasn't how God showed His love. Or that skipping out on communion didn't mean you missed out on dinner. That parents weren't always right, and kids weren't always wrong.

"How could I forget Tyler?"

And that you could steal chocolate and live to tell the tale.

"Without fail, you'd give him demerits the day after, because we weren't supposed to eat after lights out."

Eventually, I taught him a few things too. Like how you can be yourself and still be a priest without having to conform to the world's idea about what a priest acts like. And how maybe some of the church's traditions don't quite fit into modern society.

Jasper shakes his head. "I remember. The boy liked Hershey bars too much for his own good."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

I swallow.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you just stop buying us chocolate? Or lock the pantry? You knew he'd go after it. You saw him. He had to sneak past your office to get there."

Jasper takes a deep breath in and lets it out as he studies me carefully. "Why did God put delicious apples in the Garden of Eden if he knew Eve would eat one?"

That's easy. "She ate them of her own free will."

"There ya go," he says. "Answered your own question." He takes another drink and finishes off his beer this time.

"But he set her up. He purposefully let her choose something that was disastrous for her."

"Was it?"

His question surprises me. Jasper's not typically one to play devil's advocate. For him, there's God's way, and then there's God's way.

"Ultimately. Yeah. It got her - and Adam - kicked out of the garden of Eden."

"And yet they were still able to practice their faith in God outside the garden." He eyes my beverage. "You need another?"

"Yeah." I hand him my empty bottle and he gets up to grab two more beers from the fridge.

"With knowledge, people were better able to appreciate God's power, understand his dominion over all things. It gave them a reason to strive to be better - to get back to paradise."

He hands me my beer and taps it with his before he sits down again.

"It also led to the creation of the human race. We wouldn't be here today without Eve seeing Adam, and him seeing her, and them lusting after each other."

I swear I've never heard this side of him before.

"People can choose to follow the straight and narrow, surrender themselves to God's will. This brings us closer to paradise, or … they might stray. And Edward, everyone strays, one way or another. It's a more difficult path, but it can still turn out good in the end."

I can't quite wrap my head around the message Jasper's trying to teach me.

"Something you're trying to tell me, here, Edward?" He asks me with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Or did you just need a refresher on original sin?"

I belt down half my beer.

My nerves take over and I spill the drink all over my shirt.

"Fuck."

Jasper shakes his head but he's smiling at least. "Always the rebel."

I set the beer down and go to get a shirt out of the laundry room.

"It's just a word, Jasper," I call out as I find the tee I'm looking for.

"Intention is the key!" he adds, quoting myself back to me. "You know you should have published your research paper. Could have made a world of difference in the number of confessions we hear each year."

By the time I join him again, I'm laughing for the first time since we left the bar.

"So many hours proving you had every right to curse up a storm and no fulfillment in proving it to anyone."

"I only wanted to prove it to myself," I remind him.

"And to me," he adds.

And he's right. His approval has always meant the world to me, which is why this is so difficult.

Something catches his attention as I pull the shirt over my head. Then he nods to the words inked on my upper chest. "They still mean something to you?"

"Of course," I reply without having to think about it. Within hours of saying my vows, I'd had them permanently etched where I'd see them every day. Where I could remind myself of what I promised God.

Poverty. Chastity. Obedience.

And I've kept those ideals close to my heart ever since. I've never wavered.

Until, that is, two days ago when Bella entered my confessional.

"Why do I have a feeling you don't mean that?" His question is sincere. The worried look on his face says it all.

I sit back down at the table and wrap my hands around my beer, but I don't take another drink yet. I keep a keen eye on the label.

"You addicted to chocolate, Edward?" he asks me, a bit hesitant. Like maybe he doesn't want to know the answer.

"Not exactly."

It's quiet between the two of us for a few minutes. I don't know if he's debating or praying.

Probably praying.

I know I am.

For the strength to put my pride aside and confess my shortcomings.

