Piercing the Darkness

by Frank E. Peretti

  Mulligan threw open the locker. The plastic bag of marijuana fell out and landed on the floor.

  Mulligan raised an eyebrow. It was no secret that he was getting a kick out of this. “Looks like you filed it in the wrong place, Cole.”

  Ben nodded with full knowledge of what was happening. “Yeah, right, right.” He looked at Leonard. “Next time I’ll have to get a lock on my locker instead of trusting the people I work with.”

  Leonard countered quickly, “Careful what you say, Ben. This could be serious.”

  “Serious? Guys, this is pitiful!” Ben reached for his chest. “Hey, how about it, Harold? I’ll bet you have a spicy report written up already. Don’t worry. You won’t need it. Guys, the game stops here. I’m not playing.” He removed his badge and held it out for Mulligan to take.

  Mulligan took it. “Turn in your uniform by tomorrow.”

  “You got it.”

  Ben went quietly to his desk, removed his gun, radio, and other gear, and set them down. He opened the drawer, removed a New Testament and some other personal items, then slid it shut.

  As he put on his jacket, he realized he had mixed feelings about what had happened—he felt sorrow and anxiety over losing his job, but at the same time elated and relieved. At least he was losing his job for the right reasons. Hopefully the Lord would bless him for that.

  Mulligan and Leonard stood in the hall together, watching him go. He examined their faces for just a moment, and then went out the door.

  THE TWO WEEKS were up. The hearing convened on schedule, at nine o’clock in the morning, in the department of the Honorable Emily R. Fletcher of the Federal District Court, Room 412, the Federal Courthouse, in the city of Westhaven, some sixty miles south of Bacon’s Corner.

  Tom and Ben rode with Mark and Cathy. They challenged the freeway, waited for the lights, made the correct turns, and arrived in Westhaven with just enough time to park in a multistoried concrete parking lot, get their parking stub, dash across the street to the courthouse, and catch a crowded elevator up to the fourth floor where they finally found Room 412.

  Right away, they knew the whole experience was going to be imposing, foreign, frightening, and inscrutable. It was bad enough being in this vast building with heavy marble walls that seemed to close in on you. It was worse to know next to nothing about what was going to happen and how your fate was going to be decided by so many three-piece-suited professionals you’d never seen before. It was even worse than that to find no less than a hundred people crammed into the hall outside the courtroom trying to get in. Who were they, anyway?

  Tom cringed. Many were reporters. They weren’t allowed to bring their cameras in, praise the Lord, but they were certainly gawking at him and muttering, swapping information, scribbling in their notepads. Some artists were there, easels and chalk ready to sketch a quick portrait of these strange Christians from an obscure little town.

  Where was Wayne Corrigan? He said he would meet them here. Oh, there was his hand, waving in the air above a tight circle of reporters. He elbowed his way out of the circle and hurried up to meet them, the reporters following him as if connected to his body with string.

  “Let’s get inside,” he said, sounding desperate. “It’s a zoo out here.”

  They pressed forward into the crowd, and somehow, one step at a time, they made it to the big wooden doors and pushed through.

  Now they were in a cavernous courtroom, with deeply stained woodwork, a thick green carpet, tall, draped windows, and a bench that rose like a mountain in front. The gallery was almost full.

  Corrigan showed Tom and Mark to the defendant’s table; Ben sat with Cathy in the front row of the gallery. Mrs. Fields was already seated there and doing some cross-stitch. Three board members, Jack and Doug Parmenter and Bob Heely, were ready to testify as well.

  Corrigan spoke to Tom and Mark in muffled tones. “The judge may not take any oral testimony, but it’s good to be ready in case. It’s a real circus, let me tell you. The ACFA is here in full force, and the press, and I think some people from the National Coalition on Education. We’re in the hot seat. It’s—”

  Lucy Brandon entered the courtroom, wearing a blue dress and looking very formal. She was flanked by the blonde Claire Johanson and a tall, youthful-looking man, obviously her attorney.

