On Every Side (6 page)

Joshua's heartbeat accelerated. He looked from Frank to the other men and back again. File a lawsuit against Bethany? The town was too quiet, too small to ruffle the political feathers of a group such as HOUR. “Why would they do that?”

The men at the table exchanged glances, and just when Joshua thought he couldn't take the suspense any longer, Frank spoke up. “They want the Jesus statue.”

For a moment Joshua was confused. The Jesus statue? What would a group such as HOUR want with Bethany's Jesus statue? “I'm not sure I understand.”

Frank leaned closer. “They want it down, Joshua. Removed from the park. It's a Christian symbol standing on public prop-erty, exactly the kind of thing HOUR loves to go after.” <

A tingling sensation began in Joshua's fingers and made its way up through his arms and down his spine. HOUR wanted to remove the Jesus statue? Immediately his mind kicked into gear. “This is big…”

Frank sat back in his chair. “Exactly.” He looked at the others. “Joshua, we've had a meeting and this isa battle we don't want to lose. We need more than general attorney wisdom this time.” The general attorney in the group raised his eyebrows and took a sip of orange juice. Frank obviously was not worried about hurting the man's pride. “We'll have to wait until they file suit, but if they do… we've all agreed we want you to be our primary counsel on the case.”

HOUR wanted to remove a monument that had stood as the single, most well-loved landmark in town for more than a hun-dred years? The story was bound to gain statewide attention— even nationwide. Joshua had a sudden sense of panic.

This was too big for him. He needed Bob for this kind of thing.

As I was with Bob Moses so I will be with you.

But this is senous, Lord. It'll take more than me
—
Joshua, I will never leave you nor forsake you.

Frank was looking at him. “I'm assuming you want the job.” He paused, his gaze leveled at Joshua.” It'll be the biggest case you've handled since you and Bob opened shop.”

“Right, I know.”
Be strong and courageous…
“Of course… I'd be honored. The statue has to stay, it's that simple.”

“Off the cuff, could you…I mean, you know, if you had to make a guess at it now… do you think they could force us to take it down?” Frank's usual eloquence had fled in light of all that was at stake.

Joshua swallowed hard. “Depends on how much precedent they pull.”

“Precedent?” Frank's eyes narrowed. “Isn't the law clear cut?”

“Not usually.” This from the general attorney, who cast a look at Joshua. “My understanding is that case precedent works against us this time, am I right?”

Joshua nodded. “Right. HOUR prides itself on eliminating the aspects of American culture they feel violate the separation of church and state. The Jesus statue is the perfect target.”

There was silence as Frank crossed his arms, his teeth clenched. “That statue's part of this town. They don't have the right to come in here and—”

“We'll have to find a loophole, a way to outsmart them.” Joshua hung his head for a moment and then looked at the others again. “I have to be honest, with Bob gone it won't be easy.”

“You'll have our support, whatever we can do.” The general attorney tapped his pencil. “It isn't a matter of the religious right or
Separation of church and state. That statue belongs to the people of Bethany, and my guess is there's not a person within a hundred miles offended by it.”

“Save that.” Joshua smiled. “We might need it for closing arguments—”

Frank broke in. “None of it matters unless they actually file suit. And we won't know that until Monday”

The men agreed to keep the issue to themselves unless it became a reality. In that case, they'd need all the favorable media contacts they could get. Joshua thought of Faith Evans and hoped it wouldn't have to involve her. She'd been through enough without adding this.

The meeting was over, and the men went their own ways—all but Frank and Joshua. They talked about the possibilities as they wandered toward the parking lot. “I'll do whatever I can to help you.” Frank shoved his hands in his pockets. “Be ready”

Be ready… be ready…
The same words held felt God laying on his heart the day before.
Be strong…be ready
…
I'll go before you.
Yes, though the situation might seem impossible, the Lord had His hand in it.

