Ship of Fools - Chapter 26
Rock of Ages
[Start at the beginning of the novel: Prologue.]
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Welcome back to Ship of Fools, my satire about a science journalist trying to make sense of conspiracy theorists, flat-earthers, moon-landing deniers, New Agers, and more.
As the creationist raft trip continues downstream, Reverend Paul finds his faith deeply shaken. Herrada is the culprit, of course, just not in the way Paul would have expected.
THE REVEREND had to pee. His watch informed him it was three a.m., but his bladder insisted he unzip the sleeping bag, climb out of the tent, and find the portable latrine farther up the side canyon where they’d made camp. It took longer than usual at this time of year, what with having to put on a layer of warm clothing. At least it gave him the opportunity, once he was out of the tent, to view the swath of stars visible between the walls of the narrow defile the canyon had now become. He stumbled his way out of camp before turning on his headlamp, spoiling his night vision.
He’d just stepped away from the portable toilet and was zipping his fly when soft giggling came from up-canyon, along with the sound of footsteps crunching across gravel. Without thinking, he turned his head in that direction, the beam of his headlamp catching Herrada and Sarah walking hand in hand, her free hand resting on his upper arm and her head leaning against his shoulder. But only for an instant before they reacted to the light, turning towards him and squinting, but neither letting go of the other’s hand.
“Reverend Paul? Is that you?” Sarah asked. He was a little taken aback at the lack of surprise or guile in her voice. He knew the guides prided themselves on being able to travel by starlight, but something seemed surreptitious about them being out here in the dark with nothing to light their way.
“It is. What are you two doing out here?” He assumed that what he himself had been doing was clear. Belatedly, he switched off his headlamp so they wouldn’t feel like he was giving them the third-degree, even if that was exactly what he was doing.
“Just enjoying a starry night,” said Herrada.
They both sounded so calm, while his own heart was racing the same as it had before his first sermons as a young seminarian.
“But it’s three a.m.” This was deeply uncomfortable, but he had to know the truth. He reached for a euphemism. “Please tell me this isn’t a walk of shame.”
Sarah giggled.
“No shame involved,” said Herrada.
“Oh. Well. That’s a relief.”
“I mean, we did share a sexual experience, or maybe you’d call it ‘having carnal relations’, which is really the best way to enjoy a starry night. But no shame was involved.” Paul’s eyes were adjusting to the dim starlight, so he could see Herrada’s ironic smile as he turned to his companion. “Was there, Sarah?”
She giggled again. “None at all.”
He couldn’t believe this was how the trip was going to end. The sad part was, the last couple of days had been going better. He and Herrada had even come to an informal agreement just that morning — or the previous morning, given the small hour.
True, the conflicts with the younger man had continued even after Nankoweap. In Carbon Canyon, where the folds in the Toroweap Sandstone clearly showed the sediments must have been soft when they were deformed, Herrada disagreed, pointing to supposed slips in the bent layers, which he claimed indicated they’d been brittle rock at the time.
“You sound quite confident of that,” Paul said, “as do all the secular geologists. But they can’t even agree on the age of the canyon, or exactly how it was carved. With so much disagreement, it’s hard to trust any of their theories.”
“You’re right,” Herrada rejoined. “There is a lot of uncertainty in science, and a lot of debate over different explanations. But at least science admits the uncertainties, settling for ninety-five percent confidence in most cases. That puts science at a disadvantage when it has to compete with beliefs that demand 110% faith. But just because you’re 110% certain, it doesn’t mean you’re not 110% wrong.”
That ended the discussion for the time being, but Herrada was back at it that evening, during the astronomy talk. They’d camped at a particularly wide spot in the canyon so they could see more of the sky. It was a clear night, providing a good backdrop to explain why believers should reject geocentrism, which Christians had clung to for far too long and which had seen a resurgence in recent years, even among his own flock.
To avoid Herrada’s constant interruptions, pointed questions, and counterclaims, he’d developed the habit of speaking non-stop during these nightly talks. His fellow seekers were helpful in this regard, raising their hands to pose easily answered questions, in this case about Copernicus and about Galileo’s treatment by the Church. Here he was able to defend Christianity from the awful attacks of the Enlightenment, especially its 19th century version, when the Conflict Thesis became established, the myth of the Dark Ages was born, and with it the false idea that Columbus had to battle the Church over Earth’s shape. The truth was that no one of any note had believed the Earth was flat since the time of the Greeks.
