Chapter Fifteen

   AS THEY descended the mountain range Chris reached out a hand, tapped Manly on the knee and pointed ahead. Amid some low wooded hills in the far distance, flashing in the rays of the early morning sun, stretched a skyline of magnificent proportions. White towers seemed to become almost incandescent as they lifted their turrets to a cloudless sky.

   "Is that it?" asked Manly, almost unable to complete the question.

   Chris nodded. "I'm dead sure of it. Nothing else like it on the whole route. Hang on, buddy, it means glory ahead."

   "Makes you kind of shiver, doesn't it?" muttered Hooper.

   "Can't exactly say it does," replied Chris. ''I just feel good all over. It's as if this poor, unglued frame of mine was telling me, 'Now we're going to come together.' I just wonder if they serve manna for breakfast."

   The road stretched like a twin ribbon across the green valley as the travellers sped quickly toward their destination. Dipping to the valley floor, they

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found lakes beginning to appear in pockets of the rolling hills. Local traffic was picking up; not infrequently a car passed them in the opposite direction, obviously geared for a long journey. An hour later they reached the attractive environs of the city. Before them loomed a series of tall, imposing aluminium-like pillars that formed a belt around the metropolitan area. They were at a loss to explain these striking columns, and Manly was still puzzling over them when Chris pulled off the road, drove into the car park of a handsome restaurant complex and stopped in front of a petrol pump.

   "What are you doing?" demanded Hooper.

   "Do I have to explain?" retorted Chris. "Talk to your stomach."

   His passenger continued to protest. "We're so close to the end of the trip, let's take it on in. It's just a mile or two."

   Chris gave the attendant instructions for a thorough check-up and a wash job. "I'm not saying Life City can wait," he philosophized. "I'm just afraid I can't. The way the Lord put this carcass together, He never intended it to go so low on fuel. Remember how He fed the five thousand?"

   "Well," murmured Hooper, "when you put it in language like that—"

   The restaurant was crowded, but the hostess offered to seat them at a table where two other men were already waiting for their orders. Chris accepted the suggestion and they found themselves opposite the two strangers, who soon introduced themselves. One

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said he was John Densely; the other, the Reverend Freddie Phemeral. The formalities out of the way, Chris ventured, "I take it this is Life City."

   "Not quite," said the clergyman, "but almost. Been travelling long?"

   "Yes and no,'' said Chris. "For the last few days we've been a little out of touch." He felt the bruises on his cheekbone but said no more.

   "You haven't heard the news?" asked Densely.

   "No."

   "Well! This morning the Russians joined China's nuclear war threat. Said we had twenty-four hours to begin airlifting troops out of Berlin."

   "It never ends, does it?" commented Hooper.

   "What never ends?"

   "Oh, things. Just one uproar after another."

   "It keeps getting worse," said Phemeral. "Within hours it may all be over."

   "Maybe and maybe not," said Manly. "The Lord might have something to do with that." He placed his order, then asked, "Are you gentlemen here on business?"

   "In a way," said Densely. "We're Christians on our way into Life City."

   "Great!" exclaimed Chris. "You've been through the transmitter too, have you?"

   Densely looked at his companion. "You see," he said hesitantly, "we're not pilgrims in the ordinary sense. The doctor here is working on some sociological studies. He'll be engaging in research in Life City. Me, I'm going in as—as a kind of tourist."

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   "I thought—" began Chris, but Manly interrupted him. "Tell me, Brother Densely," he said, "how are things between you and God?"

   Densely lifted his nose slightly in the air. "About as well as they are with you, I expect. I think about God a lot."

   "So does Belial," murmured Chris.

   "What do you think?" persisted Manly.

   "Oh, I'm not sure what you're looking for, Mr. Hooper. That's a rather impertinent question, you know. But if you're one of the orthodox types, let's say I reflect on occasion about Christ dying for all men, and about my own personal dedication to His service. That means a lot to me."

