CHAPTER 3

          Helen snuggled a thick knit cap down over Hannah’s ears and pulled up the hood of her bright pink ski jacket.  “Be good for your dad and let him know if you’re getting tired or if you start getting another headache.”

          “Okay Grandma,” Hannah mumbled, her face tucked into Helen’s chest as she offered a customary hug goodbye.  “Love you,” she hollered back as an afterthought, already running toward Jack. 

          Jack nodded and waved to Helen before he and Hannah started off down the path.  Hannah was already chatting about skis and snow and deer and bunnies.

          “I love you too, honey,” Helen whispered since Hannah was too far away to hear her anyway.  Tears welled in her eyes, but Helen blinked and looked up at the blue sky, letting the gentle breeze dry them before they fell.

          She decided to go for a little walk herself.  Helen loved taking walks.  Not the power walks that so many people seemed to prefer these days.  Her walks weren’t aerobic exercise, nor were they meant to be.  She just liked meandering about outside.  Nikki would think she was crazy, but Helen used those moments sometimes to talk to God.  Once in a while, she even imagined Him talking back – not out loud, of course, but in her heart.

          Just as she was picking her way through a little drift of snow, Helen noticed Jack’s friend coming the other way.

          “Good afternoon,” she called to him.  He was about to turn off onto a different path, but turned back.  “Jess, isn’t it?” she asked.

          “Yes,” he said, coming over her way.  He offered his hand to help her step over the snow.  “It is a good afternoon, isn’t it?”

          Helen thought about it and decided to agree.  Hannah was still here with them.  There would be plenty of time for sad thoughts later.  Taking a deep breath, she nodded.  “It is.  Where are you headed?”

          “No where in particular,” he answered.  “I enjoy being outside.”

          “Me too.  I was just going for a little walk.  Would you care to join me?”  As soon as she said it, Helen realized that taking a walk with an old lady was probably the last thing the young man wanted to do.

          “I would love to,” Jess replied before Helen had time to apologize for asking.

          “Are you sure?  I didn’t mean to intrude,” she apologized anyway.

          “Walking with you is definitely not an intrusion, Helen,” he assured her.  Jess offered his arm since the sidewalk was still snow covered and slick in spots.

           It was impressive enough that Jack’s friend had remembered her name after such a brief introduction earlier, but his offer to escort her like a gentlemen of old made her feel special.  No wonder Hannah had been so taken with him.

          For several minutes the two strolled in companionable silence, enjoying the sun, the snow, and the bustling activity around them.  When they veered off to a quieter park area, Jess headed them toward a heavy wooden bench.  On a small brass plaque placed on the back of it was engraved a dedication from a man to his deceased wife. 

          “‘To Diane:  my wife, my friend, my confidant’,” Helen read.  “‘For all the years we shared our walks and talks.’  Oh, how sweet,” she exclaimed, tears returning to her eyes.

          “Should we share their bench?” asked Jess, motioning toward the wooden seat.

          “It is rather pretty here,” Helen commented.  She’d been trying not to slow Jess down, but a little rest would be nice.  “Back at my house near Denver,” Helen mentioned as they sat down, “my husband, Ron, and I had a place we used to walk to.  It was up behind the house where we could look out over the canyon.  We didn’t have anything this nice to sit on though, just a big rock with a flat top.”

          “Spending time together is important,” Jess commented.  “Life can get so busy that many couples forget to talk at all.”

          “Sometimes I still talk to Ron,” confided Helen, “when I sit at the top of the rise.”

          “He hears you.”

          Helen was sure he meant that in a general, comforting sort of way, but he said it with such conviction that she almost believed he knew it to be true. 

          “There are so many things I wish I could talk to Ron about,” Helen admitted wistfully.  “But I’m afraid some things even he wouldn’t be able to help me understand.”

          Jess rested his hand on hers.  “God listens too.”

          Helen couldn’t help looking up at him, at the intensity of his gaze.  “How do you know?” she questioned.  “How do you really know?”

          “I know.”

          Looking away, Helen shook her head.  “Nikki, we brought her up in the church, but she says…  Well, she seems so certain that…”

          “Nikki is wrong.”  Jess stood and waited for Helen to join him.  They began walking again at a leisurely pace, gradually heading back toward the lecture hall at the hotel.  “Nikki will find her way in her own time,” Jess added.  He stopped by the entrance.  “Keep praying, Helen.  Keep talking to God.  He listens.”  Jess smiled warmly at her before turning away, back toward the park.

          How had he known she wanted to be back in time for Nikki’s lecture?  He must have guessed that she would.  If only she had his conviction.  Then maybe she could explain her faith to her daughter without sounding archaic.

