by Alton Gansky
Adam leaned back and thought. Could it be that simple? It sounded exactly like advice he had given others in similar situations over the years. Apparently, he was too close to the situation to see the obvious.
“Thanks, Dick.” Adam grinned. “I think I’ll do just that. As soon as I get back from L.A., I’ll call her and we’ll have that talk. I appreciate your help.”
“Do you appreciate it enough to pay for my breakfast?” Dick asked and then laughed.
Adam joined the laughter.
IT TOOK JUST OVER two hours for Adam to arrive in L.A. It took another thirty minutes to find the studio where the show would be taped. Identifying himself to a young security guard, he was directed to the guest parking. From there it was a short walk to the studio’s reception area where a young man led him to the makeup room.
A matronly woman dabbed powder on his face and combed his hair. Adam noticed that he was the only one in the room.
“Am I the first here?” Adam asked.
“Oh, no,” the woman said. “The rest have already been through. You’re the last.”
“I’m not late, am I?” Adam was suddenly concerned that he had misunderstood the time he was to be there.
“No. Mr. Phillips wanted to meet with a couple of the guests beforehand.”
Adam wondered why he had been excluded, but then decided he was being paranoid. A short time later Adam was led to the set.
The set was different than the one normally used by the Milt Phillips Show. Instead of the typical setup with a large desk and several chairs in a row, there were four chairs set in a semicircle around a large glass coffee table. Adam was shown where to sit on the stage.
“The director and Mr. Phillips will be here shortly,” his escort said.
For twenty minutes Adam sat alone on the set feeling conspicuous. Cameramen and technicians began arriving and positioning equipment.
“You must be Reverend Bridger,” a loud voice said from nowhere.
Adam looked around to see who had spoken but saw no one nearby. The cameramen continued to ignore him as they went about their duties.
“I’m in the control booth, Reverend,” the voice said. “Look up and to your left.”
Adam did as told. On the next floor above and behind a glass wall stood a man waving. The man wore a headset.
“Go ahead and speak,” the man said. “The set is wired for sound.”
“Yes, I’m Adam Bridger.” He felt a little self-conscious at speaking to the empty room.
“Good. I’m Jerry Williams, the director. Margo, the floor director, and the rest of the folks should be with you in a minute, so just make yourself comfortable. Can I get you some coffee?”
“No thanks. I’m fine.”
“Great. We’ll be starting soon. Margo will get your mike and whatever else you need.”
True to the director’s word, a side door opened and a line of people entered the set. Adam recognized two of them—Milt Phillips and Dr. Charles Cruden. Three others entered whom Adam did not recognize: an extremely tall, thin woman with blond hair; another woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and a squat man in a three-piece suit. The five of them walked directly to the set.
“Reverend Bridger?”
“Yes, Mr. Phillips,” Adam said cordially. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“And I you.” Phillips shook Adam’s hand. “Let me make some introductions. This is Dr. Charles Cruden, our astrophysicist for the program. This lovely young lady,” he said, motioning to the tall woman, “is Amelia Larsons. She teaches New Age philosophy. Over here is Dr. Robert Jennings, a local psychiatrist. Finally, let me introduce Margo, our floor director. Let’s have a seat and talk about today’s show.”
Adam took the seat he had been assigned and watched as the others did the same. Adam thought the seating arrangement had been established with some purpose in mind. He could only guess as to the reasons. Phillips sat in the center. To his left was Dr. Cruden, and to Dr. Cruden’s left Jennings. Adam sat to the immediate right of Phillips, and Amelia to Adam’s right.
“As you all know, our show deals with modern-day miracles,” Phillips said. As he spoke, Margo scurried about clipping lapel microphones to everyone. “The program will be an open forum with dialogue being shared by you folks. I will ask some questions to get us started and will moderate the show. During the last portion of the broadcast, we will take questions from the audience. I hope you will all feel free to say what’s on your mind. Any questions?”