   By this time the food had arrived for Densely and Phemeral and the conversation was diverted to more casual topics. The doctor was soon describing the studies in motivation which had led him to seek admission to Life City. "I'm very much interested in the individual ethical act, or, as you might say, the good deed," he explained. "I want to investigate the philosophical background and equipment that make up a person's desire to do such a deed. Does the breakdown of contributing elements yield any significant rationale? Are there any guidelines here? Is it all sudden impulse or environmental pressure, or are there genetic factors? What part does culture play? What about the effect of sibling training? And so on."

   "But what led you to try to do research in Life City?" asked Manly.

   "Well, I happen to know that in Life City many

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people are being sent out on missions to help their fellow men. There's a strong sense of social responsibility here. I hope to do some spot interviews and perhaps distribute some questionnaire materials."

   "Will you be using computers?" asked Chris from force of habit.

   "Definitely. I've taken two courses in programming, myself. We'll be feeding the results into computers as fast as we collect them."

   The rest of the meal passed amiably enough, and as they rose from the table together Chris asked whether Densely and Phemeral had transportation to the gates of the city. It so happened that they did; accordingly they parted, and Chris and Manly went to the service station to wait for the Mustang. Before long they were embarked on the final stage of their journey; but they were so interested in discussing the conversation in the restaurant, they scarcely noticed the breathtaking appearance of the main approach as they drove up to the city entrance, where the road ended. Chris broke off at last to call attention to the fascinating architectural sights surrounding them on all sides. "Look!" he cried. "We wondered what those aluminium pillars were. The whole city seems to be walled with some kind of insulated glass, and the pillars make the frames!"

   A young attendant in white shirt and trousers now stopped them and offered to take the Mustang to a garage inside so they could proceed on foot through the arched portal. "Everybody enters this city on his two feet if he can walk," he explained with a smile.

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   "Don't we have to take off our shoes?" asked Chris, remembering a temple he had once visited.

   "No, sir,'' was the reply. "You'll be issued new sandals inside. But it's important that you carry your Bibles with you. They're your passports, you know."

   They fished the Bibles from the glove compartment and climbed out of the car. Before they could start walking across the plaza to the portal, however, they were greeted by two men who turned out to be their erstwhile luncheon companions, Densely and Phemeral. "It's a relief to find you here," said Densely. "We've been having some difficulty gaining admission, and we need someone to vouch for us."

   "Let's just sit down for a minute," said Hooper, indicating a marble bench beside a fountain. 'What did they say to you?"

   "Why," said Densely, "it's rather ridiculous, but the man in the first booth asked whether we had Bibles. I see you've got yours. You know, I thought about bringing mine, but in the rush of leaving it slipped my mind. As I recall, it wasn't where I thought we kept it. But the doctor here has a whole briefcase full of religious documents of one kind or another, and they wouldn't let him through either."

   "I noticed at the restaurant he had a copy of Playgirl magazine in his pocket,'' said Chris.

   "I don't think that had anything to do with their attitude," put in Phemeral. "The man saw one in my briefcase, too, but he couldn't possibly be that bigoted. As a matter of fact, Playgirl has special rates

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for clergymen. I get a lot of raw material out of it for my ethical studies."

   "That registers," said Chris.

   Hooper now addressed Densely. "Maybe we can be of some help, as you suggested. Didn't you say that you were a believer?"

   "Of course I am."

   "And that you are now trusting in Christ?"

   "Absolutely."

   "I don't mean to be intrusive, but let me just ask one more question. How is it that you trust in Christ, brother?"

   "Well, if you want to get technical, I believe that Christ graciously accepts my obedience to Him."

   "He does what?" asked Chris, his jaw dropping.

   "I mean he makes my conduct as a Christian and my life of service to humanity acceptable, so that I stand justified before God."

   "Did you tell that to the man at the gate?"