*   *   *

          Nikki was just being introduced when Helen walked into the lecture hall.  A huge screen behind the podium showed pictures of various religious figures in full garb on one side.  On the other were images depicting scientific research in medical, biological, engineering, and space technologies.  Apparently, the two sides were supposed to be in opposition to one another. 

          Helen never understood why so many scientists felt that the acquisition of knowledge and a belief in God should be at odds.  Wouldn’t God want us to use the intelligence and sense of curiosity we were endowed with?  And why should attaining knowledge of this incredible world we live in make so many believe we’re going it alone?  But maybe the concept of faith was what irritated these highly educated scholars.  Faith believes without proof.  Nikki hated not having proof.  She lived for hard facts.

          “As statistics show,” Nikki was saying, “although around 90 percent of the population here in the U.S. actually believes in a personal God, the higher the education, the lower that percentage falls.”  On the screen a new set of numbers appeared.  “Among PhD’s, the percentage drops dramatically.”  Nikki smiled.  “I’ve heard the rates are lowest among biologists.”  Since most realized Nikki was a member of that group, quiet chuckles tickled the silence of the room. 

          “The question remains, however, why we, as the elite educated professionals in this country, most of us members of the National Academy of Sciences, still can not find consensus among ourselves as to the futility of the God hypothesis.”  Nikki brought up pictures of famous scientists from Galileo to Sir Isaac Newton.  “Some of the most brilliant minds throughout history have fallen back on the theory of Intelligent Design, of a belief that some form of creator had a hand in the design of the universe, but only when their knowledge met the limits of the day.”

          Nikki went on to site examples through the centuries, but what Helen noticed most was that these men, the most accomplished of their time, also believed in God.  Was it really their lack of knowledge which led them to their conclusions, or was it the vast knowledge they had attained which reaffirmed their beliefs?  She thought about what Jess had told her.  “Nikki is wrong.”  How could he be so sure?  As Helen listened to her daughter, she noticed the same conviction, the same absolute surety.  Well, maybe not quite the same.  Nikki sounded sure in an “it only makes sense” manner.  Jess simply stated a fact, as if he’d just mentioned the sky was blue.

          “So something to consider in educating the public,” continued Nikki, “is that theories of a mystery designer have always been a fallback for a lack of knowledge.  Heavy dependence on god theories has even led to declines or bans of scientific discovery.  Yet even in our own ranks, among the most educated scientists, some 15 to 17 percent still believe in a God who hears and answers their prayers.  They believe this God created our expanding universe which will eventually spiral out to oblivion, almost all of which is uninhabitable and deadly, then waited billions of years for conditions to become conducive for life, then billions more for human life.  Worse yet, they believe this God cares personally for all the people who live, who have ever lived, and whoever will.

          “Belief systems can be helpful emotionally for those who can’t accept that this is all we have.  There is no life after death, no magical heaven where we spend eternity with an all-powerful, benevolent force.”  For a split second, Nikki’s gaze slipped to the back of the room, holding her mother’s almost apologetically.  Then she moved on.  “But we have to realize that using God as an emotional crutch also allows for radical beliefs, such as martyrdom.  It allows human beings to accept all that occurs as God’s will instead of advancing understanding and making the best we can out of our current situation. 

          “There is no benevolent force that will come save us from ourselves or the situations we find ourselves contending with.  We are responsible for ourselves and each other.  It is our responsibility as scientists to set an example to those less educated, those whose minds are embedded from infancy with the fallacy of God.  This responsibility must extend to all our ranks.  We can hardly expect the general public to respond to reason if we, ourselves, can’t.”

          Helen left the room immediately, beating most of the crowd.  Nikki would be busy answering individual questions and concerns for a while anyway.  All the better.  Helen needed a few minutes to calm the pains in her chest before seeing her daughter.  These pains had nothing to do with a physical condition.  It was emotional pain so intense it felt real. 

          What if Nikki was right?  To lose Ron to heaven was immensely difficult.  To lose him to nothingness was impossible.  And what about Hannah?  How could Nikki tell her own daughter that there would be nothing but emptiness after the cancer finally finished ravishing her tiny little body?  Hannah’s spirit was so full of life.  Was her existence really just a fleeting fluke?  Was she nothing more than a chance combining of inanimate chemicals and molecules that would soon turn to dust?

          Without realizing it, Helen had wandered back to the bench she and Jess had shared earlier.  She sat, dropping her head and letting her tears flow freely.  Finally the emptiness was too much for her and she prayed.  She didn’t care at the moment if it was just emotional inventiveness.  Comforting warmth replaced the loneliness and pain.  Helen rested her head against the arm of the bench, tucking her legs up under her.  Basking in the gentle warmth of the sun, she slept.

*   *   *

          Helen woke to the sound of tinkling laughter.  Her cramped joints ached a little as she sat up, stretching her legs out to get her circulation back. 