"We didn't end up at Billy's bar by accident tonight," I tell him honestly. Finally. And in one sense, it's like lifting a weight off of my soul. But it's more complicated than that. It's more than being riddled with guilt. It's exciting. And it's terrifying at the same time. It's agonizing and amazing. And I'm relieved that I can finally look him in the eye and talk about all of it.

Jasper gazes back at me with sincere concern and nods like he already knew. "Charlie Swan's daughter, I take it?"

I shrug. And I'm ashamed of myself for letting him down. But I'm also dying to tell him more.

"The small one you seemed so concerned about? With the hiccups?"

"Ye-" I stop when I realize he's referring to Alice. "No."

He seems surprised. "The one with the earrings, then?" he asks.

I nod some more.

Because yes, the earrings, and the tattoo. And the quick wit, the self-doubt, the intoxicating laugh, and the endearing smile. All of it. Everything about her tempts me like I haven't been tempted since I crushed on Professor Susan Clearwater back in college.

"I might have been hoping to run into Bella there." And I fight the urge to smile like I do every time I see her, speak to her... Or even hear her name.

He tents his hands, leaning them against his chin. He closes his eyes and his expression turns pensive. I've seen this look so many times before. Not with me, though. He's never had to worry about my faith.

Until now.

"Don't worry, Ed." He leans forward, puts a hand on my shoulder, and looks me in the eye. "He'll get you through this." Then his eyes glance upward like he's already started praying for me.

The conversation is over. And I'm a little disappointed.

"I hope so." I breathe. I'm not entirely sure I mean it. I'd rather tell him more about Bella.

Jasper gives me a disapproving look.

"I have faith He will." I correct myself.

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins -" he begins.

"- and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness," I finish quietly.

"If you're not comfortable with St. Mary's, Edward, we can -"

"No, no, I'm comfortable. More than I thought I would be. I thought I wanted out of Brooklyn, but this congregation welcomed me with open arms."

"I wasn't convinced you were ready for your own parish, but you jumped into this without hesitation."

"I was ready. I am ready."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"You don't sound sure today."

And the defiant kid in me wants to tell him I have no doubts. I don't. Being a priest is the only thing I ever wanted with absolute certainty. It was the easiest choice I ever had to make. It's what I'm good at. Where I fit.

And St. Mary's is perfect. Small enough. Private enough. I can push boundaries and still play by the rules.

A perfect combination of God's rules and my own.

Jasper narrows his eyes, almost like he's deciding whether or not to say something else. Or maybe he's deciding whether or not I want to hear it.

"I was contacted about a position I thought might be perfect for you, you know."

"Yeah?"

He's piqued my interest. Kind of.

"There's a parish with an opening for a priest. In Europe."

And suddenly, my heart stops. Because it's the bishop thing all over again.

A month ago…

"Maybe it's an opportunity to take the chocolate out of the cupboard," he suggests. And he watches me carefully as I let it sit.

And sit. And sit.

Is that what I want? It should be what I want. It might have been what I wanted. A month ago.

He sees me struggling, so, Jasper being Jasper, he offers me a way out of this conversation. For the time being. "You don't have to decide now. But you have to admit, God seems to be opening doors for you."

I don't respond as he yawns big and long.

"You tired, old man?" I ask him, happy to change the subject.

Jasper chuckles. "The spirit is willing, but sometimes the body is weak I guess. We can talk more tomorrow." He stands and stretches. He reaches for his bag. " You heading up too?" he asks.

"Oh... No. I've got to review tomorrow's homily." He gives me a look. He knows I'm typically on top of things. He knows that normally I would have had it done and re-written three times by now.

I shrug. "Edits."

I laugh it off, but the sound dies in the back of my throat. The truth is, I've still got to write the damned thing. And it would be easy to blame this on Bella, to chalk it up to the way I let thoughts about her distract me from each and every task I should be doing. But I refuse to add my name to the list of people unfairly blaming her for their failures.

I will, however, add myself to the list of people grateful to meet another enthusiastic rule-breaker. Albeit, she's one who doesn't seem to have found the unconditional acceptance she deserves. Yet.

And then... I believe I know the ideal parable to share this time.

At least I hope so.