The Veritas Conflict (41 page)

“So ask yourself these questions. When you encounter trouble, how do you react? When you are opposed, do you slink back to your secret bunker and hide? Or do you stand firm in the job
your
King has entrusted to you in this dark place, knowing that’ at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up’?”

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking of all the slinking and hiding she’d done since arriving at Harvard.

The pastor flipped back to 1 Peter 2. “ ‘I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day He visits us.’ “His eyes were penetrating as he searched the pews. “Ask yourself again: When you’re tempted, how do you react? Do you give in to the ways of the kingdom you have infiltrated?”

Ouch
. Claire’s mind flitted to the fake IDs.

“Or do you so thoroughly shine God’s radiance, purity, and love that the kingdom you have infiltrated is turned to
His
ways? And how often do you stay in touch with the King who is your real commander in chief? Do you get His direction every morning, or are you out there in dangerous territory on your own, ignoring His urgent signals?”

Claire had kept her promise to the Lord that morning, but how many days had been wasted by her lack of prayerfulness? She gripped the Bible in her lap tighter.
I promise Lord
.

“How do you react when you’re busy with your daily life and come across someone’s urgent, now-or-never sort of need? Do you tell the oppressed prisoner of the dark world that you’re busy now but you’ll come back to your underground espionage job at two o’clock next Tuesday? Or do you prayerfully rearrange your daily life to fit the calling of your
true
job? I have news for you, dear saints.” He leaned forward on the podium. “Ministry is
always inconvenient.”

Claire heard soft grunts of acknowledgment all around her. The pastor again stepped out from behind the podium and walked to the edge of the platform, holding the open Bible in his hand.

“And finally, how do you react when trouble comes? When something terrible happens that you don’t understand? Do you shake your fist at your King and yell ‘Why?’ Or do you love and trust your King with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength and remember what He said when you took the job: “In
this world
you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.’ ”

The pastor slowly closed his Bible and gazed out the back windows that shone in the morning sun. His voice was soft. “When my time as an underground espionage agent in this dark world is over and I finally get to go home, I want nothing more than to hear my King say, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter into the joy of your Lord.’ ”

Claire walked out of the church and onto the sidewalk, hands deep in her pockets, her bright blue scarf a fluffy barrier against the cold.

She thought of the week ahead as she headed for the entrance to the T. She had so much homework to read for philosophy, some really oppressive humanist stuff she’d started before but hadn’t had the heart to finish.

Lord, if You want me to be an espionage agent that will stand and fight for Your Kingdom, please help me learn how. Because right now that bunker is looking pretty darned good
.

THIRTY-NINE

“M
IND IF
I
JOIN YOU
?”

Claire looked up from her book, startled, the clatter and hum of the Greenhouse Café impinging again on her consciousness. Ian Burke was standing next to her table, holding a tray and looking at her curiously. Had he asked that question twice?

“I’m sorry!” Claire moved her backpack and lunch plate out of the way. “I was just…“ She gestured at her novel before closing it and moving it aside.

“I don’t want to interrupt anything.” Ian had an amused glint in his eye. “Are you sure …?

“Oh no! I mean … yes … I mean …” She made a comical face. “You’d think now that I’m at Harvard, I’d learn how to talk. You’re not interrupting, and please join me.”

Ian slid into the seat. “What are you reading?”

“Just something silly.”

“What? Now I’m curious.”

Claire hesitated, then held out the book. “It was my grandmother’s. It’s not as old as the Grindley House books, but I still love this old hardcover edition. The new paperback version just doesn’t … have as much character, or something.”

Ian tipped the book sideways, squinting at the faded typeface on the spine.
“Pollyanna
. Hm. I’ve never read it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Ian handed the book back. He bowed his head briefly, then began digging in to his food. “I’m a pretty imaginative person, and lots of people have accused me of being Pollyanna-ish because I’m too pie-in-the-sky with things sometimes. But I’ve never read the book. Why?”

“Well … its a classic. And one every Christian should read, I think.”

“Really? How so?”

“Because you—” Claire caught herself and looked across the table, trying to maintain a professional reserve. She had almost started addressing him like one of her peers instead of her TA and supervisor. “Well, partly because of the misperception of what
Pollyanna-ish
means. See, the reason that word tends to have a negative connotation—in the world’s eyes—is that the character of Pollyanna is trying to literally do what the Bible says: to rejoice and be glad in all things.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ian’s lips part in surprise. “In the book,” she continued, “Pollyanna’s father was a pastor who taught her to always be glad, and the entire book is about how this glad little girl impacted her world simply by doing what God says to do.”

“I had no idea.” Ian looked impressed. “I’ll have to read that sometime.”

“It’s just a children’s book, but it’s so uplifting that I have to read it from time to time to remind myself how to act when confronted with things that are hard to be glad about. Like the stupid philosophy class that I have at two!”

“What’s wrong with your class?”

“It’s hard to explain.” She sighed, the lightness in her spirit vanishing. “I just feel like every time I walk into that class my brain is going to be tied in knots. I feel like I’m getting steamrolled, like I have no idea how to defend what I believe—or even to think through what others believe—in time to defend my position. Sometimes I even find myself second-guessing what I know is true!” She made a face. “I guess I’m not making much sense.”

“No, you’re making perfect sense. Would you mind a few comments?”

“Please.”

“You’re talking about Kwong’s class, right? I had it when I was a sophomore. And believe me, I understand completely.
Any
philosophy class can tie anyone’s brain in knots, until you learn how to stand on your feet—” a grin flashed across his face—“and even after, sometimes!”