“Audience?” Adam hadn’t thought about an audience being present.
“Yes,” Phillips said. “They’re being seated now.” Adam looked up and saw that a small crowd Was being ushered into the studio.
“Any other questions?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “When will I be able to make my appeal?”
“Oh, yes,” Phillips said. “You made that a contingency, didn’t you? Well, we’ll save some time for you at the end of the program.”
“Three minutes to taping,” the director said from overhead. Everyone waited in silence for the cue from the floor director. Suddenly, Margo held up five fingers that signaled five seconds left before the taping began. The show’s theme song filled the room. With each passing second she brought one finger down until only one remained with which she abruptly pointed at Phillips.
“Good evening,” Phillips said, smiling. “Tonight, we are doing something different on our show: we are having an open discussion on modern-day miracles. Recently, our newspapers have been filled with fantastic stories of miraculous healings in the San Diego area. Stories of burn victims, cancer patients, and others, suddenly being returned to health.
“To help us in our discussion,” Phillips continued, “is the eminent astrophysicist Dr. Charles Cruden of the Jet Propulsion Laboratories in Pasadena; Dr. Robert Jennings, a psychiatrist in private practice and author of Real World Living; the Reverend Dr. Adam Bridger of the Maple Street Community Church in San Diego and pastor to one of the individuals allegedly healed. Also with us today is writer and New Age teacher Amelia Larsons.”
Monitors mounted out of camera range allowed Adam to see what was being recorded. As each individual was introduced, a close-up of their face appeared on the monitor.
“Reverend Bridger,” Phillips said, turning to face Adam, “you are close to the events at Kingston Memorial Hospital, and I understand that you’re helping in the investigation. Just what’s going on down there?”
Adam cleared his throat nervously. “Actually, I’m not an official part of any investigation. I’m involved because one of my members was healed and later mysteriously disappeared.”
“Tell us what happened to your church member—a Mr. Lorayne, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “David Lorayne was admitted to the hospital for surgery. Although the surgery went well, David slipped into a deep coma. He quickly began to waste away; his heartbeat became very irregular and his breathing labored. The doctors had doubts that he would live through the night.”
“Then what happened?” Phillips prodded.
“I was in the hospital to visit with the family. I had just been in the room with David and his wife, but had left to talk to the rest of the family. When I returned, David was sitting up in bed talking.”
“So, he just woke up?” Phillips asked.
“Actually, there’s more to it than that. Had he just awakened, we would have said that he simply came out of the coma. However, there was something else that took us all aback.”
“What was that?”
“As I said earlier, he had gone in for surgery. After his sudden awakening, the doctors examined him. What shocked them the most was that his surgical incision was gone.”
Several in the audience gasped.
“Gone?” Phillips asked.
“Yes. I was there. There was no sign that an incision had ever been made.”
“And you expect us to believe all this?” Cruden said sarcastically.
Since A
dam was aware of Cruden’s acerbic nature, he wasn’t surprised by the sudden sarcasm.
“Actually,” Adam said smoothly, “I have no expectation of you at all. I was asked to tell what happened and I have done so. What you believe or don’t believe is entirely up to you.”
“I, for one, choose not to believe this fairy tale,” Cruden remarked coldly.
“Why?” Phillips asked.
“Because surgical scars simply don’t disappear. It is impossible.”
“Why is it impossible?” Phillips prodded.
“Because it defies known laws of nature. It is too much to believe.”
“How would you explain it, then?” Phillips asked.
“Without a reliable investigation, it would be hard to say, but it could be many things: a promotional gimmick, hysteria, a mix-up in hospital records.”
“Each of your suggestions is equally unbelievable,” Adam interjected. “The nurses had changed his dressing several times and each time they saw the surgical incision. And let’s not forget his wife who was with David immediately before his surgery, and with him continually after. No, in the case of David Lorayne, something supernatural happened.”
