The Word of God…And The Winchesters

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made… In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.”  John 1:1-5

“I’m sorry. I – I think you have to go back to start.” Castiel 7:21

But back to which word, which beginning, perhaps even which God?

Perhaps The Word is as simple as “sonovabitch!”.  A small word, to be sure, but loaded with meaning.  A cry of pain.  A curse of frustration.  An exclamation of joy.

Of course, The Word may be a complete surprise to us. Perhaps it is drawn from another magical realm – “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” anyone?

Which G/god?  We have seen a roomful of gods, those of legend and myth. But then, a proud, spiteful angel destroyed many of them.

We have heard many references to God.  He has been described as one who asked for blind obedience, absolute faith and complete loyalty.  The punishment for breaking those commandments was severe.

But, we have heard tell of another God, a kinder, gentler God. He feared for the safety of his creations, and locked up the monsters who would threaten them.

This God had a vision, imagination and compassion.  He saw the potential of the skinny, hairless 2-legged apes, with the inferior poetry.  He was eager to see the path they would chose, and so gifted them Free Will.

Though it may have pained him, He even told his angelic sons and daughters that these new beings were the way of the future, and that the angels should watch out for them; guard them; guide them; keep them safe, and respect and admire them.  

But then it seems something happened to this God.  Maybe he was disturbed by the endless fighting of his children.  Maybe he had a colossally bad day at the Office of the Universe.  Maybe it was a broken heart at the sight of what was happening to that jewel of a planet, the third rock from the Sun.

Whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes (perhaps they were two sizes too small) God stood there puzzling, and decided the best course of action was to get away. Declare a leave of absence.  Disappear.  Delegate to the underlings, and let them figure it out. 

Of course, that abdication moved the crown to other heads, mortal heads.  Two brothers were now tasked with the job of pulling the planet’s bus back from the brink again, and again, and again.  They would struggle mightily, in pain and anguish.  The weight of the burden would threaten their health, their sanity, their souls.

And verily, they looked to the heavens and shouted “Son of a Bitch!”.

Which leads us back to the beginning…

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

God is said to work in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.  And sometimes actions speak louder than words.

One day a young man, while trying to save two children, is electrocuted. His heart suffers terrible damage.  His death seems inevitable, and imminent.  

But then, a devoted brother finds a man who heals through faith, and he is saved.  However, the cost is another person’s life.  The young man is consumed by guilt.  He demands of the preacher….

Dean: Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?
Roy LeGrange: Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.
Dean: What did you see in my heart?
Roy: A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn’t finished. 

What job needs finishing?  

Later, the same young man goes to Hell.  He expects to spend eternity there, but instead he is rescued by an angel.  An angel with a message…

Dean: Who are you? 
Castiel: I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition…  I’m an Angel of the Lord. 
Dean: …And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?…  
Castiel: Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you. 

What work? To bring on an Apocalypse?  To end an Apocalypse? Or, just to fight evil in all its form?

The angel sends the young man on a trip through time with the orders…

Castiel: Listen to me. You have to stop it.
Dean: Stop what?

At the time it seemed as if he was to stop his brother from continuing down his dark path.  But could there be another “It” that needs stopping?

Good intentions.  Bad results.  Beginnings.  Endings.  Destiny.  Choice.  

Castiel: It’s not blame that falls on you, Dean, it’s fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. You have to stop it. 
Dean: Lucifer? The apocalypse? What does that mean? Hey! Don’t you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?
Castiel: I don’t know… they don’t tell me much. I know our fate rests with you.  

Beginnings are easy.  They are alive with the potential for richness and reward.  There is still the plan to follow.  Perfection is possible.  No diversions… Yet.

Castiel: Outside, today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It’s all right there, the whole plan. There’s nothing to add.

A wise man, perhaps even a G/god once said…

Chuck: Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There’s always gonna be holes. And since it’s the ending, it’s all supposed to add up to something. I’m telling you, they’re a raging pain in the ass.

Endings are hard.  Ask Death.  It’s his job to bring about the end of everything… 

Dean: …So is this the part where…where you kill me? 
Death: You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well…Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that’s barely out of its diapers. I’m old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you. 
Dean:  Well, I got to ask. How old are you? 
Death: As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless — at the end, I’ll reap him, too. 

We go back to the beginning, back to the start.

The angels, fallen and otherwise, are back. The demons are back.  The biblical monsters, the Leviathan, are back.  Like honeybees gathering honey and returning to the hive, all the players are returning to the board. 

Oh Death, can you be far behind?

As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.