14

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Finney began. He thought it was clever that the show’s producers had asked the set extras to sit in the jury box along with some employees of the Paradise Island resort. It gave him somebody to focus on, somebody to think about other than the four contestants shooting daggers at him from their counsel tables. Finney had drawn the short straw. Somebody had to go first. “I could talk to you today about the contrasting philosophies of the various religions. Or I could explain the historic tenets and doctrines of the Christian faith. Or argue about ways that Christianity has made the world better. But this occasion is too important and my time is too short to spend it that way.”

Finney leaned forward on the podium that separated him from the jury. Judge Javitts had said the advocates could pace the courtroom if they liked, but Finney believed in protocol. If the jury wanted flamboyant, they would be hearing from the Swami soon enough.

“Instead, I want to talk to you about a man named Jesus. Because to accept Him is to accept the Christian faith, and to reject Him is to reject the Christian faith. And because He is, with all due respect to the other religions represented here today, the single-most-important figure in world history.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Finney could see Kareem bristle, but he couldn’t worry about hurt feelings. Eight minutes was not a lot of time.

“Nobody taught like Jesus,” Finney said. And he waited a few seconds for that to sink in. “Two thousand years ago, in a chauvinistic and intolerant society, Jesus broke down long-standing barriers based on sex, nationality, and occupation. His followers included a tax collector and a former harlot. He ministered to the ‘untouchables’ of His day, those with leprosy. A few years after His death, the leading advocate for the early church, a man named Paul, summed it up this way: ‘There is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’

“But that’s not all. In a society characterized by ‘might makes right,’ at a time when His own people expected Him to lead a military revolt against the Roman Empire, Jesus taught His disciples to turn the other cheek. He told them to love their enemies and pray for those who persecuted them. He told them that great leaders must first be humble servants. And He washed the feet of His disciples.”

Finney turned and walked to the counsel table where Skyler Hadji sat between Drs. Ando and Kline. He gestured toward Hadji, the only one who seemed to be enjoying the judge’s performance. “Even one of this man’s icons, Mahatma Gandhi, recognized the inspired nature of Jesus’s teaching. ‘It is the Sermon on the Mount that endeared Jesus to me,’ Gandhi once said. And on another occasion, speaking about the Christian religion, he said, ‘I like their Christ; I don’t like their Christians.’

“And many times, Mr. Hadji, I have to agree with him.” Finney thought he noticed a slight nod from Hadji. Could it be this easy?

Emboldened, the judge made a sweeping gesture toward the others. “What man or woman here would say that Jesus was not an inspired teacher, an enlightened prophet, light-years ahead of His time both morally and ethically?” Finney waited in silence, each second driving home his point, until finally he turned back to the jury.

And then it hit. The worst timing possible. He reached for the glass on his counsel table and took a quick drink of water, but nothing could stop it. Finney had been finding it increasingly hard to catch his breath during these coughing spells, and today was no exception. He coughed and hacked for a moment, his face flushing with the effort, until at last he regained his composure and smiled at the jury.

“Sometimes I even choke myself up,” he said, but only one or two even gave him a token smile. How many times had he told lawyers that the courtroom was no place for humor?

“Where was I? Oh yeah—nobody taught like Jesus. Nobody lived like Him, either. Jesus was a prophet who backed up His teaching with His life. But there’s more to Him than that. Because nobody died like Him.”

Finney settled in behind the podium again as he talked about the suffering and death of Jesus. He briefly explained the horrible Roman practice of crucifixion and the reason that Jesus willingly took His place on the cross.

“What other founder of a world religion died so that His followers might live? Others died in a state of meditation or from an unexpected sickness, but who else allowed Himself to be nailed to a tree so that His followers might find favor with God?”

“Four minutes, Mr. Finney,” said the voice of God from the judge’s bench.

That guy needs to go to judge school—learn a little courtroom decorum.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Finney said.

“And nobody rose like Jesus,” Finney continued, gathering steam as he approached his final point. This would be his strength—his specialty, if he had one. Finney had always believed that the one thing that distinguished Christianity was the ironclad proof of the Resurrection. He had devoted a whole chapter to it in The Cross Examination of Jesus Christ. “It all rises or falls with the third day,” Finney sometimes said, though he knew better than to use anything that hokey in this setting.

He mentioned a few factors supporting the reliability of the gospel witnesses—the archaeology that confirmed the Gospel accounts and the twenty-four thousand ancient manuscripts, including more than fifty-five hundred Greek manuscripts, that contained and verified various portions of the New Testament records. Plus, Finney said, the Gospel accounts have the “ring of truth—the ragged edges that reflect the way things happen in real life.”

“Why else, at a time when women were prohibited from testifying in a court of law, would the Gospel writers say women first discovered the empty tomb? Why else would they paint the disciples as scared and skeptical followers of Christ—men who returned to their jobs after Christ died, not believing that He would actually come back from the dead?”

Finney’s questions started flowing faster as he noticed the judge glance down at his watch. “Did you know that for more than sixteen hundred years nobody even suggested the tomb was not empty? How could the early church have started in Jerusalem, just a stone’s throw from the tomb, if Christ’s body were lying in the grave? Peter’s powerful sermon on the day of Pentecost, when three thousand souls were saved in one day, would have been categorically refuted by the decaying body of Jesus Christ in a nearby tomb.”

