II
Heidi and Charles were stretched out on their living room sofa enjoying the opportunity to chat about their move to Bethany. Charles had given notice at the hospital, and for the most part everything was in order. Heidi watched him now, the love in his eyes, the way he cared so much about her happiness. He put his hand on her belly and smiled.
“It’s getting bigger.”
She pushed her fist into his shoulder and giggled. “Not it, silly. Her.”
“Ah, another princess in the house!” He laughed. “Ultrasounds can be wrong, remember. Happens at the clinic every day.”
“Not this time. I have a feeling about her.” Heidi placed a protective hand over her abdomen. “She’s our little sweetheart.” Her eyes lifted to his and her heart felt light as air. “I can actually picture her.”
The baby kicked, and a grin spread across Charles’s face. “Must be a girl. She’s feisty, just like her mother.”
He snuggled in close to her, his arm around her midsection as though he were cradling them both. “You don’t mind moving in November … right after the baby’s born?”
She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair. “As long as I’ve got you and God on my side, I can do anything.”
There was a comfortable silence between them and Heidi stared out the window at the gold and maroon leaves on the tree. Fall was her favorite time of year. Summer’s last hurrah—its shout that life is, and life will come again. It was the time of year her mother had gotten sick, a time when Jordan had been her greatest strength, her pillar of hope that God would work through their mother’s illness no matter what happened. Even after their mother died Jordan had been strong for her, holding her, assuring her that one day they’d all be together in heaven.
Heidi sighed. Days like this it was easy to picture Jordan as he’d been back then, dark-haired and muscle bound, eyes glowing with sincerity. What if he hadn’t been in the cave that terrible afternoon at the boys’ camp? What if the state had kept them together instead of separating them?
“You okay?” Charles brushed her bangs to the side and looked into her eyes. “Feels like you’re a million miles away.”
“I am.” She snuggled against his shoulder and resumed her study of autumn out their living room window. “Just thinking about Mom and Jordan.”
Charles exhaled through pursed lips, and she could feel his concern for her. He understood the place in her heart that would always remember, always yearn for the people of her childhood days, for her mother and brother. An idea occurred to her and she turned her attention back to Charles. “What if we name her Jordan Lee?”
Charles cocked his head thoughtfully and then drew near and kissed her. “I like it.”
“Really? You do?” Her mood soared with the possibility that her little girl might carry on her brother’s name. The name of an uncle her daughter would never know.
“From everything you’ve told me about Jordan, he was kind and strong and loving. He cared deeply about God and his family. Our little girl couldn’t have a better name.”
Heidi buried her head in Charles’ shoulder again. “I love you so much. Thanks for understanding.”
He squeezed her once. “You make it easy.”
A few minutes passed and he grabbed the remote control. “I want to see what the president said in his address last night.”
They watched the opening story and after a few minutes Heidi stood up. “I’ll get dinner.” She moved behind Charles and massaged his neck and shoulders.
“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted. “Can’t we just skip dinner?”
She laughed and gave him a final squeeze. “You might not need it, but I’m eating for two.” She ducked her head in front of him, kissed him on the cheek, and left the room.
Charles craned his neck and watched her go. How did he get so lucky, anyway? Married to the perfect woman and about to be a first-time father? He turned his attention back to the television. It was good to see Heidi smile. Too often this time of the year she was lost in thought, remembering ghosts from her past. He sighed and flicked the channel. If there was one thing he was anxious to ask God, it was why He’d taken Jordan Riley so young. Hadn’t it been enough to call Heidi’s mother home without taking her brother too? A news program played on but Charles was too lost in thought to hear it.
He wasn’t angry with the Lord, just curious.
It didn’t matter that he’d never met Jordan. Charles had heard enough about him to feel like family, as though he could easily recognize him if he passed him on the street. Clearly Heidi had been crazy about her brother, and every fall her feelings for him came back stronger than ever. The reason was simple: During the hardest time in Heidi’s life, Jordan had meant everything to her.
