"Greg Egan - Oceanic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Egan Greg)

I heard Daniel shift slightly. "Maybe the Angels had better telescopes than us. Or maybe they
spread out from Earth in all directions, launching thousands of expeditions without even knowing
what they'd find."
I laughed. "But they had to come here, to be made flesh again!" Even a less-than-devout ten-
year-old knew that much. God prepared Covenant as the place for the Angels to repent their theft
of immortality. The Transitionals believed that in a million years we could earn the right to be
Angels again; the Deep Church believed that we'd remain flesh until the stars fell from the sky.
Daniel said, "What makes you so sure that there were ever really Angels? Or that God really
sent them Her daughter, Beatrice, to lead them back into the flesh?"
I pondered this for a while. The only answers I could think of came straight out of the
Scriptures, and Daniel had taught me years ago that appeals to authority counted for nothing.
Finally, I had to confess: "I don't know." I felt foolish, but I was grateful that he was willing
to discuss these difficult questions with me. I wanted to believe in God for the right reasons,
not just because everyone around me did.
He said, "Archaeologists have shown that we must have arrived about twenty thousand years
ago. Before that, there's no evidence of humans, or any co-ecological plants and animals. That
makes the Crossing older than the Scriptures say, but there are some dates that are open to
interpretation, and with a bit of poetic license everything can be made to add up. And most
biologists think the native microfauna could have formed by itself over millions of years,
starting from simple chemicals, but that doesn't mean God didn't guide the whole process.
Everything's compatible, really. Science and the Scriptures can both be true."
I thought I knew where he was headed, now. "So you've worked out a way to use science to
prove that God exists?" I felt a surge of pride; my brother was a genius!




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"No." Daniel was silent for a moment. "The thing is, it works both ways. Whatever's written
in the Scriptures, people can always come up with different explanations for the facts. The ships
might have left Earth for some other reason. The Angels might have made bodies for themselves for
some other reason. There's no way to convince a non-believer that the Scriptures are the word of
God. It's all a matter of faith."
"Oh."
"Faith's the most important thing," Daniel insisted. "If you don't have faith, you can be
tempted into believing anything at all."
I made a noise of assent, trying not to sound too disappointed. I'd expected more from Daniel
than the kind of bland assertions that sent me dozing off during sermons at the Transitional
church.
"Do you know what you have to do to get faith?"
"No."
"Ask for it. That's all. Ask Beatrice to come into your heart and grant you the gift of
faith."
I protested, "We do that every time we go to church!" I couldn't believe he'd forgotten the
Transitional service already. After the priest placed a drop of seawater on our tongues, to
symbolize the blood of Beatrice, we asked for the gifts of faith, hope and love.
"But have you received it?"
I'd never thought about that. "I'm not sure." I believed in God, didn't I? "I might have."