God's Not Dead 2

by Travis Thrasher

  “On what basis?” Judge Stennis asks.

  “Prejudicial testimony, Your Honor. Not probative. We consider the value of anything he might say to be outweighed by the likelihood of confusing the issues or misleading the jury.”

  They’ve done their homework like I knew they would.

  Thank you, Pastor Dave, for giving the defense more time and for trading places with an extra from the set of Twilight.

  “Your Honor, my first witness testified as to the existence of Jesus,” I say without waiting. “The purpose of this witness is to establish that the disputed statements made by Ms. Wesley represent an accurate account of what, according to eyewitness testimony, Jesus actually said.”

  The judge doesn’t look sold. “I still fail to see the relevance,” he says.

  I nod. “If we can prove that Ms. Wesley limited her discussion to actual statements made by an actual historic figure, then the issue of ‘preaching’ disappears . . . and the plaintiff’s argument collapses.”

  I turn and face Kane and his team, looking like a nice set of expensive window dressing again today.

  “Unless, of course, Mr. Kane is willing to concede the text of the Gospels as valid eyewitness testimony?”

  I hear the low chuckle from him. “We most certainly do not make such a concession.”

  “And hence the need for my witness.”

  “Mr. Kane, your motion is denied. The witness may take the stand.”

  After Wallace is sworn in, I begin the questions. “Would you state your name and experience for the record?”

  “James W. Wallace, former homicide detective for the county of Los Angeles. I was on the force for over twenty-five years. I now consult with the district attorney’s office.”

  I grab a book off my table and hold it up. “Are you the author of this book, Cold-Case Christianity?”

  He nods. “I am.”

  I hand it to him. “Could you also read the book’s subtitle for the court?”

  He doesn’t have to look at the cover. “A Homicide Detective Investigates the Claims of the Gospels.”

  I walk over to the jury box, and as I do I look at Ms. Green. She displays no reaction to what’s happening. I turn back and face the stand.

  “Mr. Wallace, would I be correct in saying that your duties as a homicide detective consisted of investigating cold-case homicides?”

  A definitive nod once again. “You would. That was my area of expertise.”

  He’s even better than I imagined he’d be up there.

  “Don’t most of those cases get solved by DNA evidence?”

  “Objection: leading. Counsel is testifying.”

  I don’t even wait for the judge to respond. “I’ll rephrase. How many of your cold-case homicides were solved through the use of DNA evidence?”

  “None. Not one.”

  I feign a complete and utter bafflement at this.

  “That happens a lot on TV. But my department never had the good fortune of solving a cold case with DNA.”

  “Then what was the most common way those cases got solved?”

  “Often by carefully examining witness testimony from years earlier, at the time of the crime. Even though by the time of our reinvestigation the witnesses and often the officers who first took their statements were dead.”

  Clear and concise answers. That’s good. That’s understandable. That’s what we need.

  “Forgive my ignorance, Mr. Wallace . . . but how is that possible?” I ask.

  “Well, there are a number of techniques available to us when testing the reliability of eyewitness statements,” Wallace says. “One approach, for example, is to employ a technique known as Forensic Statement Analysis. That’s the discipline of scrutinizing a witness’s statements: what they choose to stress . . . or minimize . . . or omit completely. Their choices of pronouns, verb tenses, descriptions of what they saw and heard, how they compress or expand time—it’s all more revealing than people realize. By going back and closely inspecting the testimony of various witnesses—noting the correlations, separating seeming inconsistencies from actual inconsistencies—we can often figure out who’s telling the truth, who’s lying, and who the guilty party is.”

  I stand in front of him and casually ask, “Did you apply this skill set at any time outside of your official capacity?”

  “Yes. I decided to approach the death of Jesus at the hands of the Romans using my experience as a cold-case detective. And I approached the Gospels as I would any other forensic statement in a cold case. Every word was important to me. Every idiosyncrasy stood out.”

  “And what did you conclude?”

  “Within a month of beginning my detailed study of Mark’s Gospel, I concluded the text reliably represented Peter’s testimony about Jesus. Eyewitness testimony, when properly tested, is powerful evidence in a court of law. Within a matter of months, as I tested the Gospels from a cold-case perspective, I concluded that all four Gospel accounts were written from different perspectives, containing unique details that are specific to eyewitnesses.”

  I start to walk back to my table. It’s always a nice feeling to be right here in this central point. It’s like looking through the scope on a rifle just before pulling the trigger. There’s this sense of clarity and calculation.

  “Mr. Wallace, did you consider the idea that the four accounts might be part of a conspiracy designed to promote belief in a fledgling faith?”

  “Of course,” he states in a believable tone. “It’s one of the first things you consider with any set of witness statements, and I’ve investigated many conspiracy cases. There are several common characteristics of successful conspiracies, however, and I don’t find any of these attributes were present in the first century for those who claimed to be witnesses of Jesus’ life, ministry, and resurrection.”

  “Can you explain some of these attributes for us?”

  “Certainly. Successful conspiracies typically involve the smallest possible number of coconspirators. It’s a lot easier for two people to tell the same lie and keep a secret than it is for fifty. Conspiracies are also more likely to succeed when they only have to be maintained for a short period of time. It’s easier to keep a secret for a day than it is for a year.”