The news program moved onto another story, and Charles focused on what was being said. Something about a park in Bethany and a lawsuit to remove a statue. He tried to make sense of the story, but he’d already missed too many details. He wondered if Heidi knew about the case. Probably. He leaned back into the couch and yawned. Maybe he’d talk to her about it over dinner. His thoughts shifted to the play-offs and whether the National League had a team worthy of the World Series. For that matter, where the big games would be held that year and whether he’d have a chance to take in any baseball action before the move.
By the time Heidi called him for dinner, he’d completely forgotten about Jericho Park and the obscure news item regarding a legal fight over some statue, or the fact that he’d ever intended to bring up the story to Heidi in the first place.
12
In the small law office in Bethany, the weeks passed in a blur of case study and preparation for Joshua Nunn. But when the day of the hearing arrived, he felt no more prepared than the day he’d been given the case, the day he’d had the strange dream.
“You ready to beat this guy?” Frank had asked in a phone call that morning.
Joshua hadn’t been sure how to answer him. Frank was the mayor after all, the one who had put such faith in Joshua’s abilities in the first place. From the beginning he had known it would be a tough case to win. Now that he’d had a chance to study case precedent, he was fairly sure it was impossible.
A pain took root in his gut. “I’ll give it my best.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, old friend. We’ve got the Lord on our side.”
That much was sure, Joshua knew. Twice in the past week various churches had held prayer rallies at Jericho Park with as many as three hundred people—singing and agreeing with each other that the Jesus statue was part of who they were, a key facet of their town’s history and personality. The gatherings had done a great job of making the townspeople heard. All three local network affiliates had carried stories about the public outcry on their nightly news, making Faith Evans look like a prophet.
“Think there’ll be a group at the courthouse?”
Frank chuckled. “If you call a thousand people gathered on the courthouse lawn a group.”
Joshua gulped. “A thousand people?” Lord, I’m not up to this. I need Bob …
Be strong and courageous … I will go before you.
The silent words reassured him, easing the kinks in Joshua’s belly.
“At least that many. People are outraged over this. Lot of nerve that HOUR group has, messing with our statue. That’s the message the people want to convey and I’m betting they actually get heard today.” Frank offered a few more words of encouragement then wrapped up the conversation. “Gotta run if I want a good seat. See you there.”
Joshua rubbed the back of his neck and leaned forward in his chair. “See ya.”
If Bob were there they’d have had an early morning prayer time, bowed their heads together, and taken the issue straight to the throne room of God. Since that wasn’t possible, Joshua was left with only one option: pray alone. The image of Bobs daughter came to mind, and suddenly he knew he would not be praying alone that morning. Wherever she wa
s, Bob’s daughter would be lifting her voice as well, asking God, even begging Him, to have mercy on the people of Bethany, Pennsylvania.
Even if case precedent and HOUR and everything else were against them.
Joshua folded his hands, stared for a moment at the photo of Bob Moses on the office wall, closed his eyes, and hung his head. “Okay, God, here it is: You know the situation … ”
Faith pulled into a nearly full lot across the street from the courthouse, parked her car, and instructed herself to calm down. Her heart pounded as though it were trying to break free from her body and start a life of its own.
“God help us,” she whispered as she climbed out of her car and locked the door. She’d gotten up earlier than usual that morning and prayed for nearly an hour, but still peace eluded her. In the weeks since speaking to Jordan, since hearing the determination in his voice, Faith’s confidence that the city would win the case had eroded like beach property in winter. Now that the morning of the hearing had arrived she was more nervous than ever.
She wasn’t covering the story for the station, but she’d be recognized all the same. Days earlier she’d been warned to stay out of the camera’s view—keep her distance if she wanted to keep her job.
“You’re recognized everywhere you go,” Dick Baker told her. “No anchor of mine will be taking sides on a political issue like this one.”