But at last his voice flagged and the sympathetic audience had run out of questions, providing Herrada an opening. “You’re not going to mention the Distant Starlight Problem?”
“What’s that?” one of the teenagers asked helpfully.
Paul reminded himself that inquisitiveness was a good and natural thing. “It’s a bit abstruse. Would you like to explain it, Mr. Herrada?”
“Well the problem itself is simple, really. The farthest stars we can detect are nine billion light years away, and the farthest galaxy is more than 13 billion. That means the light left those stars billions of years ago, so how can the universe as created by Our Father only be 6,000 years old? Either you have to believe the stars are much closer — maybe just pinpricks in the dome of the firmament — or you have to admit that the creation of stars on Day Four must have happened much more than 6,000 years ago.”
“Oh, I’ve heard about this,” said one of the other seekers, a woman in her forties. “God created the light already on its way. I mean, he had to create mature plants and trees and animals out of nothing, so there would be a garden for Adam and Eve to live in. So why not create light that had already reached the Earth from the stars?”
“Thank you, Carol,” Paul said, “that’s a worthy solution to the problem, but it has fallen out of favor of late. It makes God into something of a magician and trickster, doesn’t it? The Light-in-Transit hypothesis doesn’t just involve light; that light contains all sorts of information about the stars that emitted it, showing some going supernova and others about to be born. But all of that information and those events would just be illusions in this scenario. And if you believe part of what we see in the created universe is just an illusion, why not all of it? And then it’s just a short step to believing this is all a simulation. So most Creation scholars reject the idea.”
Herrada clapped in applause. “Well explained, Reverend Paul.”
“Thank you. But it’s not as if the secular version doesn’t have its own problems. Would you care to explain the horizon problem to our audience?” Paul hoped this debate was at least a little more entertaining than the previous ones.
“Sure. The distances of the universe are so vast that there hasn’t been time for light to reach from one side to the other. So a galaxy 13 billion light years away from us in one direction wouldn’t be able to detect a galaxy 13 billion light years in the opposite direction, because the universe is only about 14 billion years old. To get around this, physicists proposed a period of rapid expansion in the first second after the Big Bang.”
“An ad hoc explanation if ever there was one, meant to paper over weaknesses in the theory. Physicists know they have a problem with the whole idea of a Big Bang and now they’re reaching for ever more fantastical explanations, multiverses and such. It all sounds like sophomores at a secular university gathered around a bong.” This brought giggles from the two teenagers and a wry smile from Herrada.
“And while the Big Bang is in disarray,” Paul went on, “we have several more recent possible solutions to the distant starlight problem, the Anisotropic Synchrony Convention, the Dasha solution, Creation Time Coordinates. It’s all very abstract, but I’m sure that with so many viable candidates, one will prove correct in the not-too-distant future.”
Herrada shook his head. “So when geologists have competing hypotheses about when and how the Grand Canyon was carved, that’s enough to throw out all of modern geology, but when Creationists can’t agree on the origins of the Universe, it’s somehow a virtue? Too much!” He shook his head again, but he was grinning good-naturedly.
The next morning, the last full day on the river, Paul could only hope the amicable style of debate they’d developed that evening would continue as they came to one of the most moving moments in the entire journey, the first contact with the Vishnu Schist, the black rock with the swirls of pink and white Zoroaster Granite running through it. The pagan names were unfortunate. Paul liked to think of it as the Lord’s Bedrock, the most ancient rock in all the canyon. At least Creationists and Evolutionists could agree on that much, if not the exact number.
Everything else they’d seen so far was the product of a process God had set in motion, principally via the Flood; but this rock was even older than that, the direct product of God’s handiwork early in the Creation week. In the patterns created by the intermixed schist and granite, it was almost as if one could see the fingerprints of the omnipotent sculptor at work. For the faithful, it was a moving encounter, and many wanted to be baptized in the water flowing over this bedrock, at least when the weather was warmer.
And indeed, most of the seekers on this trip were moved, running their hands over the squiggly pink seams of granite as they offered silent praise to the All Mighty or sang scraps of “Rock of Ages.” All except Herrada, who stood nearby, looking as if he was about to spoil the moment with another contrarian explanation — no doubt something about radiometric dating of the metamorphic rock or the pink seams showing a process over a long period. He’d heard it all before, and didn’t want it to disturb the moment for the godly seekers he’d brought to this special place.