“A miracle?” Cruden’s sarcasm was evident to all. “I’m afraid I don’t believe in miracles, Reverend Bridger. I don’t believe in your God, or anyone else’s God. I am an empiricist. I believe only in that which is tangible.”
A few in the audience applauded. Someone shouted, “Right on!”
“In other words,” Adam said, his voice even and controlled, “you only believe in what can be perceived through the five senses.”
“Exactly. All things are rational and measurable.”
“Well,” Adam said smiling, “I don’t think you really believe that. In fact, I think you believe in many intangibles.”
“Such as?”
“Such as emotion,” Adam said matter-of-factly. “You see, Dr. Cruden, not all things are measurable. Take love, for example. Not even the most ardent empiricist would deny that love exists, yet it defies measurement. Can one have a quart of love? Or, a pound of anger? Could you, for example, amass fifty yards of joy? Of course not, yet each of us has experienced these qualities.”
Many in the audience laughed. Dr. Cruden’s face turned crimson red.
“Wait a minute,” Dr. Cruden said pointedly. “I can measure anger. When a person becomes angry their heart rate increases, the amount of adrenaline in their system increases too and, if they’re angry enough, their face may become red as the capillaries expand and raise the skin’s surface temperature.”
“But you’ve not measured anger,” Adam countered. “You’ve described only the physical results of the emotion, and that is the true role of experimental science, describing results. Really, all that science does through its observations and experimentation is to describe the fingerprints of God.”
“But I’ve already told you that I don’t believe in God.”
“What you believe is immaterial to truth. Disbelief does not change reality. You and I may drive down the road in my car and, at great speed, head directly for a large tree. Now you and I could sit in that car as it speeds toward the tree and say that we don’t believe we will get hurt; but the truth of the matter is that when we slam into the tree, we will probably die. At which point your belief in God will be of particular importance.”
A few in the audience applauded again.
“Before we go on,” Phillips said, turning to the camera, “we need to take a commercial break.” The red light on the camera went off. “Excellent, people, excellent. Keep up this intensity, and we will have an exceptional show.”
Cruden said nothing.
“Ten seconds to air time,” Margo said. Ten seconds later one of the camera’s red lights came on.
“We’re back with a fascinating discussion on miracles,” Phillips said to the camera. “In a few moments, we will be going into the audience to hear what they have to say; but for now, let’s return to our panel. Reverend Bridger, perhaps you could tell us exactly what a miracle is.”
“I suppose there are many definitions that could be used, but a good definition would be something like this: A miracle is a supernatural event that achieves some useful purpose and reveals the presence and power of God.”
“So there is purpose to a miracle?” Phillips asked.
“Yes. Take the miracles of Jesus. The Bible records thirty-five miracles that Jesus performed. This is not to say that Jesus performed only thirty-five miracles, but that of the miracles He performed, thirty-five were recorded. Of those rec, nine showed power over nature: walking on the water, turning water into wine in the city of Cana, stilling a storm on the Sea of Galilee, and so on. He also performed six exorcisms, and three times He raised the dead. The vast majority of Jesus’ miracles dealt with healings. Seventeen times it is said that Jesus healed. Almost all of Jesus’ miracles dealt with human suffering.”
Cruden remarked, “I’m sure you know that many of the miracles in the Bible have been shown to be impossible.”
“They’re all impossible,” Adam said. “That’s why we call them miracles.”
The audience roared with laughter.
“What I’m saying, Reverend Bridger, is that certain miracles can scientifically be shown to have never occurred.”
“I’d like to hear this,” Phillips said.
Cruden continued, “Take, for example, the story of Joshua’s prayer that the sun would stand still in the sky so that he might carry on a battle. As we all know, it is the earth’s spin on its axis that makes the sun appear to rise and set. So, for the sun to stop in the sky, the earth must cease its rotation.”
Cruden was speaking as though he were lecturing a class of freshmen in basic astronomy.
