The Veritas Conflict (34 page)

It’s only going to be that one part. If everyone else has a copy of the whole test, I’m actually doing pretty well to only look at that one section
.

At the whispering sound of turning pages, Gael came over and put his hand on Caliel’s shoulder. “Courage, friend.”

“We prayed; the saints prayed. The Logos says ‘Lead me not into temptation.’ And she
wasn’t…
She was even steered away. But she chose temptation anyway. All on her own!” Caliel’s eyes burned. “How can they do that! I do not understand it no matter how many times I see it. How can they look square in the face of the King of kings and thumb their nose?”

Gael stood beside Caliel, watching the young woman copy line after line into her notebook. The room was quiet except for the scratching of her pen.

“He cannot let her unwise choices stand unchallenged,” Caliel said. “He is a loving Father. And whom the Lord loves, He also disciplines. He will bring His discipline, either soon or years down the road. But it will come.”

Caliel paused as he heard the voice of the Lord. He listened for a moment, his gaze tender on his charge. “Her heart must remain soft to receive it. I will continue pricking her conscience. She must not let it become seared. Must not allow herself to choose this constant, wayward action. Because when the Lord delivers a child from a seared conscience.…”

Gael watched his colleague’s silent, ageless struggle. “But if a hand sins, it is better to cut it off and throw it into the fire than lose the whole body to the fires of hell.” He clasped Caliel’s arm in respect. “I pray that need not happen. But it is far better than the alternative, my friend.”

“The Lord knows every instant of her struggle, every thought, every choice. And He loves this one so much. I pray that she will see His outstretched hand.”

THIRTY-TWO

S
HERRY PUT DOWN HER NUMBER TWO PENCIL
and closed her test booklet. Five minutes early. She got to her feet and walked the booklet up to the proctor at the front of the room. The woman hardly looked up as Sherry handed it over.

The buildings were a blur as Sherry hurried back to her dorm. The proctor would be calling time right about now. Why did she have this insane urge to go back and rip up her test and spill out her crime? Everyone did it. It was the most public secret on record.

She took the stairs two at a time and fled into her room, wondering if there was anywhere she could hide from this urge to confess. Her mouth was dry. She jerked open the small refrigerator, looking for a soft drink, and saw the untouched cheesecake Claire had brought her last night while she was out with Mercedes.

Sherry slammed the refrigerator shut and whirled around, trying to escape the terrible weight in her mind. Her eye fell on Claire’s Bible, open on her bed.

This must be one of those demonic attacks that preacher was talking about
!

Claire found Sherry sitting in front of her computer, staring at the screen.

“Hey.” Claire dumped her backpack on her bed and her mail on her desk, and went over to Sherry’s desk. “What’s up? Don’t you usually have class now?”

“Skipped it. I needed to take a nap.”

“Not surprising. You must’ve been up all night. I could use a nap myself, but I have philosophy class in half an hour. Some hot-shot guest lecturer whose writings are really bizarre.”

When Sherry didn’t smile or respond, Claire walked back toward her desk. “How’d the accounting test go?”

“Fine”.

“Just fine? After all that—”

“It was fine, okay?” Sherry stood up and climbed the stairs to her loft bed. She lay down with a sigh, facing the wall.

Claire stood across the room, staring up at her roommate. She forced the words out of her mouth. “Sherry, I’m sorry to bug you, but I have to ask …”

Sherry didn’t turn, didn’t respond.

“Sherry, you awake?”

“Yep.”

“You know what I’m asking, darn it. Just tell me!”

“Fine. I used the old test. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I thought you said you didn’t copy Stefan’s test.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, where’d you get it?”

“None of your business.”

“Sherry—”

Sherry rolled over and sat up, staring down at Claire with angry eyes. “Look, Miss High and Mighty, I’ve got two papers due tomorrow and a test next week. I haven’t slept more than four hours in the last four days. I’m exhausted,” her voice choked, “and I’ve got enough other attacks going on without
you
condemning me.” Tears started leaking from her eyes, and she flopped back down on her bed.

