Belief

Rev. Bradley was walking downtown early one morning, on the way to a speaking engagement, when he heard a voice calling his name. The tall, thin pastor stopped and turned around, trying to figure out who had called out to him. Few people were out this early and he spotted the man almost immediately: a young, neatly-dressed individual with scruffy red hair.

“Good morning, Silas!” the pastor said as he shook the young man’s hand. “What brings you out so early on this fine and blessed morning?”

“Oh, I’ve got an appointment at the student loan office,” Silas replied. “Nothing too important. And you?”

“I’ve been invited to address the Lighthouse group at the college campus – they’ve asked me to come and speak to them about some issues going on in their lives. It’s exciting to watch the Lord at work.”

“Yeah, whatever. Say, Reverend: why do you bother with all that, anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know. I’ve been to your church before – don’t think I haven’t! – and while that’s all nice and good, I see that you keep trying to force your beliefs onto other people. You’re always going around and telling people that their beliefs just aren’t good enough. Why don’t you just stick to your crowd and leave other people alone?”

The thin pastor thought a moment before replying. “Do you remember how we met?”

Silas grinned, shaking his head. “Of course! I’ll never forget.”

“What happened that morning?”

“Oh, well, you know. We were in the park that morning, and you were – where were you – sitting in the park with your family. A little girl – I forget her name – had wandered into the road, and a big truck was headed her way. I went out, grabbed her, and pulled her away just in time. You came over to make sure that everything was ok and invited me to your church.”

“But why did you do it?” the pastor asked.

“What do you mean?” Silas replied.

“Why did you try to pull her out of the path of that truck?”

“If I hadn’t have acted she would have been killed instantly! That truck driver didn’t even see her. He didn’t even try to slow down.”

“But maybe she didn’t believe in trucks, Silas. How could you be sure that she even knew what a truck was?”

Silas gave the pastor an odd look. “What are you talking about, man? It doesn’t matter! If that truck hit her then she would have died on the spot.”

“But Silas,” the pastor said, “maybe she didn’t see the truck coming. The truck wouldn’t have harmed her if she didn’t know about it. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“Are you crazy? The moment that truck hit her – bam! – that would have been it. There’s no way she could have survived.”

“I just don’t know, Silas,” Rev. Bradley said thoughtfully. “She may have been a student of Eastern mysticism. Perhaps she believed that the road could be shared by both her and the truck – that mutual exclusions were a Western concept. By moving her you could have robbed her of an attempt to validate her beliefs.”

“You’re nuts,” Silas said. “Don’t you know anything? If you get run over by a truck that is moving at a high rate of speed then are you dead – d e a d, dead. Right there. Whether she saw it coming or not. What she knew about trucks didn’t matter a bit. I knew it would kill her, so I stepped in to save her.”

“Ah,” the pastor said. “I see.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Silas said. “You didn’t answer my question! Why do you bother with all that preaching stuff?”

“I’m with you, Silas,” Rev. Bradley said. “I think it’s a good idea to warn people that they are in the path of an oncoming truck – it’ll kill them for sure if they don’t escape.”

With that, he walked briskly down the street.