“Suppose that this God of yours decides to help Joshua out by stopping the earth’s rotation. What would we find? Well, first of all, since the earth spins at a little over 1000 miles per hour at the equator, if the earth were to stop its spinning suddenly, then all those things not securely attached would fly off at the same speed. We call that inertia. Your Joshua and everyone else on the planet would go careening into trees, mountains and the like. Also, things like cave stalagmites and stalactites, many of which date past the age of Joshua, would be broken off in their caves; but when we visit the caves of the world, we find those geological formations resting comfortably in their places.”
Cruden continued. “But that’s not all. We can show through mathematics and physics that if the earth stopped spinning on its axis, it would generate enough heat to boil water. No one could live through such temperatures.”
Phillips turned to Adam. “Well, Reverend Bridger, what do you make of that? Do you dispute Dr. Cruden’s conclusions?”
“No.” Adam said flatly.
Phillips was surprised. “So you agree that such a miracle could not have taken place?”
“Not at all. It is not his conclusions that are at fault, but, rather, his initial assumption.” Adam turned his attention to Cruden. “You see, Dr. Cruden, you began your discussion with the assumption that there was a God who was powerful enough to stop the earth’s spin, and that that same God was motivated to do so. Is that not true?”
“Yes,” Cruden said tentatively.
“I’m afraid you don’t give that God much credit. If God is capable of doing such a great feat, and reasonable enough to want to do so, then doesn’t it also follow that God would take into account the problems such an act would create? You see, the Joshua miracle is more than one miracle. God not only stopped the earth’s spin, but also allowed for the results of such an act and accounted for them. The God of the Bible would not stop the earth from spinning and then snap His fingers and say, ‘Oops’ when people began crashing into trees and hills. If you allow a God powerful enough and intelligent enough to be able to perform such a feat, then you also must allow for a God who is intelligent enough to compensate for difficulties caused by His act of power.”
&nb
sp; The stage was silent. A moment later Phillips said, “We’ll be right back after these messages.”
Phillips directed questions to the psychiatrist, Dr. Robert Jennings, who spoke of the mind’s ability to make one well or ill, and insinuated that the healings were a result of psychological processes. Phillips asked how so many occurrences could happen in the same hospital and at about the same time. Jennings had no answer. Phillips further asked how surgical scars and scorched flesh could be simply willed away, and again Jennings had no answer.
Adam had to agree with Phillips. “We’re not dealing with psychosomatic illnesses. The people healed have had dramatic reversals of illness and trauma.”
“The mind is a powerful thing, Reverend Bridger,” Jennings said. “Certain Eastern mystics are able to control their breathing and heart rate in an incredible fashion. I have personally witnessed a practitioner of Eastern meditation enter a three-foot-square acrylic box, place himself in a hypnotic suspended animation, and then have the box anchored and submerged in a swimming pool for nearly half an hour. When brought back to the surface, he slowly climbed out of the cube and was none the worse for wear. Now, those who lack training might assume that the man worked a miracle.”
“I’ll agree that the mind is a wonderful and powerful thing,” Adam replied. “I also agree that we have much to learn about its operation and powers, but all your mystic did was control certain biological functions—granted to a marvelous degree—but he did not exchange scorched flesh for whole. He did not turn a body rendered nearly useless by disease into a normally functioning one as we have seen recently. No, we are not dealing with psychosomatic workings; we are seeing a genuine miracle. These are miracles I can’t explain, but they are miracles.”
“That’s superstitious, hogwash,” Cruden snapped. “And if I weren’t on television and in the presence of ladies, I would describe in more colorful terms.”
Amelia Larsons spoke for the first time: “Don’t restrain yourself on my account. Not only could I endure your colorful language, I might even be able to use enough of my own to put a tinge of red in your cheeks.” The crowd laughed uproariously. Adam had to work at not laughing out loud himself.