His words echoed in Faith’s mind as she made her way past a peaceful demonstration on the front lawn, nodding at several people who waved in her direction. She entered the courtroom and found a seat near the back. The courthouse was located just outside Bethany in a newly renovated area designated for state government buildings. Judge Randall Webster would preside, and Faith was not at all comforted by the fact. Prior to taking the position as a jurist for the state of Pennsylvania, Judge Webster had been a defense attorney who earned a reputation for getting his clients the lightest possible sentences. He was a liberal man who’d made it abundantly clear he saw no place in society for religious icons, the Ten Commandments, or any mention of God whatsoever. Faith felt certain that if it had been up to Judge Webster, the dollar bill would say, “In us we trust.” And that philosophy pervaded everything he said from the bench.
Faith spotted her father’s partner across the courtroom and their eyes met. She smiled and discreetly pointed upward, mouthing the word, “Believe.” Joshua nodded, his eyes filled with warmth even though uncertainty controlled his face. He returned his attention to his notes, and Faith shifted her gaze to the other side of the room.
Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted Jordan Riley. He moved easily from one end of the table to the other, his chiseled face masked in concentration, shoulders filling out his dark designer suit. She berated herself for being attracted to him. God, help me remember he’s on the wrong side.
He moved toward what looked to be a team of attorneys, and they surrounded him the way athletes do in the final moments before a game. Clearly Jordan was in control of the meeting. He spoke commands to several of the men, and one at a time they peeled away and took their seats, either at the plaintiff’s table or in the first row behind it.
She looked at him, hoping he would meet her gaze, but he was too caught up in his preparation. God’s on our side, Jordan … besides, nothing will bring back your mother.
Faith saw that every seat in the courtroom was taken, but still people continued to stream in, lining two and three deep along the walls. Finally, security guards blocked the entrance and began turning people away.
Judge Webster entered the room and a hush fell over the crowd. He studied the mass of people, looked from perfectly dressed Jordan to the older Joshua and gently rapped his gavel. “Order … court is in session.” His voice was deep and gravelly and carried with it an authority that sent a shiver down Faith’s spine.
Please, God, be with us …
“This court will now hear the matter of Humanity Organized and United for Responsibility versus the city of Bethany, Pennsylvania.”
Joshua watched as the judge lifted his chin and stared down the bridge of his nose. “I understand there are—” he made no effort to hide his sarcasm—“a few people interested in the outcome of this case.” His voice boomed out from the bench. “Let’s make one thing clear up front. No intimidation will take place in my court-room. People are welcome to have an opinion.” He gestured toward the window that overlooked the courthouse greens. “They are even invited to line up twenty deep across the lawn.” He paused and glared at Joshua. “But nothing they say or do will influence the rulings I make in my courthouse now or at any other time. Is that clear?”
Joshua felt every eye in the room on him. “Yes, Your Honor, of course not.”
The judge glared at Jordan next. “That goes for you, too.”
Jordan Riley grinned at the judge as though the man were a favorite uncle. “Absolutely, Your Honor.”
Judge Webster sat back in his seat. “In that case, let’s begin. We’ll hear from the plaintiff first.” He motioned at the audience. “The rest of you may be seated.”
Those who had seats did as the judge directed, and Jordan took the floor. He paced slowly in front of the tables, holding his notes as though if he studied them long enough he might remember what to say. Joshua knew that wasn’t the case. He’d done his research on Riley. The man’s memory was one of the best in the business. The notes in his hands were merely for appearances, a device intended to give the impression that everything he said—from his opening argument to his closing remarks—was strictly from case law and researched material. That way he wouldn’t come across as having a personal vendetta against the people of Bethany or their Jesus statue. Rather he was simply a legal servant of society, doing his best to maintain the line between church and state.
Joshua wondered if he was the only one in the room who saw through the ploy.
