Chapter 17 - ASK IT AGAINSunday sunlight poured through the stained-glass windows almost exactly as it had the afternoon Noah and Clara first met.
They chose the same pew.
Noah carried the same small Bible.
Clara wore the same silver cross.
The visual sameness made the difference in them more obvious.
They were not less religious.
They were less afraid of questions.
Rachel and Elena sat one row behind.
Mark and Daniel sat beside them.
Thomas stayed near the aisle.
Clara turned around.
“Ready?”
Elena smiled.
“Apparently.”
Clara faced Noah.
“You start.”
“No, it was your question.”
“You said the last part.”
“Fine.”
Noah looked at the adults.
“If Clara's family prayed…”
Clara continued.
“…and Noah's family prayed…”
“And both families believe God listened…”
Clara turned toward Elena.
“Which mom is right?”
The adults smiled.
Not because the question had become easy.
Because it no longer felt like a weapon.
Elena answered first.
“I believe the Catholic faith is true.”
Clara nodded.
Rachel said:
“And I believe deeply in my Southern Baptist faith.”
Noah nodded.
Clara frowned.
“That sounds like the same problem.”
Daniel laughed.
“She got you.”
Elena smiled.
“Here's what I would say differently now.”
She put one hand on Clara's shoulder.
“The fact that your legs improved isn't proof that God prefers Catholics.”
Clara waited.
“And Noah's improved vision isn't proof that God prefers Baptists.”
Rachel added:
“Our gratitude doesn't have to become a competition.”
Noah looked down at his Bible.
“Then how do we know which church is right?”
Mark answered carefully.
“You learn.”
Daniel added:
“You study.”
Rachel:
“You pray.”
Elena:
“You listen.”
Thomas:
“You keep asking.”
Clara looked around.
“And then?”
Everyone went quiet.
Noah laughed.
“They don't know.”
Elena smiled.
“Sometimes after all of that, people still disagree.”
Clara leaned back.
“That seems inefficient.”
Thomas laughed.
“Humanity has many inefficiencies.”
Noah looked at Rachel.
“Do adults not know everything?”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“Who told you we did?”
“You act like it.”
The children laughed.
So did the adults.
Then Clara became serious again.
“If I grow up and still believe Catholic stuff, and Noah grows up and still believes Baptist stuff…”
“Yes?” Elena said.
“Can we still be friends?”
Noah looked offended.
“Why wouldn't we?”
“I don't know.”
“I'll probably be taller than you.”
“That doesn't matter.”
“You'll still be bossy.”
“I am not bossy.”
“You made the question list.”
“Because you wrote ‘good’ wrong.”
Thomas whispered to Rachel:
“The theological crisis has become grammar.”
“Progress.”
Clara ignored them.
She looked toward the cross at the front.
Then back toward Noah.
“I have another question.”
Everyone groaned playfully.
“What?” Elena asked.
Clara's expression changed.
This question had no joke behind it.
“If God loves people…”
She paused.
“…why do people who love God fight about Him?”
The adults stopped smiling.
Noah looked at Clara.
Then slowly turned toward Thomas.
“You said adults make teams.”
Thomas nodded.
“But why?”
No one answered quickly.
Clara touched her necklace.
“Because if Catholic people love God…”
Noah continued:
“…and Baptist people love God…”
Clara finished:
“…why do they get mad at each other?”
Mark looked at Elena.
Elena looked at Rachel.
They had prepared for the original question.
Not this one.
Thomas leaned against the pew.
“Maybe,” he said softly, “that's the next question adults need to answer honestly.”
Clara looked at him.
“Do you know?”
Thomas smiled.
“I know some reasons.”
“Tell us.”
And for the next hour, the conversation moved away from who was right.
May you like
It moved toward what people did with being convinced they were right.
That distinction changed everything.