  A quick scan of the jurors reveals that they’re all listening and paying attention.

  “Successful conspiracies are also typically untested and unpressured,” Wallace continues. “If no one is pressuring you to tell the truth, you can keep a secret for a long time. But there’s something even more important: coconspirators need to be able to communicate quickly with one another. If one conspirator gets questioned, he’ll need to match his statements to his or her accomplices. And that’s the problem with conspiracy theories related to the first Christians. There were simply too many of them, having to tell and keep the lie for too long, separated by thousands of miles without any modern ability to communicate with each other quickly. Worse yet, they were pressured beyond words. They suffered and died for their testimony. Not a single one ever recanted their claims, even in this impossibly difficult environment. So conspiracy theories related to the apostles are simply unreasonable, and they aren’t reflected in the nature of the Gospels. What I see instead are attributes of reliable eyewitness accounts, including numerous examples of what I refer to as unintended eyewitness support statements.”

  He’s good. And like an Energizer Bunny, he’ll keep going, and going, and . . .

  “What is an unintended eyewitness support statement?”

  Jim adjusts his gaze and then answers by talking to the jurors. “There are times when one witness’s statement raises more questions than it seems to answer. But when we eventually talk to the next witness, the second witness will unintentionally provide us with some detail that helps make sense of the first witness’s statement. True eyewitness statements often include this kind of unintentional eyewitness support.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Can you give us an example of this in the Gosp
els?”

  “Sure,” he says as he grabs the Bible from the judge’s bench. “In describing Jesus’ examination before the former high priest Caiaphas on the night before his crucifixion, Matthew’s Gospel relates the following: ‘Then they spat in His face and beat Him with their fists; and others slapped Him, and said, “Prophesy to us, You Christ; who is the one who hit You?”’”

  Jim looks up and stares at me with thoughtful eyes framed in those specs. He keeps going with his explanation. “This question seems odd since Jesus’ attackers were standing right in front of him. Why would they ask him, ‘Who is the one who hit You?’ It doesn’t seem like much of a challenge. That is, until we read what Luke tells us: ‘Now the men who were holding Jesus in custody were mocking Him and beating Him, and they blindfolded Him and were asking Him, saying, “Prophesy, who is the one who hit You?”’”

  I look over at the jurors and hope they’re still with us despite the Bible readings. I know I grew up with an aversion to hearing them. Of course, that was because of the guy reading them to his son.

  “Luke tells us Jesus was blindfolded,” Jim says. “Now Matthew’s testimony makes sense. And so one gospel eyewitness unintentionally supports the other. That’s an example of interconnectedness on a surface level. But there are others that go much deeper.”

  How about you explain every one and exhaust the jurors with so much historical information that they relent and tell Grace she’s innocent.

  “So how would you best summarize the overall results of your research?” I ask.

  My witness adjusts his frames for a moment. “After years of intense scrutiny and applying a template I use to determine if eyewitnesses are reliable, I conclude that the four Gospels in this book contain a series of eyewitness accounts of the actual words of Jesus.” Wallace holds up the Bible as if to clarify what he’s specifically talking about.

  “And that includes the statements quoted by Ms. Wesley in her classroom?” I ask.

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  I nod and smile. “Thank you, Detective.” Then, to Kane, “Your witness.”

  Kane stands up looking extra stiff and pompous. He buttons his suit coat, probably without even realizing he’s doing it. I imagine he does this as often as I look down and see the stains on my shirt or pants, like the huge one I’m sporting today. Kane walks over to the stand with Napoleon-like strides.

  “Detective, I’m not going to try to match Bible knowledge with you. But isn’t it true the Gospel accounts vary widely in what they say? Aren’t there numerous discrepancies between the accounts?”

  “Absolutely,” Wallace answers. “Which is exactly what we’d expect.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Reliable eyewitnesses always differ slightly in their accounts. When two or more witnesses see the same event, they usually experience it differently and focus on different aspects of the action. Their statements are influenced greatly by their unique interests, backgrounds, and perspectives. My goal in assessing the Gospels was simply to determine whether they represent valid, reliable eyewitness testimony in spite of any apparent differences between accounts.”

  Kane does his best to show the entire room his reaction, which looks a bit like he just heard a five-year-old say he’s about to fly to the moon.

  “As a devout Christian, did you feel like you succeeded with this determination?”

  Your first misstep, Peter.

  “Oh, Mr. Kane, I’m afraid you misunderstand. When I started my study, I was a devout atheist. I approached the Gospels as a committed skeptic, not a believer.”

  The flat reaction on Kane’s face tells me he’s stunned and annoyed. The quick look over to Simon and Elizabeth at his table resembles a sports-nut father staring at his son after he strikes out with bases loaded in the ninth.

  Jim Wallace is good. He decides to take advantage of the moment and keep sharing. “You see, I wasn’t raised in a Christian environment, but I think I have an unusually high amount of respect for evidence. I’m not a Christian today because I was raised that way or because it satisfies some need or accomplishes some goal. I’m simply a Christian because it’s evidentially true.”