Finney stopped and caught his breath, moved out from behind the podium, and lowered his tone. “Those who contest His resurrection today tend to gravitate toward one of two theories. Some say the whole Resurrection thing is a legend, cooked up by the church years after the life of Christ. Others say it is a conspiracy or fraud, cobbled together by the disciples so they could take their place at the head of a major world religion.

“The legend theory is easy to refute. Some distinguished scholars have spent their entire lives studying things like the length of time that it takes for a legend to develop. According to their research, it takes a minimum of two generations, with no written documentation in existence, for a legend to develop that will supersede the actual facts.

“Think about it in a context we can more readily understand. Let’s say I’ve never argued a case in front of the Supreme Court. If somebody wanted to create a legend about me, saying I won twenty straight cases there, would they be able to do it within thirty years of my death, at a time when thousands of people who knew me were still alive?

“The first Gospel account was written within thirty years of the life of Christ. When that account was written, many witnesses to the death and resurrection of Jesus were still living. According to the experts, there is no example of a legendary tale in ancient history that developed in so short a period of time. None. Ever.”

“Two minutes.”

Finney shot the judge an annoyed look before turning back to the jury. “And this theory that it was just a conspiracy by the disciples . . .” Finney shook his head, hoping the jury was with him. “I’ve tried enough cases to see every kind of conspiracy imaginable. I’ve seen men and women lie to make money, to further their own reputations, to gain political power, or to save their own skins. But I’ve never seen men and women lie so they could be tortured and burned at the stake. I’ve never seen them conspire so they could be crucified like their leader. Death has a way of revealing truth. Why would the disciples die for a lie?”

Finney surveyed the jury and noticed a woman in the back row fighting to keep her eyes open. How could she sleep through this? He was discussing the most significant event in the history of the planet. He wanted to throw something at her.

He decided against it.

“Imagine for a moment that you are the apostle Peter. You’ve either seen a resurrected Jesus or you’re making it all up—one big practical joke on all mankind. You are hauled before the Jewish rulers—the Sanhedrin—and ordered not to talk about Jesus and the Resurrection. But you keep preaching. You see your friends stoned, whipped, and jailed for the faith. But you keep preaching. Emperor Nero of Rome declares himself the ‘enemy of God,’ and you see Christians tied to posts, covered in wax, and set ablaze to light the Roman roads at night. But you go out and convert others to take their places, telling everyone you see about the Resurrection.

“You are arrested and thrown in the Mamertine prison in Rome—a death cell where you are chained upright to a post and made to stand in your own urine and excrement for nine long months. Your only exposure to light comes when the guards haul you out of prison to torture you. Renounce Christ and you will go free. But you refuse to become a traitor to your faith.

“Finally you are hauled before Nero to face execution. There you see your beloved wife, whom you have not seen since the day of your arrest nine months ago. If you renounce the Resurrection now, she will be spared. And you will be released.”

Finney paused and studied the jury. They were all with him, all except one . . . and as long as she didn’t snore.

“But you hold firm and Nero announces your penalty—crucifixion for you and your wife. Do you renounce now, at the last possible moment?

“No!” Finney slapped the jury rail, and the lady in the back snapped to attention, a possible whiplash victim. “Your resolve strengthens. You insist on being crucified upside down because you are not worthy to die like your Savior. And as you are being led away, you look over your shoulder and make eye contact with your trembling wife. ‘O thou,’ you say, ‘remember the Lord.’

“Can anyone seriously believe that Peter did this for a hoax? For a conspiracy? Or had he seen the resurrected Christ with his own eyes and felt Christ’s power in every sinew of his body?

“Peter didn’t ask to be crucified upside down because he was a ringleader in some plot to deceive. He asked because he had heard Christ teach and he had watched Christ die and then he had seen Christ come back from the dead. It was the most important event in history, with the most important Man who ever lived at the center of it.

“And Peter had seen it all with his own eyes.”

“Your time is up, Judge Finney.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Finney said. He felt almost breathless, but he was satisfied that he had given it his best shot. He turned to sit back down.

“Not so fast,” the big, booming voice said.

Huh?

“I do have two quick questions for you.”

Finney faced the judge. “Okay.”

Javitts looked down at his notes. “In your understanding, is it ever permissible for a Christian to kill another human being?”

Finney thought about this for a long moment. Where did that come from?

“Mr. Finney?”

“Sorry, Your Honor. Jesus said to love your enemies, not to seek revenge. So I would say an individual should never take the life of another except in self-defense. But sometimes the state must do so through its citizens, including Christian citizens, in order to punish wrongdoers or defend its national interests.”

Judge Javitts showed no reaction. “Okay, then, let me ask you this: Is it ever permissible for a Christian to take his or her own life?”

The judge had his pen poised over his legal pad, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to ask these questions and take a few notes. But Finney hadn’t said a thing about suicide during his entire opening statement. Where are these questions coming from?

“No, Your Honor. Most Christians believe that doing so would usurp the prerogative of God. And we also believe that life is always worth living—that God gives grace sufficient for even the most drastic circumstances. Committing suicide is wrong, but it doesn’t somehow negate a person’s faith. A Christian who commits suicide is still a Christian.”

“I see,” Javitts said. “Thank you, Judge Finney.”