保存 7/21/2009 23:11
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Vittoria paused, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “Religion is like language or dress. We gravitate toward the practices with which we were raised. In the end, though, we are all proclaiming the same thing. That life has meaning. That we are grateful for the power that created us.”

Langdon was intrigued. “So you’re saying that whether you are a Christian or a Muslim simply depends on where you were born?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at the diffusion of religion around the globe.”

“So faith is random?”

“Hardly. Faith is universal. Our specific methods for understanding it are arbitrary. Some of us pray to Jesus, some of us go to Mecca, some of us study subatomic particles. In the end we are all just searching for truth, that which is greater than ourselves.”

Langdon wished his students could express themselves so clearly. Hell, he wished he could express himself so clearly. “And God?” he asked. “Do you believe in God?”

Vittoria was silent for a long time. “Science tells me God must exist. My mind tells me I will never understand God. And my heart tells me I am not meant to.”

How’s that for concise, he thought. “So you believe God is fact, but we will never understand Him.”

“Her,” she said with a smile. “Your Native Americans had it right.”

Langdon chuckled. “Mother Earth.”

“Gaea. The planet is an organism. All of us are cells with different purposes. And yet we are intertwined. Serving each other. Serving the whole.”

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