Edmund was out walking that afternoon. He needed some time alone, some space to think. He drove to a park not far from the house and then just started walking, not really paying attention to where he was going.
There were a lot of kids running around the playground there, often yelling and laughing. He thought he spotted a couple that Gunnar had played with. He turned away and kept walking.
What had just happened? What did any of this mean? He couldn’t make sense of the world. The wind was getting a little chilly, and he zipped up his jacket as he walked.
He kept walking, turning over the past weeks in his mind, reliving moments in the courtroom. Was there something he could have done differently?
After a few blocks, Edmund looked up and took notice of his surroundings. Across the street from him was a two-story red-brick church. Brisbane Baptist Church of Greensboro, the sign said. He stood a moment indecisively, then thought, why not? He crossed the street and pulled at one of the glass double doors. It opened, and Edmund tentatively walked in.
“Hello?” he called out. “Is anyone here?”
It was a nice foyer, with thick red carpeting. To his left were doors to a gymnasium and to his right, stairs led up to a landing where it looked like the main meeting hall would be.
After he looked around a few moments, a door below the landing he hadn’t noticed opened and a man came out. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, with wire-rimmed glasses and hair that was just barely more grey than brown.
“Can I help you?”
“Hey, I was just walking past and…I don’t know. I guess I was hoping God might have some answers.”
“I see. Well, I’m the pastor here. I was just reviewing tomorrow’s sermon, but I have a little time. Would you like to step into my office and talk?”
Edmund still wasn’t entirely sure why he had come in. “Uh…yeah. Okay.” He held out his hand. “I’m Edmund Dantent.”
He saw a light of recognition in the pastor’s eyes.
“I see. I’m Reverend Sean Kraft. You can call me Sean, though. I don’t lean heavy on the formalities.”
Edmund followed Sean through the door he’d come out of, through a small outer office, and into his own.
It wasn’t a large room, but it felt welcoming. The pastor’s desk was off to the left as he entered. The wall opposite the door had white, built-in bookshelves filled with a mix of hardbacks, trade paperbacks, and various personal mementos.
The pastor sat down behind his desk, and Edmund sat in one of the couple of chairs facing him.
“So I understand it’s been a hard week, and a very bad year for you.”
Edmund opened his mouth to answer, then just nodded quietly.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the pain of losing your son like that.… And then to be denied justice on top of it. You must wonder where God is in all of this. If he’s there, how could he let this happen?”
“The thought had crossed my mind, yes.”
The pastor nodded and continued, “I wish I could offer you some easy answer something that would take away the pain. I don’t have it. The Bible is full of stories of men who suffered unjustly, all the way up to Jesus himself. There’s not always an explanation.”
Edmund squinted at Sean. To his surprise, this frank admission actually made him feel just a little better.
“The Bible is clear, though, that we are not abandoned. God knows about our suffering, and he cares. And someday, if we trust him, he will make it all clear to us.”
“But why—“
“I don’t know, Mr. Dantent. I don’t know.”
And then, mercifully, they just sat in silence for a few moments.
Finally, Sean said, “I do know, though, that we must be on guard lest evil beget evil.”
“Ah…what?”
“I’m sorry. I suppose I slipped into King-James speak there for a moment. It’s a hazard of the profession. We must not allow the wickedness another has done to us to drive us into sin as well.”
“Oh, I guess.”
“I watched some of the trial. What was done to you was terrible, Mr. Dantent. But racism is also a very grave sin.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“And we must forgive those who have wronged us.”
The feeling of peace Edmund had began to evaporate.
“But how can I forgive someone who’s not sorry?”
“You cannot know their hearts. That is for God alone.”
“I was in the courtroom. I saw his face when the not guilty verdict was read. There was no regret. No sorrow. I—“
“God tells us we must forgive.”
“But if I forgive someone who’s not sorry, he just does it again. And he never learns. It can’t work that way.”
“But God tells us that we must forgive everyone.”
“That can’t be right. I…” Edmund stumbled trying to find words for things he hadn’t thought about much before. “I mean, mercy is good. But God must care about justice as well. Otherwise, why do we want justice?”
“Look, why don’t you come back and meet with me sometime this coming week? I think maybe you just need time to think through these things. I’d be glad to talk with you again soon.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Here’s my card. Call me and we’ll find a time.”
Edmund took the card. He never called back.
The Mayor of Christ Mountain 
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