The Veritas Conflict (40 page)

Mansfield raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I imagine that plenty of people would think it foolish.”

Claire grinned as she handed over a photocopied page from Sherry’s notebook. “That’s perfect then.”

Mansfield rapidly scanned the notes, his eyes widening. He smacked his hand flat against the tabletop and let out a whoop, then handed the page to Ian, who was protesting his ignorance. “Widener Library!”

A few people at nearby tables looked in their direction. He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “I’d forgotten all about that. They were so careful to adhere to every letter of an old-fashioned grant stipulation that they knocked out a window just so they could say that ‘not a brick changed’!” He clasped his hands, his voice dropping suddenly. “O Lord, thank You for Your goodness.”

None of them could speak for a moment. Claire’s eyes tingled as she fought back emotion.
Thank You, Father. Thank You for letting me be apart of this
.

“Time to pray.” In the great room, every head bowed. Several of the HCF members slid off the hard classroom chairs and to their knees. Every thought, every prayer was focused on the King of kings and Lord of lords, asking for His help and blessing on Professor William Mansfield and the long-awaited efforts of the coming week And as children of the King, they were immediately ushered into the throne room.

Hundreds of angels stood silent, worshiping. Amidst the furor of the daily battle for the lives and souls on campus, the holy hush of this place was like a balm. They could feel the Lord’s Spirit among them, feel His overwhelming love and delight in these precious children.

Somewhere amid the sea of bowed heads, a lone male voice began to sing.
We are standing on holy ground
. Harmonies sprang out as other students joined in.
And I know
that there are angels all around
. The heavenly host lifted their hands in praise, their resonant voices carrying through eternity.
Let us praise Jesus now. We are standing in His presence on holy ground
.

A deep hush overtook them. As the children of God began to pray aloud, one person here, another there, the Son of Man appeared among them. And, as so many times before, the One they loved and served with full devotion laid His hands on each bowed head, interceding for them before the throne of grace.

And so the week of prayer and fasting began, not by human might or power, but by the Spirit of God.

THIRTY-EIGHT

November

S
HERRY SLIPPED OUT OF
D
UNSTER
H
OUSE
, catching the heavy door before it closed loudly behind her. The early morning air was cold and the courtyard quiet, the only sound the splashing of crews on the Charles. She paused in the entryway and watched the river’s misty surface through Dunster’s tall iron gates. Two shells were sculling by, their coxswains calling a steady beat.

As soon as they passed, she moved quickly toward the exit at the other end of the courtyard, yawning. No sane person would get up this early. Unless they were doing the “walk of shame,” of course.

As she stepped through the arch of the G entryway, the street in sight, Sherry heard quick steps on the other side of the door. For a second she panicked, then she straightened and kept walking. No way would it be someone she knew.

The door opened with a squeak, and another young woman hurried out, wrapped in an oversized sweater and sweat pants, gloves in her hand. Their eyes met.

Her face flushed slightly. “Hey.” She pulled on her gloves, heading for the exit.

Sherry looked down. “How’s it going?”

They stepped out through the arch and went in separate directions. The other girl turned right toward the bicycle racks between Dunster and Mather House next door. Sherry hurried up DeWolfe Street toward Massachusetts Avenue and Harvard Yard. It was still early enough that Claire wouldn’t be up.

Claire woke slowly, stretching in her bed. She heard creaks from the loft above her, and knew Sherry was awake. She spoke on a yawn. “Aren’t Saturdays the best?”

“You said it. What time is it?”

“Almost eleven.”

“Man.” It was Sherry’s turn to yawn. “I zonked out after—” There was a sudden pause and then another yawn. “I haven’t slept that sound in ages.”

“What time did you get home?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“It must have been pretty late. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Mmm.” Sherry climbed down from the loft. “So what are you doing today?”

Claire forced herself to sit up. “A bunch of folks from HCF—Brad, Alison, Doug, and whoever—are going into Boston for lunch. The guys want to check out some sports superstore that just opened down by the ball field.” She rolled her eyes. “The girls decided to ditch them and wander down Newbury Street instead.”

“Really?”

“Have you been there yet?”

“No, but I’ve been dying to go. Someone told me it’s the best place to shop.”

“That’s what I heard. Not that I have the money to actually
buy
anything.”

Claire watched as Sherry went to her computer. There were probably already three e-mails from Stefan or his friends, when they’d just seen each other last night.

She made a face. Yesterday Sherry had already made plans with Stefan’s gang and again hadn’t come to HCF. She hadn’t joined them at the restaurant, as she had said she might “if she could get away.” She hadn’t come over to play pool at Alison’s place afterward. Claire had been one of the last ones to leave, vainly hoping that Sherry might still show up. And who knows what time she got home.

She jumped out of bed and went over to Sherry’s desk. “Hey, why don’t you come to Newbury Street with us?”

Sherry turned her head slightly, her eyes still on the computer screen. “I don’t know.…”

“Look, we’re probably leaving around noon. We’ll take the T and find someplace for lunch, and then just wander. What do you say?”

“Maybe some other time. Mercedes and some of the others asked me to go play volleyball with the dorm team, so I’ll probably do that.”

“Well, what about church tomorrow? Remember that church down by MIT that I told you about last week? I really liked it.”

Sherry stood up and tapped the keyboard, closing the e-mail program. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Sherry brushed past her. “Well, you don’t have to get all snippy about it. I just don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow, that’s all.”

“Should it matter how you feel? Shouldn’t you try to make church a habit, so you’ll go even when you don’t feel like it? Or if you don’t go to church, shouldn’t you at least go to the HCF meetings so that you get plugged into the Christian community and make friends who will encourage you and help you grow in God?”