He held a finger up to his lips then gestured for Herrada to follow him. When he felt they were out of the group’s hearing, he turned to the younger man. “What will it take for you to stop spoiling the trip with your constant interruptions? If not for the remainder of the expedition, at least for this one sacred moment?”
“Reform your ways, of course.”
Paul wished there was some way to wipe that maddening half-smile off the younger man’s face. He clearly suffered from delusions of grandeur. “What do you mean? Reform my ways how?”
“As I said before, you must prepare yourself for what is to come.”
“You keep saying that. But what is to come?”
“I told you, a new Revelation is on its way.”
“And how do you know this?”
Herrada turned to him with that same infuriating grin. “I have an in, you see. I am merely here to prepare the way.”
So the poor fellow believed he was John reincarnate, rather than Jesus himself; that was something at least. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“You can view it as a test of your faith.”
“Can you give me more detail? When will this Revelation arrive? What will it be about?”
“Trust me when I say it will be Earth-shaking, even Universe-shaking. Events are in motion that will precipitate the Revelation, but the exact timing has yet to be set. All I can tell you is that all will be revealed in due time.”
“Very well. Assuming I believe you, what would you have me do?”
“You have a large following…”
“Yes, that’s why those Nazis were interested in me. I can’t say I like where this is going.”
“And of all the pastors of mega-churches in the US, you appear to be the least dogmatic, the least self-interested, and the most reasonable.”
“Well, that’s something. It doesn’t sound as if you want me to change my core beliefs.”
“I’ve always felt Our Father wants our trust more than any particular belief, wouldn’t you agree? The Bible is Our Father’s word appropriate to the people of that time. The coming revelations will be more appropriate for the people of our time, but only if their minds are open to many possibilities. Encourage your flock to view His word more in that light, and they will be well prepared for what is to come — or as prepared as they can be.”
“That’s a lot to ask.”
“You can begin by abandoning this strict adherence to Young Earth Creationism. Encourage them to be open to all the possibilities for Our Father’s work in creating and sustaining the Universe. You could begin with some of the more liberal interpretations of Genesis and the geological record.”
“I can’t guarantee you anything, but I promise I will look into it. I understand there is a group of geologists who believe an Old Earth geological record and Genesis are not in conflict. I have to admit, your points have revealed gaps in my own knowledge, not to say that of Creation scholars, that I need to fill in. Is that enough?”
Herrada held his hands outward, palms up. “My work here is done.”
And he had been as good as his word, allowing the gathered seekers their moment with the Lord’s Bedrock, undisturbed by any questions about its age, and remaining circumspect, even quiet, during that evening’s talk on the layers they would see the next day as they climbed out of the canyon. Paul tucked into his sleeping bag for the night, satisfied that he’d at last put a stop to Herrada’s interference with the trip, if only on its last day.
But now, not six hours later, he’d caught Herrada red-handed, just after defiling young Sarah. And the two of them had the gall to not even pretend to be ashamed!
“Please don’t make a big deal out of it, Reverend,” Sarah said.
“But…” He looked back and forth between them, Herrada with that damned smile and Sarah looking defiant. “After all the trouble you’ve caused so far… I thought we had an agreement… and now this.”
Sarah let go of Herrada’s hand. “Okay, I see you two are going to have it out, but I’m on breakfast duty in a couple of hours, so I’m going to get some sleep.” She turned and took a few steps toward camp, but then turned back. Now her voice betrayed a tone of fear. “Wait. You’re not going to tell Tom, are you?”
It hadn’t even occurred to him, though he supposed there must be rules about this sort of thing, and not just on trips for believers. “That’s what you’re worried about, when your soul is at stake?”
“My soul is just fine, and none of your business. It’s my job I’m worried about.”
“You can say I seduced you, if that helps,” Herrada said to her with a smirk.
Somehow, despite the clear evidence that Sarah had fallen prey to her base instincts, Paul felt he had to protect her from this cad. “No, I won’t volunteer the information. Of course, if he asks me outright, I’ll have to be honest. Besides, I can see that this rascal is to blame.”
She laughed, and it wasn’t a giggle this time. “You didn’t take Zeus seriously just then, did you? It was more the other way around — in the interests of complete honesty, of course.” She turned and disappeared into the night.
Paul turned to face his tormentor. “Look what you’ve done now, you…you…. You’ve corrupted that young woman!”
Herrada laughed. “Judging by her level of comfort and skill, I was hardly the first. Or wait, maybe I was the first…”
“First what?”