   "I did. I also told him I was a church member in very good standing, which I am. Matter of fact I've been a church council member for years, and what's more, a heavy contributor."

   "What did he say?"

   "He wanted to know where I got my ideas about Christ and on what authority I based them. He was a foreigner, this man—I think he said he was a Malay from Singapore. Anyway, I told him my authority was the simple testimony of my own dedicated heart, and if that wasn't a Christian statement I don't know what is. But for some reason or other neither he nor the

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man he referred me to seemed to think it was sufficient."

   "What about you, Mr. Phemeral?" asked Hooper.

   "Why, it was quite humiliating, actually. I was turned over to a couple of counsellors and oddly enough, they were from out of the country, too. One was from Ceylon, I believe, and one from somewhere in East Africa. Of course you understand I consider myself a world citizen and completely without prejudice; but they got me involved in a discussion about the difference between correct behaviour caused by external pressures and good behaviour caused by a change of will. This happens to be my field and I know ten times more about it than they do, but there was no use arguing with them. I didn't come up with the right clichés so they rejected me. They asked me about my church, too. That seemed a bit odd. I knew they had missions in Ceylon, but I wasn't aware that they had churches. I had to tell them frankly that I gave up preaching years ago and haven't been attending church for some time. But I can't see why that would keep me from doing some research inside the city. After all, I'm not going in there to corrupt anybody. I'd like to use their libraries and facilities for a couple of weeks and do a little inquiring. This kind of inquisition troubles me. It seems to come right out of the Dark Ages."

   "I've been wondering while you were speaking," said Manly, "if the word 'repentance' was mentioned to either one of you."

   "Of course," snapped Phemeral. "That was precisely

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the issue. They tried to tell me it was the changed will that indicated true repentance. I told them such terms may sound impressive in a theological textbook in their part of the world, but I had some case histories in my briefcase in which the motives were so mixed that you couldn't tell whether it was the will or the heart or the mind or the glands or the hormones that determined the behaviour."

   "But you do think a man needs to repent, don't you?" asked Chris. "Of his wrongdoings, I mean."

   "Not necessarily," replied the doctor. "I don't expect you to be familiar with the latest hermeneutical interpretations, but let me try to summarize. Theologians now consider that all this talk about sinners needing to be converted is not only psychologically unsound, it's completely unbiblical."

   "How could it be unbiblical, when Jesus said, 'Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish'?" asked Hooper.

   "Proof texts mean nothing," announced Phemeral. "They only betray an ignorance of the real teaching of the New Testament, which is that Christ died for all men, therefore all men are restored in Him. That is, all men are saved. They are in the Kingdom right now, and they are no more in need of repentance and conversion than are the fish in that fountain."

   "I don't get it," said Chris.

   "Let me put it in Biblical terminology," continued the doctor. " 'God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself.' That means the world is now his.

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That's all there is to it. What we ought to do is start celebrating!"

   Hooper turned to the doctor's companion. "Did you get into this?" he asked.

   ''Not exactly. I got stuck with some odd types too. They must be short of help around here. This Malay at the gate referred me to a swarthy fellow who said he was from Argentina. He wanted to know if I stood before God with confidence. Can you imagine that?"

   "What did you tell him?"

   "I said of course I did; if a man doesn't have some kind of confidence in himself, he isn't worth a penny. Then we got into a debate about the Bible. He asked if I accepted the authority of the Word of God, and I told him frankly that I did, but I also accepted the consensus of scholarly opinion. I said I wasn't about to throw out the assured results of scientific investigation of Scripture. He didn't seem to like that. He didn't think the assured results were all that sure, he said. He wanted to know if I could make a more positive statement. I was forced to tell him I thought his brains were a little scrambled. So we got nowhere."

   "I'm sorry about this," said Manly. "I would like to help you fellows, but I don't know where to begin. Maybe Mr. Anders does."

   "Why don't we tell them what the Lord did for us?" suggested Chris.