  “That’s Gordon Jefferson, Brandon’s attorney. He’s ACFA.”

  In came an older attorney, his chin high, holding a black briefcase in front of his stomach.

  “Wendell Ames, Brandon’s other attorney, senior partner at Ames, Jefferson, and Morris. His father was the state founder of the ACFA back in the thirties.”

  The four sat at the plaintiff’s table without looking their way.

  “Two attorneys?” Tom asked.

  “They’re out to win. What can I say? I did the best I could with the brief. It only came to twelve pages. The affidavits—the sworn statements of yourselves and Mrs. Fields—seem effective enough, but our Scriptural arguments are going to have trouble standing up against psychological reports. They’ve hired a shrink, you know, some child psychologist named Mandanhi. That’s him sitting in the second row over there.”

  They looked and saw a balding, dark-skinned man of apparent East Indian descent.

  “What did he have to say?” asked Mark.

  “What do you think? He has Amber diagnosed as a sick and traumatized little girl, and it’s all your fault, naturally.”

  “Naturally,” muttered Tom.

  “We’ll see how we do, guys. Just remember, it’s only the first battle, not the entire war.”

  A door to the left of the bench swung open.

  The bailiff stood to her feet and declared, “All rise.”

  They all rose.

  “Court is now in session, the Honorable Emily R. Fletcher presiding.”

  Judge Fletcher was a dignified woman in her fifties with close-cropped blonde hair and a pleasant facial expression. She took her place behind the bench and spoke in clear tones. “Thank you. Please be seated.”

  They sat.

  “The case is Brandon v. The Good Shepherd Academy. Today is a hearing on a temporary injunction issued by this court two weeks ago restraining The Good Shepherd Academy from . . .” She perched her reading glasses on her nose and referred to the documents before her. “‘Outrageous Religious Behavior Against a Child, Physical Abuse by Spanking, Excessive Religious Instruction Harmful to the Child, Harassment, Discrimination, and Religious Indoctrination Using Federal Funds.’ Are counsel ready to proceed?”

  She looked toward Lucy Brandon and her two attorneys.

  Ames stood to his feet. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  She looked toward Tom, Mark, and Wayne Corrigan. “And the defendants . . . are you ready?”

  Corrigan rose and replied in the affirmative.

  She looked over her reading glasses at the crowded courtroom. “This case is obviously one of great public importance and intense public interest. If there are no objections from counsel, the court is prepared to grant permission for the use of cameras and recording devices by the press.”

  Gordon Jefferson stood up immediately. “No objections, Your Honor.”

  Corrigan noticed the immediate headshake from Tom and Mark. He stood. “Your Honor, the defendants would request that no cameras be allowed.”

  Jefferson countered, “Your Honor, as you have observed, this case does reflect matters of great public interest. I think the public would be well served through firsthand information that television can provide.”

  Corrigan whispered to Tom, “The ACFA loves to try cases in the press. They’re going for this one.”

  Judge Fletcher didn’t take long to ponder the issue. “Mr. Corrigan, the court sees no harm in such camera coverage, certainly not so much harm that the importance of public awareness does not outweigh it. Cameras will be allowed.”

  Several reporters bolted from the courtroom to grab their gear.

  The judge flipped to the next
page before her. “I have read the briefs and affidavits presented by both sides in this case. Well done, excellent on both sides, and as one might expect, in sharp dispute. In light of the short time frame, and in the interest of expediency, we will avoid oral testimony if counsel agrees, and hear this case on the basis of the affidavits and oral argument of counsel.”

  Wayne Corrigan whispered to Tom, “It’s okay. It’s to our advantage. They have to meet a higher standard of proof if there’s no oral testimony.” He spoke to the judge. “We have no objection, Your Honor.”

  Ames and Jefferson were still whispering to each other. They didn’t seem too happy about the court’s suggestion. Finally Ames answered, “Uh . . . no objections, Your Honor.”

  The judge seemed pleased with the progress they were all making. “Well then . . . if counsel are ready, Mr. Ames or Mr. Jefferson, you may proceed with your argument.”