“Your Honor, the HOUR organization has filed suit against the people of Bethany for what is clearly a violation of state law. In the center of Bethany is a park—owned and operated by the city. And at the center of the park stands a ten-foot-high statue of Jesus Christ.” Jordan paused as though he might rest his case on that note alone. “We believe the statue represents a conflict between church and state and is therefore a violation of the Constitution.” He stopped pacing and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, the folder held at his side. “The law is clear that no state government shall endorse or suggest or force any religion on its constituents. Clearly Jesus Christ is the universal symbol for Christianity. And since the Jesus statue stands on public property, its presence suggests a religion that is not only government-sponsored and endorsed, but quite possibly mandated.”
Jordan shrugged his shoulders and cast an easy smile at Judge Webster. “Very simply, we want the statue removed as soon as possible.”
The judge nodded. The lines on his face had eased considerably. “Go on, Counsel.”
Jordan nodded and resumed his meandering pace across the front of the courtroom, his eyes on his notes once more. Joshua watched him and was caught off guard by something in the young man’s eyes. His face was familiar in an eerie sort of way …
“In addition to the law—which is clearly on our side—we believe we have ample precedent to prove our point. With us today we have research from dozens of past cases, both from the state and Supreme Court level. If it pleases Your Honor, I’ll give a summary of that research at this time.”
Judge Webster gestured toward Jordan in a way that was just short of rude. “Continue.”
Across the room Joshua tried to read the feeling coming from the bench. Anyone who knew the judge knew where he likely stood on the issue of church and state. But Joshua knew the man also prided himself on not being biased. Joshua prayed that pride would work in their favor.
Jordan set his things down on the plaintiff’s table and sorted through them for a few seconds before apparently finding what he was looking for. “Here we are … ” And with that
, Jordan neatly and succinctly cited exactly fourteen sources that were similar in nature, cases where a nativity scene or a Christian fish symbol or a cross was eliminated from the landscape of any place even remotely public. For good measure, he included two examples where private establishments were ordered to remove their Christian symbols as well.
After talking for less than an hour, Jordan set his notes down and looked at the judge. “That’s all for now, Your Honor.” A warm smile filled his face. “We are not looking to punish or in any way penalize the people of Bethany. We merely want the good citizens of this country to feel free to live and work around public areas without being forced to adhere to a specific religion. In essence—” he gestured toward his team of attorneys, and again Joshua had the strange feeling he’d seen the young attorney somewhere before—“we want to preserve the rights of the people to live free from the burden of state-sponsored religion. Now and as long as this great nation might stand. Thank you, Your Honor.”
Jordan took his seat, and Joshua gathered his notes. He was certain his opponent had reams more of case precedent to support the idea that religious icons and displays ought not to be left standing on public property. That was fine. Joshua had prepared as well. He smiled to himself and felt a peaceful confidence come over him. God had promised to fight the battle, to go before him. Surely that meant victory, right? He stood up and headed toward the center of the floor, six feet from the judge’s chair, praying for the right words.
“Your Honor, I appreciate the comments and concerns presented by the plaintiff. But I disagree that this is a case of the HOUR organization looking out for the rights of the people.” He glanced at his notes and allowed a measured pause. The last thing he wanted was to appear rushed and flustered, as though he had to work to defend the city’s position.
He took a steadying breath and continued. “The statue in question was given to the city of Bethany as a gift nearly a hundred years ago.” Joshua squared up before the bench and met the judge’s eyes straight on. “If the city had received a statue of Pocahontas or Christopher Columbus or Martin Luther King Jr., certainly no one would object to having it placed at the center of the city’s oldest park. Like Columbus or King, Jesus Christ is a person of great historical significance, both in our United States history as well as the history of the world. Removing the statue of Him now is, in this city’s opinion, a violation of the citizens’ rights to cherish this gift, to look upon its considerable beauty and expression, to consider the historical significance of the man it represents.” He made his way to the defense table and sorted through a series of files. If his opponent could look loaded with precedent, so could he. “I’d like to share some case law supporting that opinion.”