   "Go ahead."

   Chris stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Well, I just got to the end of my rope in Doomsdale, and set out looking for God. I didn't really know what I was

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doing, but I guess the Lord did. Anyway, I went through this transmitter and learned some things about the meaning of faith. Then I went up a hill they called Gordon's Calvary and asked to be forgiven and I put my life in the hands of Christ. Something happened. I can't explain it, but I knew I was born again. So then they gave me a Bible and told me to start travelling, and here I am."

   "I did the same thing, pretty much," added Hooper, "except I'm ashamed to say I fell by the wayside and spent two whole years working for the devil. But now I'm back, and I can tell you it's for keeps. If you would want to—"

   "Your stories are very nice," interrupted Phemeral, "but they are a trifle naive, and I'm afraid they're not going to help us much in our present situation."

   "I agree," said Chris abruptly. "As far as I'm concerned, you've had it."

   "What makes you say that?" demanded Densely.

   "Are you sure you want to know? It's because this is no place for you. There are no tourist traps inside that gate. You'd be bored to death in Life City, if it's what I think it is."

   "Why not let me be the judge of that?"

   "Well, I don't make the rules about who gets in and who doesn't, but I can tell you there's something fishy about some of your ideas."

   "Fishy? In what way?" persisted Densely, now highly indignant.

   "Why, your scheme has got Christ justifying not

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your person, but your actions. He never said He'd do that, so far as I know. I'm not walking through that gate on the red carpet of my good deeds, Mr. Densely, and I'm not crawling in on the broken glass of my remorse. I'm going in on the grace of God, because I'm a sinner and because that's the only way I'll get there. But you never once mentioned your sins. I don't believe you think you're lost or that you deserve hell. You think God loves you because you're so good to Him."

   "You're entitled to your own opinion. Actually it works both ways. He's good to me and I'm good to him."

   "But what it comes down to is, you're being good to yourself. As for your doctor friend, I dare say he knows a whole lot but he can't seem to sort it out. He says Christ died for everybody, so everybody's going to glory. But if I was saved back in Doomsdale, how come I left home? How come everything in my life fell apart? You fellows ought to be honest enough to admit the truth: you've worked out a cheap plastic imitation of salvation. You think you can have all this and Life City too; that you can come to Jesus without going down on your knees; that you can love your neighbour and your neighbours's wife at the same time."

   "Oh, I wouldn't carry situation ethics quite that far, I don't believe," said Phemeral, beginning to smile.

   "Wouldn't you, now? said Chris, turning to him. "Let me say something about your ethics. You and the computers are trying to decide what makes men act right, but you're overlooking the clearest thing

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ever written on the subject, and that's the Bible. I found myself in the Bible, doctor, and I found you too. And I can tell you that's the place to start if you're making a study of human behaviour. Otherwise you're wasting your time, whether you do research in Life City or any place else."

   "Here's another type with brain fever, doctor," said Densely to Phemeral. "Must be an epidemic in these parts."

   "He's right about one thing," replied Phemeral. "We're wasting our time." He stood up and reached for his briefcase.

   "Wait," said Chris. He walked over to Densely, who had also got to his feet. Putting his hand on the man's shoulder, Chris said. "I'm a young Christian with a lot to learn. I didn't mean to offend you—or the doctor—with sharp words. Will you take my apology?"

   "There's nothing to apologize for," said Densely. "Religion does different things to different people."

   Chris took a memory verse packet out of his pocket. "Then will you take this as a present from me?"

   "What is it?"

   "Just some verses."

   "Really!" said Phemeral impatiently.

   "It definitely would help your ethical research," said Manly, turning to him, "if you took a look at Paul's letters."

   "I'll make a note of it," said Phemeral, nodding as he walked toward his car. Awkwardly, Densely took the packet, stuffed it is his pocket and hurried after him.

Chapter Sixteen  ||  Table of Contents