Help, Lord.…

Claire stepped up on her bed and grasped the side of the loft. “Sherry, I have too many logs in my own eye to be judgmental about yours. The only reason I’m asking about this is that I care about you. God’s rules aren’t there to oppress you; they’re there because He knows what’s best for you and the consequences that breaking those rules will have for you down the road.” She paused, considering. “What do you mean when you say other attacks are going on?”

“I don’t know, Claire, okay? I just feel …” She sighed and sat up again. “I just feel … not right, you know? Like someone’s hammering on my brain. I’m going crazy with the pressure. It’s like that Bible verse about the devil prowling around and trying to discourage you, like you said.”

“When did this start?”

“During accounting.” She made an explosive sound of frustration. “I mean, the stupid test was—”

“Sherry, I really don’t think you’re under demonic attack. I think this pressure in your head is your conscience, not the devil. It’s God’s way of trying to get through to you before—”

“Hey, I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t.” She descended the stairs from her loft. “What’s really right or wrong here, anyway? If everyone does it, is it really wrong? Wouldn’t I be more wrong to be the only one
not
doing it?” She walked back over to her desk and sat sideways in her chair, not looking at Claire.

“Come on, you don’t believe that! First of all it’s ridiculous to believe that everyone
does it. But more importantly, if it’s cheating it’s still not right!”

“Look, Claire, maybe what’s right for you isn’t right for me. We all have to walk our own paths.” She swung around toward Claire and thumped her chest. “Maybe it’s time to do what’s right for me for a change!”

Prach sighed in delight. He looked over at Caliel and Gael, their swords out but impotent in the face of yet another human choice. Ah, just as in the days of old, just as in the master stratagem of the Garden, the model of all his work. He snickered, flaunting his success.

These sickening humans were so easy to influence. This one had made her choice, and he would seal it soon. Now if only he could get his hands on the other one.… He looked hungrily at Claire, watching her pleading face, and shook his head. The Spirit of the accursed Enemy was strong on her and was growing stronger every day. He itched to work on his charge with no interference.

Claire finally grabbed her backpack and headed for her philosophy class. Prach smiled. Maybe his colleagues there would have better luck at confusing and intimidating her. He returned his attention to the dark-haired one, rubbing his hands together, anticipating his next move.

“So in his landmark book
Rocks of Ages
, how does Gould define religion?” Author and guest instructor Leyla Lemoine barely glanced out at the watching students. “He defines religion by
contrasting it to science.
”

Claire doodled in the margins of her notepad, her face tight, half her mind still on the argument in her room. She wasn’t in the mood for this class today. Professor Kwong had told them to expect a luminary in the world of current philosophical thinking; he hadn’t told them to expect a New Age diatribe.

“This is similar,” the guest speaker was saying, “to my own little philosophical construct as outlined in my recent writing—I believe you have a copy of my most-published article in your materials. We can know religious beliefs only through faith. All else we learn through scientific analysis.”

She paced the floor, walking like a cat on her toes. “Stephen Gould explains that science and religion are in conflict, because each claims to have knowledge of the world but each tells a very different story. The Bible says the world was created in seven days; physicists tell us that the universe burst into existence fifteen billion years ago and has continued to expand ever since.”

She paused and held out her hands, palms up, as if they were two balances of a
scale. “The Bible,” she lifted her right hand, “tells us that God specially created humans in His image, and then created animals, which—religion tells us—we must accept purely on faith. But scientists,” she held up her other hand, “have proven through empirical evidence that life evolved slowly in a long process and that the appearance of humans was essentially due to chance.”

Claire set down her pen and crossed her arms, frustration showing all over her face.