  “Motion to strike, Your Honor,” Kane barks out.

  “Granted. The jury is instructed to ignore Detective Wallace’s last remarks.”

  I have to hide my smile.

  Good job.

  “No further questions.”

  Kane wants to get out of there before more damage is done.

  The judge excuses the witness. I give Wallace a nod to show my thanks and appreciation as he walks past. I expect Judge Stennis to wrap things up for the day and share the timeline of closing arguments, but the door cracking open behind us gets everybody’s attention. I can’t help looking back like the rest of the room.

  Brooke Thawley is racing to the front of the courtroom. She looks as confident and self-righteous as Kane himself.

  Uh-oh.

  I thought we were ending on a strong note. Maybe not a high, but at least a good place to stand while the jury members consider the details and the facts. Facts.

  Brooke stops at the spectator rail and then starts to speak. But it sounds a lot more like yelling. “She didn’t do anything wrong,” she shouts out. “She was trying to help me.”

  I don’t think any of this is going to help me.

  45

  THERE’S CHAOS in the courtroom, and it takes Amy a few moments to realize it’s Brooke Thawley’s fault.

  Where’d she come from?

  Amy was writing down thoughts on the last witness and heard the door behind her crack open but didn’t think anything about it. It was only when she heard the girl’s voice that she looked up to see what was happening.

  Brooke was in front of her, screaming that the teacher didn’t do anything wrong, that she was just trying to help her, that she was innocent.

  Amy watches the judge wield his gavel and whack it with attempts to restore order. The bailiff moves toward Brooke to escort her out of the court. Everyone is looking at the teenager in complete surprise.

  “Order—I’ll have order,” Judge Stennis shouts. “Young lady, your youth is no excuse for disturbing the sanctity of this court.”

  “This case is supposed to be about me,” Brooke shouts around the bailiff blocking her from the judge. “I’m almost seventeen years old, so it’s not like I can’t think for myself. But I don’t even have the right to speak.”

  Wish I had that kind of guts at her age.

  “You’re not allowed to speak unless you’re called as a witness, young lady.”

  Amy wonders when the judge is going to call her a whippersnapper. She can see Tom leaning in to Grace and asking her questions.

  He’s probably wondering if he should put her on the stand. Probably wondering what he’ll hear.

  Whatever Grace tells him makes the decision.

  “Your Honor, we would like to call Miss Brooke Thawley to the stand.”

  Now it’s Kane’s time for an eruption. “Objection, Your Honor!” His words echo all over the room. “Miss Thawley is a minor—her parents are her guardians and don’t want her subjected to the emotional pressure of testifying against her own teacher.”

  The judge seems to be the only one in the courtroom with any calm sense. “Mr. Kane, I’ll rule on your objection in a moment.” He turns his ponderous gaze to Brooke. “Miss Thawley, are you willing to testify on your own behalf?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you understand that you’ll have to answer all questions truthfully—regardless of your feelings? And that failure to do so is punishable by law?”

  Amy sees the young woman’s head nod, her body language strong and defiant. “I’m not afraid of telling the truth. I’m only afraid of not being allowed to tell it.”

  “I’ll allow the witness,” the judge says. “Objection overruled.”

  Kane gives a look of disbelief. It’s one that Amy feels too.

  She d
oubts this is going to go well.

  It takes Tom a while to get his bearings. He asks Brooke to introduce herself and talk about her parents and school. Amy writes a note on her pad.

  Tom’s stalling ’cause he’s probably freaking out.

  Eventually the lawyer gets around to asking a legitimate question that might start to help his case.

  “Brooke, in class—who first brought up the name of Jesus: you or Ms. Wesley?”

  “I did.”

  Brooke looks unusually mature for a high school junior.

  “Was this part of a question you were asking?” Tom asks.

  “Yes.”

  “And at that time, did you feel like you were asking a faith-based question?”

  “No, not at all,” she says, sounding earnest and heartfelt. “It just seemed like Martin Luther King Jr. and Jesus were saying similar things, so I brought it up.”

  Amy notices that Tom is feeling more comfortable now as he moves around. He stops close to Brooke, talking as if he might be teaching a group of high school students.

  “And did you consider Ms. Wesley’s response to be a reasonable answer to your question?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if I’m hearing you correctly, you asked a question in history class—regarding a historical figure—and your history teacher answered it in a sensible manner?”

  “Yes.”

  That’s what this whole case is about. Amy knows just like everybody else that the key is whether they’ll agree that Jesus was indeed a historical figure.

  Tom has asked enough, so he tells Kane he can question her.

  When the opposing lawyer stands, Amy notices that there’s some kind of energy in his step. It’s like he just drank a Red Bull. She can’t see his face, but Amy bets he’s got a spark in his eyes. One that was gone just a few minutes ago.

  “Hello, Miss Thawley. It’s a pleasure to have you join us.”

  The sarcasm is noted by Brooke. She gives him a fake smile.

  “So, tell us, Miss Thawley. You like Ms. Wesley, don’t you?”

  She answers with a very confident yes.

  “Would you say she’s your favorite teacher?”