“Yeah, we helped him out there, I suppose.”
“I’m guessing that never would have happened though.”
“Not in a million years.”
Both men nipped their beers and watched the golf match that was on the bar television. Neither of them played. The juke box switched to Johnny Cash. Lynch pointed to the five-dollar bill lying flat in front Leo.
“You’re not expecting Jimmy to take that, are you?”
The priest gave the money a fleeting glance.
“He will eventually, or I’ll just leave it there.”
“You’ll get it back at Mass.”
“That’s okay.”
The case was over. These were just two guys shooting the shit over a beer. Bon Jovi was next.
“Johnny used to work at the doooock…”
They both smiled to themselves for the same reason. Leo spoke.
“Interesting day, then?”
“Wasn’t bad.”
Leo’s head had been in a bad place most of the day. In just about any other environment, what came out of his mouth next would have come across as a sudden and nutty change of subject. But this was Frankie and Jimmy’s at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon. No rules.
“Can I ask you something, Jim?”
“Of course.”
“What are you? I mean what religion? I’ve never asked. I know it’s none of my business, but I’m curious.”
“I was raised Methodist, but I haven’t practiced for a long time.”
“Do you still believe in God?”
“Whoa-ho! Livin’ on a pra-yer!”
“Do you want the short version or the long version?”
“Give me the short.”
“Yes.”
“Now give me the long.”
“I don’t think you’ll like it.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Lynch finished his lager and signaled Jimmy for another.
“If I speak in paragraph form, it’s only because I’ve talked this through several times, to myself, out loud. Keep in mind that my parents were both church-going academics. Whether by nature or nurture, I have spent a lot of my life trying to reconcile religion and science.
“I believe there is a force in the universe that tries to steer all things toward a greater good. I believe this force to be benevolent, and, simply out of habit, I call it God.
“On a daily basis, I am brought face to face with the argument against a world with purpose. People see things like muggings, sexual assaults, child neglect, and drug overdose as evidence of a world set afloat with no rudder. I see the opposite. When I see that stuff, I see pushback. I see collision. I see the friction and the resulting fire that ignites when people act in contrary to God’s guidance.
“I’ll tell you something else. I’ve got no problem with science. It’s done its job. But nothing has convinced me that science can explain why I feel the way I do about my girlfriend. There’s no electrical impulse in my brain that explains why I like creamed herring and Steely Dan.”
Jimmy put Lynch’s pint on the bar. Lynch nodded thank you, took a foamy gulp, and continued.
“So, yes, I believe in a soul, for lack of a better thing to call it. And the soul is friggin’ awesome. It’s a good thing that it is too, because the body sucks. The soul is what God speaks to, and the body fights it because the body’s time is limited. It’s only interested in solutions that are quick, easy, or both.
“A guy is beating up his wife and the neighbors hear it. They should do something. They know they should do something. God is telling them to do something but they don’t. Why? Because the guy might be a psycho, and the body doesn’t want to risk injury. Because they may have to serve as witnesses at a trial, and the body would rather watch reruns of Seinfeld. And that, father, I believe to be the actual root of all evil … when the body wins.
“And, yes, I acknowledge that nothing I’ve said accounts for mental illness. I’m still working on that one.
“My partner was actually talking about this stuff a few days ago (burp) sort of. He was theorizing about the soul being quasi-parasitic.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Never mind. I’m trying to work my way around to death. I mean, if the soul lacks the limitations of the body, then it must be eternal, right? Death has to be nothing more than the soul leaving this ridiculous, overused vehicle and going on to a plane of existence we can’t begin to understand. Is it Heaven? To put a name to it, I suppose so. I find the clouds and angels thing challenging, but I it’s got to be free of pain…free of the body…and that’s good enough.
“Now, here’s the thing. If I’m going to believe there’s something out there that can speak directly to the soul, then I have to acknowledge that it’s not too far of a leap to believe that such a thing could manifest itself as human and walk among us a bit over 2000 years ago. Does that make me a Christian? If I knew more about Islam or Hinduism, I could probably make the same leap to one of those. So, I guess I don’t know.
“How’s that for the religious beliefs of a certified ladder logic programmer?”
Leo cracked a smile.
“I’ve heard worse…”
He turned back to the golf.
“…but you should get yourself to church every once in a while, to nurture that stuff. Religion is a team sport.”
“I know. I’d rather sleep in.”
Both men laughed. So did Jimmy, who was washing wine glasses and eavesdropping from the end of the bar. Lynch went on.
“My dad had something to say to me once when I gave him a fight about going to church. I was twelve, and I remember saying ‘What’s the point? How do you even know God exists?’. And my dad looked me square in the eye and said ‘I don’t. I have no proof; I want no proof. If there were proof of the existence of God, then God’s existence would be a fact, and there would be no reason to believe. If there’s no reason to believe, then there’s no reason