  Jefferson rose, buttoning his jacket. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  He walked forward and began to form his argument, wandering back and forth, studying the carpet, waving one hand in the air as if leading a choir. “Your Honor, this is not a difficult case; as the court has seen in the brief and affidavits, the complaints against the Good Shepherd Academy are well-founded. We do believe in religious freedom, of course, and far be it from us to suppose we can infringe on that sacred right. But how, Your Honor, does a child of ten have the power to decide freely in such matters when surrounded by a coercive and repressive environment such as we have found at the Good Shepherd Academy?”

  Tom listened raptly to Jefferson’s speech. The guy was being slanderous, he thought, but selling it all very well. The press was going to eat this up for sure.

  “You have seen the report by Dr. Mandanhi, a distinguished psychologist well-acquainted with emotional trauma in children. He has clearly stated that young Amber has been severely traumatized by the outrageous religious behavior of these people, and has demonstrated such symptoms as illness, headaches, loss of appetite, and bed-wetting, not to mention severe religious delusions and even . . . uh . . . personality disorders which can be attributed to the curriculum taught and example set by the leadership at the Good Shepherd Academy. I must also inform the court that Mr. Harris is currently under investigation by the CPD for possible child abuse, and that his own children have been removed from his home pending that investigation.”

  Corrigan bolted out of his chair. “Objection!”

  “Sustained,” said the judge. “Mr. Jefferson, Child Protection Department matters are strictly confidential and are not to be discussed in open court. You will restrain from any further mention of it.”

  “And in light of just such tactics as this,” said Corrigan, “may I again request that cameras and recording devices be barred from the courtroom?”

  “The request is denied,” said the judge, but then she looked toward the members of the press. “But the press is ordered not to publish anything about that revelation.”

  Corrigan said, “Thank you, Your Honor,” and sat down. He whispered to Tom, “Jefferson knew what he was doing.”

  Jefferson continued, unruffled. “As for the ‘outrageous religious behavior,’ the details are clear in the court file, of course, and I hardly need to comment on the behavior described, that of attempting to cast a demon out of Amber, and even suggesting to an impressionable child that she is possessed by a spirit. Your Honor, this is a most unusual twist, a new and obviously bizarre form of child abuse; this must fall outside the protective umbrella of religious freedom, and we would ask the court to so rule.

  “The physical abuse by spanking is clear enough as well, and even the defendants admit that the spanking did occur. As the court well knows, this practice is already forbidden by the state in any foster homes and in the public schools, and we would suggest that the precedents in law and in society are clear on this issue. This is not proper behavior toward a child, but is another form of abuse, and should also be extricated from under the umbrella of religious freedom.”

  Tom and Mark could see the case forming; this clever lawyer was whittling away at something he repeatedly termed “the umbrella of religious freedom.” It was clear to them that umbrellas had little to do with it—religious freedom itself was the object of his attacks. But Jefferson was good at what he did, they had to admit that. His oratory was forceful, well choreographed, and persuasive. The disturbing thought now was, Is Corrigan going to be able to top it?

  “As for excessive religious instruction,” Jefferson continued, “who can object to teaching basic virtues such as honesty, self-esteem, the Golden Rule? Our difficulty is in the pervasive fundamentalist idea that we are all feeble, despicable, worthless sinners, incapable of any good in ourselves, but dependent on some outside ‘savior’ to lift us out of our personal morass, and without whom we have no hope at all . . . an idea we must suggest is destructive to the mental health and well-being of any child, and Dr. Mandanhi’s report reflects this.

  “To quickly close the matter, and not take any more of the court’s time, the above-mentioned offenses do necessarily constitute a form of harassment and discrimination because no opposing view of these fundamental beliefs is allowed; this is intolerance, of course, and the seedbed of bigotry.

  “But, of course, an even greater legal issue here is that these teachings and indoctrinations are being supported and paid for by federal funds, since Mrs. Brandon is a federal employee and is receiving a child care subsidy under the Federal Day-care and Private Primary School Assistance Act, part of which she has used to pay her daughter’s tuition.”