“As Gould points out, science and religion ask very different questions in the process of knowledge, with very different methods for answering those questions.” The instructor balanced her hands back and forth. “Where science questions ‘how the heavens go’—how does the physical world operate in a predictable and understandable fashion—religion asks ‘how to go to heaven.” Where science calls upon evidence and reason to answer its question, religion calls upon faith, tradition, and religious authorities to answer its question.”

Her smile was rueful, and she shook her head. “Ah, religion. But then, I suppose some people still believe in God, or we wouldn’t be bothering to discuss it, right?”

Claire’s face grew red. She glanced across the room to Brad. He was sitting calmly, taking notes.

The instructor crossed to the whiteboard at the front of the room and drew two columns, one labeled Science the other Religion. In each she quickly wrote a few words summarizing the points made so far.

“We also see that science and religion have very different standards for deciding which answers are the correct ones. Science asks if the theory makes empirical predictions that can be independently verified. Religion asks if your belief or claim contradicts Scripture, religious authority, or tradition.”

She turned back to the class. “As Gould points out, there is even an example of this tension in the Bible itself in the parable of Doubting Thomas. Several days after Jesus’ public execution Thomas was told by the followers of Jesus that He had risen from the dead and appeared to them in person. Thomas said, understandably, that he would not believe them until he had
seen
and
touched
Jesus and His wounds.”

Ms. Lemoine gestured with her marker to the Science column on the board. “Thomas, in other words, was being a scientist, asking for empirical evidence of a claim. But then, the story says, Jesus showed up and rebuked him for his doubt. Why was that?”

The instructor paused, looking out at the students. “Thomas had asked the correct questions, tried to use the proper methods of inquiry, and applied the appropriate standards for searching for the truth,
if—
” she held her finger up dramatically—”if he were doing science. But, as Gould points out, his methods were inappropriate for religion. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why Jesus rebuked him!”

Claire’s mouth dropped open.
That’s ridiculous … that … that …
Her mind wouldn’t work.

“We can see from these few examples,” the instructor continued, “that science and religion cannot be synthesized. Of course, religion has it’s place in life, offering rules for how to live and such things. But science and religion posit wildly incompatible routes to knowledge and truth. As such, I take Gould’s comments one step further. They inevitably contradict each other, and they cannot both be true.”

Claire watched, dumbfounded, as the guest speaker took questions from the audience. No one else seemed to object to her theory. Claire felt as though all the water chutes in a dam had been opened at once, and all the water was thundering downstream, blowing away every obstacle in it’s path. She had no idea how to jump in without getting herself killed.

“… well, then that would be something to consider further. But like I said, since they contradict each other, science and religion cannot both be true.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw Brad raise his hand.

“If that is the case,” Brad said, “then what is true, Ms. Lemoine? You say they cannot both be true—but if there
is
no God who created a specific, objective, moral order of absolutes, then there is no such thing as true, and you cannot make that statement. Furthermore, if there is no true, both of Gould’s seemingly incompatible definitions of science and religion might make perfect sense together.”

The guest instructor had folded her arms after the first few words and stood behind the podium, looking at the young upstart.

“It’s a figure of speech, young man, a necessary terminology we must employ even though there obviously
is
no such thing as absolute truth in—”

“And I hate to point this out,” Brad’s voice was apologetic, “but the whole religion-versus-science question is … well, it’s sort of a silly one to begin with. I mean no disrespect to you or Mr. Gould. It’s an honor to have an author of your stature in our class, and I do appreciate your willingness to instruct us. But I think I should point out the straw man that seems to have been set up at the beginning of this discussion.”

“What straw man?”

“From the very beginning, Gould defines religion as the opposite of science. That’s a straw man—a construct designed to be shaky from the beginning and therefore easily torn down. He sets science versus religion as if they have to be incompatible, which they don’t. It’s ridiculous to say—” he gestured to the columns on the whiteboard—“that science depends on reason, but religion depends only on simple-minded faith, as if religion didn’t also depend on reason and intellectual knowledge as well.”