Author's Notes: My annual new birthday fic, also written for Forduary. It kind of fits this week's "Mind" prompt.

Ford was sitting at his desk in his basement lab, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes, when he heard a tentative voice from the doorway.

"Great-Uncle Ford?"

He put on his glasses to see Dipper slowly make his way into the room. "Is this a good time?" he asked.

"As good as any," Ford said, motioning his great-nephew forward. "Stanley is resting upstairs, and he's making excellent progress with his memory. I daresay you kids will have a fully revived Grunkle Stan in time for your birthday party."

"Glad to hear it," Dipper said, nodding in a distracted sort of way. He sat down. "I actually wanted your advice on something, but it's...kind of a weird question."

"Well, weird questions are my specialty!"

"I meant an unusual question."

"Those too."

"No, I meant―actually, it's sort of a...religious question."

Now Ford blinked. "Alright," he said cautiously. "But that's a lot less my forte. Unless―" His eyes lit up again. "Oh, I understand. You're about to turn thirteen, aren't you? Getting ready to become a bar mitzvah boy!"

Dipper fidgeted in his seat. "Well, that's the thing. I actually told my dad that I didn't want one."

"Oh."

"He asked me about it a year ago, and I said no," he continued, the words kind of tumbling out now. "But now I kind of think I do want one? I like the idea of some sort of rite of passage, I guess, now that I'm about to be a teenager. But I know it's a lot of hard work, and I haven't been studying for it or anything."

"Well, it is a lot of hard work. A lot of...long, boring, tedious work," Ford muttered, scratching his chin. "Like learning exo-dimensional runes, but without the practical applications. But it is an important milestone of a Jewish boy's life. I can see why you might feel conflicted about this."

"Yeah, that's another thing. You know Mabel and I aren't Jewish, right?"

He blinked. "You're not?!"

"No. I mean, not 'technically,'" he added, making air quotations. "Our mom isn't Jewish, and neither is our Grandma Ada. Our dad usually says that our family is 'more Jewish than anything else,' though, and we celebrate all the big holidays." He suddenly chuckled. "A few years ago Mabel tried to make us celebrate all the Jewish holidays. Even that one where you sleep outside in the little hut?"

"Oh, I know that one! It's, uh―Sukkah? Sukkot! Stanley and I tried to make one once, just as an excuse to camp out in the yard."

"Yeah, we did that too! Except then Mabel decided to set off some fireworks, so..." Dipper frowned. "She actually did have a bat mitzvah last year, but she wasn't really good at any of the Hebrew or the prayers that you're supposed to learn, so it basically just turned into an extra big birthday party. Which was kind of awkward, because all the 'extra big' stuff was for her and I was just kind of...there." He looked down at his feet. "Dad went along with it, but he seemed kind of disappointed about the whole thing. He never had a bar mitzvah himself, and he told me that I should probably just skip it unless I really felt like it was going to be, you know...meaningful to me."

Ford hesitated. "And you didn't think it would?"

"I dunno. I mean...you just said it was boring and pointless, didn't you?"

"Well, I, um―that is to say―hmm."

"I guess that's what I'm asking. 'Cause I don't know if I'm supposed to be Jewish or...something else, or what." He tentatively met Ford's eye. "What do you believe about that kind of stuff?"

Ford looked nervous. He was fairly certain that this was the sort of question that a parent should be fielding, and that Dipper's would be irate if he gave an answer that they did not like. Still, he felt like he should be honest.

"Well...Stanley and I are Jewish. Like your grandfather, obviously. But truth be told, our family wasn't exactly devout when we were growing up, and we kind of stopped going to synagogue after our own bar mitzvah." He hesitated, trying to think of something profound to add. "We had a mezuzah. You know, one of those things that you put on the front door. Ma thought it was a good luck charm, something to keep burglars away. It never worked, Stanley always found his way back inside somehow."

He glanced at Dipper, who gave only a wan smile at his joke. "But are you, like...religiously Jewish? Do you believe in God, or the Bible or anything like that?"

Ford scratched the back of his head. "Not as such," he admitted. "Even as a child, I was far more into science than theology. Much more concrete, more...useful."