  Judge Fletcher interrupted. “Counselor, it is the court’s understanding that Amber has now been removed from the school.”

  “Yes, Your Honor, for her own well-being, of course. But we submit that the issue of separation of church and state is still viable since federal funds were used in the religious indoctrination of Amber while attending the school, which would bring the school into accountability to the state. This is covered in detail in our brief on the applicability of the Munson-Ross Civil Rights Act and the Federal Day-care and Private Primary School Assistance Act. While Congress intended to assist working parents with child care, no one in their right mind would argue that federal funds should be used for religious instruction. Our brief shows how legislative history and prior case law make this abundantly clear.

  “Finally, we would ask that the court consider not only Amber, who was fortunate enough to be removed from the school and therefore saved any further harm; we would ask the court to also consider the children still there, still subject to this excessive behavior and instruction, still very much in harm’s way. We don’t know who the other children in the school are and whether or not federal funds are being used to supplement their tuition as well. That is why we are asking the court to order that the defendants produce the name of each child and any financial information concerning the child’s enrollment in the school, in addition to continuing the restraint.

  “Your decision here today will affect the future well-being of the other children also, and therefore we are sure the court will rule in their favor.”

  Jefferson sat down as every television camera in the room followed him to his chair and cameras clicked away.

  Tom and Mark looked at Corrigan. He was hurriedly going over his scribbled notes, apparently hoping for an inspiration. It didn’t seem to be coming to him.

  “Mr. Corrigan?” said the judge.

  Tom gave Corrigan an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Godspeed, brother.”

  Corrigan rose to his feet. This was his moment. He buttoned his jacket as well, not to signal his determination to do battle, but because his nervous hands needed something to do. It also gave him a moment to pray.

  “Your Honor, counsel for the plaintiff has taken great pains to paint a bleak and gruesome picture of the Good Shepherd Academy. We can assure you that things at the school are much different than they’ve been made out to be.

 
; “First of all, we haven’t had a chance to meet with Dr. Mandanhi and discuss his findings, and therefore we can’t be certain that Amber’s problems are entirely due to her attending the school. As we’ve tried to show in the affidavits, she came to the Good Shepherd Academy with some problems already, and I suggest it would not be fair or accurate to attribute all her problems to the environment at the school. We should have the opportunity to have our own expert examine Amber, as I’m sure another expert could balance the report of Dr. Mandanhi.

  “As for corporal punishment, this is certainly not the anachronism that the plaintiff is trying to make it out to be, and we are not going to resolve that issue in this case. Spanking, when administered by loving parents, or by a Christian school headmaster following agreed-upon procedure, is not abuse at all, but proper discipline, and as we have shown in our court file, a matter of Biblical doctrine, a matter of deep religious conviction.

  “Also, I would remind the court that the guidelines for corporal discipline are clearly spelled out in the Academy handbook, and that Mrs. Brandon signed a letter of agreement to those guidelines. Both items are included in our brief, and speak for themselves.

  “So I think this issue of spanking is not at all settled, especially when there can be no doubt that Amber’s punishment was properly and lovingly administered. It would not be fair or accurate to label it as child abuse. To do so would invade the privacy and convictions of millions of parents across this country who still believe in spanking, and yes, there is the matter of religious conviction and religious freedom. These must be protected and should not be infringed upon.

  “We must also object to the plaintiff’s accusation of ‘excessive religious instruction.’ What the plaintiff refers to is a fundamental part of the gospel, but I must remind the court that the gospel is the Good News, not Bad News. The message of the gospel does not leave us all condemned . . . or as counsel for the plaintiff stated, ‘feeble, despicable sinners.’ We believe . . . that is, the doctrinal position of the Good Shepherd Academy is . . . that yes, man is a sinner. He is separated from God because he has transgressed God’s righteous law, and, by himself, has no salvation from his predicament. But this message is never forced or imposed on any child without the positive side of the message, that God sent His Son to pay the price of our sins with His own life, and thereby save us and reconcile us to God.