Frank drove away and Joshua followed. But instead of heading home to Helen, he turned right and then right again on Main Street… half a block down to Jericho Park. It was a small place, really. Not like those built by newer communities, with tennis courts and indoor swimming pools and play equipment stretching half an acre. On the left stood a double swing set and two slides—set in sand. Also in the play area were two teeter-totters and an old metal merry-go-round, the kind kids powered by running alongside. Ancient maple trees edged the park on both sides, and a cement walkway meandered along the entire perime-ter. Across from the play yard was less than two acres of neatly manicured mature grass.

And standing proudly in the center of the grass was the Jesus statue.

Joshua climbed out of his car and walked toward it, remem-bering all the times he'd worked or played or loved or laughed in the shadow of that chiseled, ten-foot piece of stone. A few years ago the Bethany
Chronicle
ran a story about the statue, detailing the history of the piece. Created by a local artist, it was donated to the city before the turn of the twentieth century Of course, back then Bible lessons were taught in public schools and the Ten Commandments hung in every classroom. The townsfolk received the statue gratefully, in awe of the artist's ability to capture Christ's expression of compassion.

Over the decades stories had risen and become part of the town's folklore—stories of people passing through town, spotting the Jesus statue, and being so moved they gave their lives to the Lord then and there. Or of people who'd been to the park a hun-dred times suddenly seeing something about the eyes of the sculpture that caused them to come clean with God and pray for a fresh start.

Joshua moved closer to the statue. It was no surprise.

The statue depicted Jesus, arms outstretched, palms up, beck-oning those with hurts or fears or pain to come to Him. There was something about the eyes…something steeped in love and peace and grace and forgiveness. Something that showed the way Christ would always yearn for the return of His people.

Joshua was at the foot of the statue now and he read the plac-ard engraved at its base: “Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest… Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Jesus.”

That was it. A person could actually feel his soul resting in the presence of Christ's words, in the shadow of His image. Not that
the statue itself held any power, it simply directed one to con-sider the greatness of God, the peace one might experience if only he took Jesus up on His offer.

Certainly in light of the political climate and in light of the persecution promised in Scripture, it was understandable that some might find the statue offensive. But remove it from the park? Joshua thought about other public places he'd visited, parks with statues of famous generals, influential Native American leaders, or great men and women in the Civil Rights movement. If those statues were allowed, what right did HOUR have to remove one that depicted Jesus Christ?

Regardless of whether people took Him at His word, Christ was real. He lived and died and made a tremendous impact on people, both in His day and in the present. That alone should be justification for keeping the statue up. Christ was an historical figure.

But Jesus was so much more than that. And Joshua was willing to bet the people at HOUR knew this. Certainly they were aware that no other man in history had affected mankind as much as Christ. No other had demonstrated the power to instill such deep emotions and widely varying reactions from people. His presence was life-changing for some while it filled others with violent hate. There was no one else who evoked such a dra-matic response from all who came to know of Him.

But then no other man was the Son of God.

Joshua sighed, studying the statue's eyes. They seemed so life-like. So full of love, of compassion.

Joshua closed his eyes.
Don't let them file suit against us, God. What if we lose? What of the cost to the people of Bethany if the statue is forced to go?

Joshua blinked and turned his back to the statue. Gazing into the blue sky over Bethany he begged God again to keep HOUR from filing, painfully aware that the law was on their side, not his.

Be strong and courageous, Joshua. I will go before you.

The holy whispers resonated in Joshua's soul, bringing a sense of peace he hadn't felt since Bob died. Somehow he knew that whatever might happen Monday, God would see him through. He rested in that thought for a moment.
Okay, Lord…I'll trust You.

After all, what choice did he have? Outside of God's intervention, if HOUR filed suit against Bethany on Monday the situation would be hopeless.

Whether Joshua was strong and courageous or not.