          “Hi Grandma,” Hannah said, her voice still tinged with amusement.  “Did you forget where your room is?”

          Helen stood to gently ruffle Hannah’s hair.  “I was just enjoying the sun and the scenery, you little imp.”

          “Isn’t it hard to enjoy the scenery with your eyes closed?”

          Helen smiled.  “Ah, then you just have to enjoy it with your ears.”  She noticed Jack coming up from behind.  “How did you get so far ahead of your dad?  And what happened to your hat?”

          “He’s not as fast as me.  I told him I could beat him to the park.”

          Jack came up and deposited Hannah’s hat back on her head.  “Did she mention that she threw her hat up into the air just before she issued that challenge?  I just about landed on my backside trying to get it out of that tree with my skis on.”

          “I don’t like wearing my hat,” complained Hannah.  “It makes my hair flat.”

          “It’s also a good distraction when you want to win a race,” noted Jack.

          Hannah gave him an impish grin.  “I still found Grandma first.  Mommy said she already looked out by the park.”

          Helen turned to Jack.  “Nikki was looking for me?”  She just noticed that the sun was setting on the other side of the hotel complex.

          “She was worried that you were upset after her lecture,” Jack explained.  

          “I shouldn’t have left in such a hurry I guess,” Helen admitted.  “I’ve heard her lectures before.  I don’t know why it affected me so much worse this time.  She was just so eloquent, so sure, so convincing.”

          “I know,” Jack admitted.  “I’ve heard her talk.”

          “How do you do it, Jack?” asked Helen, almost pleading to understand.  Hannah was stalking a black squirrel nearby, so Helen kept her voice low.  “How do you keep believing when your contemporaries all but shun you?  How can you hold on to your faith in the face of all this?”  Helen’s encompassing gesture included the convention center as well as Hannah.

          Jack was well aware of what Helen was asking.  “I wish I could say my faith has never wavered, Helen,” he said in answer.  Pain surfaced in his gaze as his eyes followed Hannah.  She was actively skiing after the squirrel now in precarious circles.  “More and more, the strength of my position is ridiculed and dismissed out of hand by my colleagues.  Nikki is disgusted with what she perceives as my refusal to see reason, made worse by my need to testify to what I know, what is right there for us to witness.  The glory of God isn’t in the cessation of knowledge, but in the acquisition.  The more I learn, Helen, the more I am amazed at the intricacies.  Chaos can’t explain what I see, what I’ve learned.

          “With enough random joining of molecules and materials,” he stated, “I suppose an airplane or an SUV could potentially come into existence without an engineer.  Just like zillions of parallel universes might explain why the six universal constants that make life possible have been refined to such precision that altering just one by one part in a hundred million million would eliminate any chance for life on Earth or anywhere in our universe.  But Nikki is more willing to believe throwing as many universes as necessary into the mix is the more plausible theory, than to believe there might be more out there than just the cosmos.”

          Jack motioned for Helen to sit back on the bench then joined her.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t be going off like that.  Just practicing for Sunday I guess.”  

          Helen nodded.  “I understand.  It amazes me that both you and Nikki can sound so sure of what you believe.  I just know what I feel, and sometimes I don’t care if it’s real or not.  I can’t live apart from God.  There’s just no point to life without Him, even if I can’t understand the heartache sometimes.”  She looked pointedly at Hannah.

          “There are times when I find it easier to think of God more as a supremely intelligent designer than as a being who could know billions of people intimately,” acknowledged Jack.  “I wonder if expecting a being of His magnitude to recognize, much less care personally for each one of us isn’t asking a bit too much.”  Jack kept his attention on Hannah.  “I know most miracles now are given to us through our understanding of science, but sometimes when science fails…”  He took a moment to collect himself.  “I think about Jesus, about the miracles He performed, about the power He had over what we know to be the ineffaceable laws of nature.  I wonder how my esteemed colleagues would explain away the feats Jesus accomplished if they could have witnessed them first hand.”

          “They would have found a way to discredit His works,” Helen asserted.  “His own religious leaders did.”

          “I guess I should consider myself lucky that I’ve only been verbally crucified lately,” Jack quipped.  “Right now, I don’t know if I can respond convincingly to the barbs sure to be thrown my way.  I attended one of the lectures before Nikki’s and it turned into a veritable God-bashing session.  Topics ranged from poking fun at the inefficiencies of our own bodies to shocking the audience with pictures of infants with grotesque birth defects, only some of which could be explained by human interference.  It appears their lack of knowledge can now prove there isn’t a God.  Childhood cancers were another reason cited against the probability of a benevolent God.”  Jack paused, swallowed several times and strained to keep his composure.  Still, his voice quavered, “How can I argue against that?”