"Yeah, but―" Dipper broke off.

"But what? Go on," he added, as his nephew hesitated.

"Well...it's just that your scientific research involved the magic properties of unicorn hair. Bill called himself a 'demon' and tried to start a literally apocalypse. I know that doesn't prove that God is real or Moses split the sea or whatever, but...it feels kind of weird to write that stuff off, don't you think?"

Ford considered. "Granted." Then, "Fiddleford and I actually debated this sort of thing quite often. And I admit, some of the points we discussed were on my mind during my journey through the multiverse."

Dipper perked up a bit. "Really? Like what?"

"Well―and please note that this is an expansive topic―one of the basic teleological debates is what you call the 'Watchmaker Argument.' Basically, it posits that since everything in our universe somehow works together to create life, that some sort of higher intelligence―a 'god,' if you will―must have actively designed it. The idea that everything just fits together automatically is just too improbable."

"Okay."

"The theory of parallel universes began, at least in part, as a refutation of this―that while our universe might function more or less seemlessly, other universes might not. In other words, our world is just a lucky accident, while the vast majority of other dimensions would be too chaotic to function or sustain life."

"Okay."

"Now, obviously the multiversal theory has been proven now, which would seemingly refute the Watchmaker Argument. But it did occur to me, during my travels...every universe I encountered did function with a set of internally coherent laws, and proved capable of life, even if they were vastly different from the rules and life in our own world. Theoretically, this validates the Watchmaker Argument. (I mean, the M Dimension must have had some kind of designer, though I doubt it was a very intelligent one.) But then, perhaps the universes that don't function correctly simply collapse into nonexistence, or life itself is more inherent in the laws of nature than we had previously believed. Frankly, the philosophical implications of it all are just staggering!"

"Okay...?"

Dipper was leaning forward expectantly. Ford looked sheepish.

"There's...really not a firm endpoint to this discussion, Dipper. I'm just kind of throwing out ideas for you to think about."

"Oh." He deflated.

"I'm sorry. I wish I had something more substantial to tell you. The fact is, I met plenty of so-called 'gods' during my travels. They all claimed to be omnipotent and omniscient, but inevitably turned out to be nothing but powerful egomaniacs with delusions of grandeur." He made a face, and then, in a lower voice, added "Like Bill."

"So he's the closest thing to a god that you've ever believed in?"

"...Don't say it like that, Dipper. That just sounds depressing."

"Hmm. Well, thanks, Great-Uncle Ford."

He got up and began to walk out of the room, with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He seemed disappointed with how this conversation had gone.

Ford hesitated, but then said "Dipper?"

"Yeah?"

"...Even if it is too late to have a bar mitzvah, that doesn't mean that you have to give up an interest in Judaism, or any other religion, for that matter. After all, this is hardly the sort of thing that you should decide on a whim. Talk to your father about this when you get home, and maybe do some research on your own. Like I said, I'm no rabbi. Just because I can't help you doesn't mean there aren't better answers out there."

Dipper looked pensive. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

He left, and Ford wondered if he had said anything wrong, either in favor of religion or against it. He couldn't deny that his own views on the matter were fairly bleak, but he didn't want to sugarcoat things either. But (and part of him was loathe to admit this) converting Dipper to his beliefs felt a lot like smothering his childhood innocence.

Dipper's comment about Bill really bothered him, though. He was the most powerful being that Ford had found in all his travels, but something in him rebelled at the idea that that fiend could be the multiverse's ultimate being. And besides, their family had defeated him. As hard-won and miraculous as their victory was, it―

Hmm. "Miraculous." Ford gave a soft chuckle.

He recalled, very vaguely, that there had once been some Jewish book in the shack somewhere―just some collection of essays that he had never bothered to actually read. He wondered if Stanley had thrown it out at some point. Maybe he could find it and give it to Dipper, as a sort of not-bar mitzvah gift to help him with his queries.

He also wondered if Fiddleford had managed to retain his religiosity during his years of madness, or at least regained it with his revival. He hoped so; it had been such a large part of his personality, even if it was one that occasionally clashed with his own. And besides, between his travels and Weirdmageddon, he had a feeling that they could have a lot more interesting debates on the subject.