J
ordan drove to Bethany Sunday afternoon and by ten o'clock that night had checked into a local motel. Normally seven hours in the car would give him time to review his caseload, strategize about upcoming lawsuits, and work on closing argu-ments for those in progress. This time, though, he'd been plagued by unwanted images, memories that had propelled him into an exhausting inner battle. Every few moments he was drawn to remember the past, to walk through it and touch it and savor life the way it had been. But just as quickly would come his determination to keep such thoughts at bay. He was a survivor, not a sentimentalist. He refused to live in yesterday's time zone.

If that wasn't enough, he was burdened by the uncomfortable feeling that his life's work was somehow flawed. His opponents were defenseless types, such as the New York schoolteacher or pastors or youth group leaders. Was there really victory in win-ning cases against such people? People who certainly had never intended to cause harm? Shouldn't he have been using his legal talent to rid the streets of real criminals?

Of course, anyone who encouraged public expression of reli-gion was a criminal in Jordan's mind. But still the feeling remained.

In the end he blamed his confusing thoughts on overwork and a lack of sleep. When he reached the hotel, he put away his things, brushed his teeth, and dropped into bed, where he immediately fell asleep.

When he awoke Monday he fairly sprang out of bed, show-ered, shaved, and had a cup of coffee two hours before he
needed to be up. He had three very special visits to make. How they went would determine his final decision about filing suit against Bethany. His boss would agree with him either way. If Jordan called and said he'd changed his mind, that the statue was not as offensive as he remembered it to be, Hawkins would never mention it again.

Fifteen minutes later, he drove up in front of the Bethany courthouse and found a parking space. As he made his way up the steps, Jordan caught his reflection in the mirror. He prided himself on looking nice and today was no exception. A professional wardrobe should make a statement and his consisted of Armani suits, starched buttoned-downs, and soft leather dress shoes.

He cursed himself for not driving to Bethany and doing this sooner. Five years sooner. Back when the clerks at the courthouse had first refused to find his sister's file. He'd made more than twenty calls in the months and years since then, but always the answer was the same: “The records are sealed, sir. No one can get that information.”

Jordan's heart beat hard in anticipation. He'd learned a few tricks since 1995. The only way past the fortress of red tape was to show up in person. He walked up to a counter labeled Records and waited his turn. Would this be it? In the next few minutes would he actually find out where they'd sent his sister?

“Next.” A stout woman barked the word and cast an impatient glance at Jordan. He clutched his briefcase to his side as he moved up against the counter and smiled at the woman. Her name tag read Olivia.

Often women were moved to do what Jordan wanted simply because of his looks. Olivia scowled at him, waiting for him to speak. Somehow he feared this was not one of those times. “Hi. I'm an attorney working on a local case.” He smiled as though
that were all the explanation he needed to provide. “I need to check out a file.”

She scrutinized him, her face a twist of wrinkles and bad atti-tude. “You new around here?”

Jordan tried to look unaffected by her frigid tone. “Actually, I'm from New York. One of your citizens in Bethany asked me to consult on a matter. Can I give you the file name?”

Olivia shifted her weight, her lips a single line of distrust. “What local citizen?”

There was a beat while Jordan's mind raced for an answer. “He asked me not to mention his name. The lawsuit is highly confidential.”

“You got ID?”

Jordan pulled out his wallet and flashed her several pieces, including his Bar Association membership card. Finally he tossed her a business card. Jordan Riley, attorney at law
Come on, lady, what d'ya want?
When he could think of nothing else to hand her, he smiled again and waited.

Olivia released a heavy sigh. “All right, what file do you need?”

Did all the clerks at the courthouse have Olivia's charming demeanor or was he just lucky? He cleared his throat.” It's a Social Services file. Mother died, two kids were sent to different foster homes. Should be two files, actually. I need the one under the daughter's name—Heidi Riley. No relation.”

He hadn't spoken his sister's name for years. The pounding of his heart was so loud within him he figured everyone in the room could easily hear it. He watched Olivia write down the information and waited for her to turn around and head into the archives room for the file.