“I think so. You’ll have to rummage through them.”
He offered his back and let the priest withdraw his lunch.
“While you’re back there, can you grab me turkey?”
“I don’t see any turkey. How’s ham?”
“That’s fine. Can you zip me up when you’re done? We’re the last ones.”
Jake turned, and Andrew handed him his sandwich.
“Thanks for hanging out with us.”
“I’m glad you invited me. It’s beautiful up here.”
“That’s why we come up here. When do I have to give you back to Bishop Francis?”
“I’ve got another week. I’m on vacation now.”
“I didn’t know priests got vacations.”
“We’re human like everyone else.”
“You’re welcome to hang out with the gang. We’ve got a few activities planned.”
“I’m not sure everyone was happy about me being aboard. My guess is that they’ll want you to reconsider before trying to bring me on a future deployment.”
“I wasn’t entirely sure I was happy about having you aboard, either. You spooked me out when you were offering confessions.”
“Thankfully, it was an unnecessary gesture.”
“What’s your overall sense of things?”
Andrew collected his thoughts.
“Your anger was in check,” he said. “You told me that was your worry, but I didn’t see it except for rare moments.”
“I surprised myself. Maybe I’m getting old and mellow.”
“There’s more to it than that. You can remain angry and bitter at any age. Something positive must have happened to you.”
“I suppose.”
“Did this experience help you gain any clarity on your personal philosophy?”
“Every time I flirt with death it makes me think about the value and purpose of life.”
“I know what you mean about flirting with death. I couldn’t understand it when you explained it in Michigan, but after living it, I get it. I’m curious, though, if you feel closer to God.”
Jake felt calmer than he could remember as an alarm on his phone reminded him to take anti-retroviral drugs.
“I hadn’t thought of it much, but I guess so.”
“Linda has told me about your anger issues. So did some of your shipmates. So I know they’ve been real. But you seemed anything but driven by anger. You were driven by purpose.”
“I can’t argue. It just seems weird. I don’t feel angry now, either, but I’m afraid I can erupt at any second.”
“You said you stopped drinking. That could be a factor working in your favor.”
Checking himself for an urge for inebriation, he found none.
“I used a drug called Naltrexone in the Sinclair Method, and I swear by it. I understand there are other processes and drugs interventions that work, but I know what worked for me.”
By habit, he downed his medications with a swig of water.
“I suppose I’m also no longer living in fear of an early death from a virus that someone else gave me out of malice.”
“You never mentioned that.”
“I got the virus from an old captain during a blood transfusion. Then he tried to blame me for giving him HIV, and everyone sided with him. My career was over in a blaze of false accusations and shame, and that’s pretty much the whole reason I went temporarily insane and stole a submarine in the first place.”
“That’s a good reason to be angry. I don’t know about stealing a submarine, though.”
“That’s how angry I was. I obviously had issues before that, too, that made me an angry person. But now it’s just a bad memory and a daily pill regimen.”
“Maybe you can enjoy being less shackled by anger. That should help you focus on the positive things in your daily life and give you a new perspective.”
“Just like that?”
“Not just like that. I think you’ve already started subconsciously. You can keep it going consciously now.”
“I guess I can give it a shot. What are you talking about? Daily affirmations? Positive thinking exercises?”
“Sort of. Would you do me one favor for yourself?”
“That’s a weird request, but probably.”
“I’d like you to act Catholic for three months. You’ve had the catechism training. So why not come back to the Church and experience the full deposit of faith? I think you’re in a place now where you can get out of crisis mode and explore and live your philosophy.”
Jake tried to sidestep the commitment.
“I know it would make Linda happy,” he said.
“I think it would help you, too. You don’t have to lie or make pretenses. You can attend Mass as long as you are believing in Christ’s message to the best of your ability.”
He recalled the simplest pragmatic reason to favor Christ.
“Even if I’m just doing it for no greater reason than, say, Pascal’s Wager?”
“That’s fine as a starting point. If you reject Christ as your savior and you’re wrong, you’re in Hell for eternity. But it costs you nothing to seek to believe in God. So why not seek to believe?”
“It’s not that simple,” Jake said. “I know I brought up the wager, but you have to consider the other religions that would condemn me if I choose Christ. For example, if Islam is correct, then believing in Christ as the Son of God would condemn me, and Pascal’s Wager is an incomplete statement.”
“You’ve read the Bible and the Qur’an, haven’t you? You’re one of the best read laymen I know.”
He reflected upon the encyclopedias of philosophy he had digested. With independent wealth, he enjoyed exploring mankind’s ultimate question. He wanted to know the truth about why humankind existed.
“That’s a good point. The historicity of the Qur’an doesn’t stack up for me. To buy into Islam, you’d need to produce a book older than the Bible that denies Christ’s divinity while upholding the parts about the miracles. Nobody can produce that evidence, and I’m only going as far as the evidence. On the other hand, there’s a metric ton of it supporting the Bible’s books.”
“The historicity of the Bible in terms of ancient copies and corroboration with other sources is orders of magnitude greater than that of any other work of antiquity. It was a part of my decision to follow Christ, even before analyzing the content.”
Jake reflected through the other religions that required deviations from Christian philosophy for salvation. The ancient document archive was lacking for all he had studied.
“I agree that Pascal’s Wager is a good enough framework to make me seek to believe.”
“So I’ll see you in Mass?”
“Why can’t I just go to a nondenominational church, or Lutheran, or Methodist, or Baptist, or Episcopal or et cetera et cetera? You and Bishop Francis have been great to Linda and me, but isn’t Christ available pretty much anywhere?
“I can guarantee you His presence in the Eucharist at Mass, but He’s anywhere He wants to be.”
“I’m not ready or even thinking that I want to go back to the Catholic Church. I heard the message there in my childhood, and it didn’t stick. I want to hear the message from different sources.”
“I’m happy as long as you get closer to Jesus.”
“Okay. I’ll make the effort.”
He heard his boss’ voice.
“Jake!” Renard said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Will you join us? I’m going to share my news. We’re huddled together on the other side of the summit.”
“I’ll be right there.”
He excused himself, walked by the cross, and then knelt with the Goliath’s top two officers, Henri, Remy, and Renard. The bodyguards lingered outside the circle.
“No reading material?” Jake asked.
“We’re not diving into any great detail. I just wanted to share some important high-level thoughts. I could have done this somewhere else, but I thought this would be a worthy venue for highlighting the bright outlook I see for us.”