Sherry opened her closet, reaching for her shower caddy. “Look, I know I should, but something always gets in the way, and—”

“Only if you let it! Don’t you think there are some mornings when I don’t want to go to church? But I know I need to. Like I need to go to HCF. And once I do that, suddenly I find that I
want
to be there.”

“Well, that’s the difference between us, then. I just don’t
want
to be there, I guess.” She turned toward Claire, facing her roommate for the first time. “I’m just not like you.”

“But we agreed to keep each other accountable. You said you’d—”

“It just seems kind of silly now. I—” She turned back to her closet, reaching for her robe.

“Sherry.”

“Yes.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

“What do you mean?” She went to her dresser and began searching a drawer for clean clothes.

Claire sank down to her bed. “You know. The accountability thing, to live a Christian lifestyle. Have you and Stefan …?”

“Nothing’s happening, Claire.”

“Why … uh … why were you so late?”

A pause. “One of Stefan’s friends—do you remember Niles from the other night? Well, he was having a really tough time with his girlfriend. She broke up with him and he needed girl advice. He was a mess. So I spent half the night talking with him.”

“Well that was nice of you. And I’m glad you’re sticking to your guns with Stefan.”

“Yeah.” Sherry turned, clothes draped over her arm. She smiled slightly and headed for the door. “Well, I’m going to get a shower. If Mercedes asks, tell her I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

The door swung shut behind her. Claire stared at it for a minute before rising and getting her own shower things ready. She worked slowly, turning over the conversation in her mind. At least Sherry hadn’t slept with him. That was something.

Where had she put her towel? She searched the room with her eyes. Her gaze stopped by her bed, where her Bible and journal were peeking out from under the dust ruffle. She walked over and pulled them out. Then she looked at the clock.

She hesitated just a moment, then set the shower stuff down and climbed back into bed, plumping up the pillows behind her. She opened the Bible to Philippians, where she had left off days ago.

How many days has it been?
Her mind turned backward to the day of that stupid guest instructor in philosophy. Alison had heard her and Brad talking about it at dinner.

“I can solve your angst for you,” Alison had said. “Read Philippians and think of how Paul could write about rejoicing in a filthy prison. He was persecuted and tortured
and imprisoned for his faith. We’re only laughed at. What a deal!”

Brad had held up his hand. “And remember that often people who are derisive have a totally wrong impression of what Christianity is, and have never heard a good presentation of the gospel. Once someone gets to know you and hears your heart, that usually changes things.”

Claire opened back to where the shiny maroon ribbon lay between the pages. Her eye fell on a familiar passage in Philippians 2.

Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life.

She opened her journal and began to write.
Lord, forgive me for so totally ignoring You. I want to shine like stars in the midst of this crooked and depraved place…

The words filled page after page as she came before her Father.
This isn’t hard, Lord! Why don’t I do this more often?

An image of her berating Sherry just minutes before rose before her mind’s eye.
Shouldn’t you try to make church a habit so that you’ll go even when you don’t feel like it?… And once I do, suddenly I find that I want to be there.…

Claire groaned and fell face forward into her comforter.
I’m such an idiot. Lord, how do You put up with me? Thank You that You are greater than my weakness!

She heard footsteps coming toward the door, and she bowed her head, her voice a whisper. “Lord, I promise You: I will lift my eyes to the hills
every morning
, whether I feel like it or not.”

She jumped out of bed as Sherry came in, her head wrapped in a towel. She felt oddly jubilant as she made the bed and got ready to meet her friends. One thing she knew: she had made a promise to God, and she’d better not break it.

“So why is it that we expect to have it easy in this life?” The young pastor stood near the altar, his Bible open in his hand. “Peter says we are aliens and strangers in this world.”

Claire sat in the last pew, her coat folded on the empty space beside her. She hated coming in late and was doubly irritated at having waited in vain for Sherry to come home. She should have known her roommate would stand her up.

Sherry insisted that nothing was going on with Stefan, but it was
not
a good idea to keep putting herself in these positions, no matter how many of Stefan’s wayward friends needed a shoulder to cry on or advice on relationships.

“Our perspective is all wrong.” The pastor had stepped to the podium. He took a quick sip of the water tucked behind it. “We have to realize that this world is not our home. We are made for a completely different place.”

He set his Bible down and moved out from behind the podium, searching the congregation with earnest eyes. “The analogy Peter uses is this: We are underground espionage agents working and living out our daily lives in hostile territory. We work for a completely different government than the one we’re living under! Not only that, but we are under specific orders to infiltrate the place were living and turn the allegiance of it’s citizens toward another kingdom!”

Claire sat up straighten.
That’s good…

He held up a warning hand. “Nobody misunderstand me: I am
not
talking about an earthly government. In the very next verses, Peter clarifies that we are supposed to honor and pray for our earthly government leaders, no matter what our political differences. No—I’m talking about one of two spiritual governments: the one that governs the realm of light that we were made for and the one that governs the realm of darkness that we currently live in. Obviously, our God is more powerful than all the forces of the enemy, but long ago in the Garden we made our choice as to which realm our earthly bodies would live in.”

Claire opened up her journal and began taking notes.

“Should it surprise us when we encounter roadblocks? Of course not! Did the good-hearted citizens with the resistance in Nazi Germany expect their lives to be nice and easy? Of course not! They expected heartache and trouble. They even expected casualties.”

The young pastor picked up his Bible again and held it up. “This Book clearly tells us that the world we are living in is not our home. There will be times when the evil one—the prince of this world—sends his agents to attack and demoralize us. There will even be times when the evil one takes out one of our fellow espionage agents. We mourn, of course, but we
shouldn’t be surprised
. Instead, we should redouble our efforts with the espionage tools we’ve been given: love, prayer, the Word of God, service, truth, hope, faith, gentleness, kindness, self-control.