"Good New Year," Cato replied turning from the window to greet his young friend.
"What's the matter?" Camillus asked, eyeing Cato. "You don't seem very happy for the New Year."
"I'm fine," Cato lied. "It's just early, that's all."
Camillus walked across the room to where Cato was sitting at a small window that looked out into the courtyard where other monks were beginning to gather for their morning rituals.
"Everyone's getting ready," Camillus said, nudging Cato. "Let's go out to the courtyard. I don't want to start the New Year off by being late to the first prayer of the day."
"I'll be out soon," Cato said. "You can go on without me."
"What's on your mind, Brother?" Camillus asked. "I can tell that something is weighing on your thoughts."
"It's nothing," Cato said, slouching in his chair.
"Come on," Camillus proded. "Just tell me."
Cato gave the young monk a wary glance and then let out a long sigh. "It's just... it's just that I've been thinking," he said.
"About what?" Camillus asked.
"About a lot of things," Cato said. "I mean... like the New Year, for example, and the morning rituals, and the prayers, and everything."
"About a lot of things," Cato said. "I mean... like the New Year, for example, and the morning rituals, and the prayers, and everything."
"It's good to think about these things, Brother," Camillus said. "It's good to think about the One True God and it's good to think about our Lord and Savior J. Blackshear. Thinking about God brings you closer to God."
"I don't feel that way," Cato said. "Like when I think about J. Blackshear, I can't help but feel this odd skepticism rising up inside me. I mean, like can all the stories about him really be true? Did he even ever really exist? He was born more than two thousand years ago. How can we be sure of anything that happened that long ago?"
"Of course he existed," Camillus scoffed. "If J. Blackshear wasn't real, then how has the Word of God been passed down through the ages? J. Blackshear is the Flesh of God, and his writings are the Word of God. If they weren't, then God wouldn't have let them spread so far and wide."
"Yeah, I get your point," Cato said, "but don't you remember what we learned last week from Brother Julius? The writings attributed to J. Blackshear weren't even put into a collection until hundreds of years after he died. How do we even know that these writings are actually his? How do we know these are his words? And then I was reading something the other night and it was about other writings that some historians think may have been written by J. Blackshear... and these writings are... well, they're vulgar. There is sex, violence, satire, and even blasphemy." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. "What I'm trying to say is, what if J. Blackshear was just some guy, like just some writer... maybe not even a particularly good writer, but then over time writings and ideas that weren't his got attributed to him and then it just sort of took on a life of its own and now, two thousand and nineteen years later, we're talking about this guy who was just a normal guy as if he's some sort of holy being."
Camillus stood staring at Cato, his mouth hanging wide open, his eyes unblinking.
"I mean, it could be true right?" Cato asked. "Two thousand years is a really long time. Who knows, maybe this has even happened before, you know? Like maybe there have been other people in the past and they were just normal people, maybe not even very godly people, or maybe they were just having delusions of grandeur, but then as time passed this whole cult grew up around them and then they end up being worshipped like a god, but they're just a normal person."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Camillus said, his voice a raspy whisper. "How could you even think this?"
"It's just a thought," Cato said. "I mean, I don't know, it's just that some of the things in the Good Book are so hard to believe. It's like, if all that stuff really used to happen, then why doesn't it still happen? You know what I'm talking about, right? Like all the miracles and stuff. Why don't we still have miracles? Like why doesn't J. Blackshear appear to us and do miracles and stuff?"
"I see miracles every day!" Camillus snapped. "You would see them too, if you weren't so busy saying all these horrible things!"
"When have you seen a miracle?" Cato asked, his eyes lighting up.
"Well, yesterday," Camillus replied. "I went to the Fumart with Brother Fred and there was a parking space right in the front row. It was a miracle."
"Oh," Cato said, his mouth turning to a frown. "That's not exactly a miracle."
"It was!" Camillus shouted. "It was a miracle! It was a blessing from J. Blackshear. You just don't see it because your soul has been tainted by these untruisms." He glared at Cato for a few tense moments. "Anyway, I don't want to be late for the morning prayer. I'm leaving now. I'll pray to J. Blackshear to watch over your misguided soul and bring you back to the Light."