“Never mind. But this talk of corruption — I reject that category entirely. This patriarchal brand of religion really has to go. Maybe I could suggest some readings…”
“I’d no more take your suggestions than I would Satan’s…”
Herrada stepped close to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Hey, you seem upset. Maybe you’re jealous?”
“Jealous? What are you talking about?”
“Jealous of Sarah receiving my sexual attentions. It’s true, she opened herself to the seeds of my Truth, seeds I hope will bear fruit.”
“Good Lord, can you even hear yourself?”
“But I thought you and I shared a more cerebral form of intercourse. I apologize if I was mistaken. We still have time. I do have a short refractory period, if I do say so myself.” His hand was rubbing up and down on Paul’s arm.
“What? No!” He stepped out of the devil’s reach.
Herrada paused to consider. “So it’s me you’re jealous of. You have a thing for Sarah! And why not? You know each other from previous trips, and obviously she’s attractive. Young enough to technically be your daughter, but when’s that ever stopped a middle-aged man?”
“What? No…” was all he could muster. He was simply stunned, not by the absurdity of the statement, but by its truth.
He’d always thought he had a special relationship with Sarah. He’d hoped to win her soul for Christ, but had never pushed too hard because he didn’t want to strain their camaraderie or dissuade her from just that extra bit of attentiveness she showed him around camp — the attentiveness, he now saw, of a kind young woman for an older man and the leader of the trip, or more cynically, of a service worker for the one who would dole out the tips at the end of the journey.
But there had always been a purity to it precisely because she was so out of bounds. First, he was married, and there was no way he’d ever cheat on Joanie. And second, he always assumed every young, unmarried woman was a virgin until proved otherwise. They all seemed so sweet, and he couldn’t bear to think of them facing the Lord’s eternal wrath simply for a moment’s pleasure. And so there had been something courtly and innocent about his relationship with her.
But now that he knew the truth — that she was open for business, in the unfortunate phrase he couldn’t keep from crossing his mind — he saw everything in the light of a jilted lover. All those moments when she’d been flirting with Herrada, she should have been flirting with him. And all those conversations on past trips, they were just so many wasted opportunities when they could have been together, if only she’d given him the slightest encouragement. Or maybe she had and he’d been too blind or innocent — blindly innocent, innocently blind — to see it. He knew then that he would have thrown everything away, his marriage, his family, his ministry, and his very soul, if he’d only known.
Lord help him, this was horrible. These were the passions of the sex addict, the same desires that had driven half of marriages onto the rocks, that had driven men into lustful or frustrated rages, from Othello to the latest young man on a shooting spree. He’d always held that lust was no excuse for murder, but now he saw that as so much wishful thinking. He was just a breath away from taking Herrada by the throat and wringing the life out of him — or better yet, of grabbing a chunk of the Lord’s Bedrock and bashing his overactive brains out with it.
“Are you okay?” Herrada asked again. “Maybe you should sit down.”
Paul reacted in the only way he could. “Get thee behind me, Satan! Out, vile serpent! You’ve tempted Sarah and caused her fall, but you won’t tempt me.”
“All right, just calm down.”
He took a deep breath, trying to think what to do. “For tomorrow’s float down to Phantom Ranch, you will stay as far away from me and the rest of my flock as the raft will allow. Fortunately, Sarah will continue downstream with Tom and his new party, and will be removed from your corrupting influence. While the rest of us take a break at the restaurant, you’ll get a head-start up the trail, so that we’ll never see you again. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly,” Herrada said. Then the devil did have the gall to make a sign of blessing. “May you still see the Light that is yet to come.” With that same enigmatic smile, he turned and walked back toward camp.
Paul fell to his knees and begged forgiveness for the vile thoughts and emotions that had just swept through him like a flash flood, leaving him feeling unclean, buried under deep sediments of doubt and sin. There wasn’t enough water in the entire Colorado River to wash it away.
Acknowledgements: The arguments in this chapter were based on the two books already cited for Chapter 20, plus, for the distant starlight problem, this article by Professor Danny Faulkner (a Young Earth Creationist and flat-earth-debunking astronomer).
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please give it a like, a share, a restack, or a comment. And if you really enjoyed it, I hope you’ll buy me a coffee or upgrade to a paid subscription.
How will Reverend Paul recover from the truth revealed by the incident with Herrada and Sarah? And what did Herrada mean about the Revelation still to come?
Next up: Chapter 27, “A Weird Intellectual Cul-de-Sac,” in which Penny tries to get Clive to climb out of the flat-earth box in which he’s trapped himself.