Claire shook her head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I just don’t know if I’m up to it. You know, intellectually. There’s this other Christian guy in the class—Brad—and he always seems to have these great arguments during class discussion, like he’s able to keep up with the debate. I just don’t know if I can—”

“Don’t say it.” Ian leaned forward. “That’s the big lie. Think about it: Would you be feeling just as dumb if you shared the secular viewpoint of most of the philosophers and other students? Of course not! Everything you said and thought would fit just perfectly into the flow of what you were hearing all around you, and you’d probably feel much more at ease. Instead,” he rapped sharply on the table, “you have to
work
. You have to
think
. I’m afraid that some students are able to coast along, without ever learning how to truly analyze dissenting opinions and evidence, because it’s never presented to them. There’s a lot of stuff that’s not politically correct, so it’s simply never included. Alternatively, of course, as you’ve no doubt seen, it’s simply bashed down without a true debate whenever it dares to rear its head.”

“Yeah. I’ve seen the bashing part.”

Ian laughed aloud. “Honestly, Claire, in terms of your development as a student, this may be the best possible thing for you. As a TA, I see it all the time—where a very
smart person is just intellectually lazy because he or she has been confronted with only agreeable opinions. You’re going to have to learn how to truly analyze things where other students may be able to coast.” He gestured toward
Pollyanna
in her backpack. “That’s something you can be glad about, isn’t it?”

Claire’s voice was thoughtful. “I guess … But, well, let me ask you this. Our class today is on something called situation ethics’ and—”

“Ah, the old name for moral relativism. You’re in for some fun today. Go on.”

“Just what I need. More fun. Anyway, we had to read pieces of the
Humanist Manifesto
and a few other articles, and it’s just so … 
ick
. “She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even know how to describe it. There is no God.’ ‘There’s no such thing as absolute right or wrong.’ ‘All ethics are made only by man, for men.’ ‘Everyone must decide their own standard of behavior.’ Do you know how much material there is on this? it’s like four inches thick! I don’t even know where to
start
defending what I believe.”

“Well, at least you haven’t given up.” Ian drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. “Okay. Let me tell you four things I do when I’m in debates like that. Number one, get analytical. Ask yourself,
What are the assumptions here?
Figuring out the unspoken assumptions behind the worldview can make or break your debate.

“Usually when a professor or a student says something or asks a question, there are two parts to the statement: an assumption and the question itself.” He leaned forward, jabbing his finger against the table for emphasis. “Don’t answer the question before you figure out what the assumption is! For example, if someone says, ‘Well, that’s right for you, but not right for me,’ then the unspoken premise is that there is no absolute truth. And if there is no absolute truth, then anything goes. Why can’t I take a hammer and bash them over the head? Hey!” Ian sat taller in his seat, puffing out his chest and slapping his hand to his breastbone. “It was right for me!”

He shook his finger at her. “Very few people, by the way, will agree with you when you make that argument. Most people who think they’re relativists really aren’t. They just want the freedom to do what they want to do without guilt, but they don’t want anyone else—enjoying their own guiltless freedom—to bash them over the head with a hammer.”

Claire laughed. “Okay. What’s number two?”

“Number two is the follow-up. If number one is
uncover assumptions
, number two is
question assumptions
. You have to work backwards to show them the logical conclusion of whatever it is they’re saying. Wherever possible, try to catch intellectual inconsistencies. If someone says, ‘There are no absolutes; everything is relative,’ one fun tactic is to then ask, ‘Are you sure?’ ” He chuckled as comprehension dawned on Claire’s face, remembering Brad’s classroom debate with Leyla Lemoine. “Of course, if they are
sure
about something, that itself is an absolute, isn’t it?”

Ian waved his hand. “But that’s just a simple example, and that will resolve very few discussions. So you’ll want to first get their permission to ask questions about their statement. That will set a much better tone for the discussion, believe me!

“So, suppose you’ve got this perfectly sincere friend who says there are no absolutes. Now that you have his permission, you can ask him, ‘Do you believe there is a God who created the universe?’ If he says, ‘Oh, I believe in God,’ then he is being intellectually inconsistent—since most people would argue that if there is a creator God, He has created moral absolutes.

“But if he says, “That’s right; there is no God like that,’ then he’s at least being consistent, and the next logical step is to say, “Okay then, so you believe we humans just appeared by random chance.’ They’ll probably agree. Then the last step is to say, ‘So you believe we’re just cosmic garbage, a collection of chemicals with no ultimate meaning in life.”

“That’s an example of a very effective strategy: Find a logical but ridiculously extreme conclusion of what they’re saying, and that will point out the absurdity of the initial assumption. Most people, frankly, haven’t given it that much thought. And like I said, very few people are comfortable agreeing that they have no ultimate meaning or purpose, that they’re merely a collection of chemicals. Now some hard-core secular humanists will actually agree with that, believe it or not! They say we have no free will, no spirit beyond what we can see, no
soul
, since none of those things can be scientifically seen and measured.”

“They say we have no soul? No meaning in life?” Claire shuddered. “How awful. You’d think those people would see little point in living.”

“Actually, some atheists have taken their own lives for that very reason.”

“its so sad!” Claire exclaimed. “Why do some people fight so hard against believing in God? You’d think people would want to believe in someone who lovingly created them, someone who gives their life meaning and purpose.”

“I know.” Ian shrugged. “People try so hard to create these—these
intellectual constructs
, when the truth is so much easier. I don’t get it. The only thing I can think is that people don’t want to face the fact that believing in God comes with believing that He has a way for them to live, and they’d prefer to do their own thing.”

Claire’s thoughts flitted to Sherry.

Ian was smiling slightly. “Mansfield showed me this quote from Aldous Huxley, the author of
Brave New World
, He was an agnostic and wrote something like—and I’m paraphrasing here—’I was an unbeliever, not because I could find a way to discredit Christianity, but because I wanted to sleep with my girlfriend.’ ” Ian raised his glass in a toast. “At least the man was honest!”