Sample this!

"
“Do you believe in God, Mr. Langdon?”
The question startled him.
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“I want to believe,” he heard himself say.
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“So why don’t you?”
He chuckled. “Well, it’s not that easy. Having faith requires leaps of faith, cerebral acceptance of miracles- immaculate conceptions and divine interventions. And then there are the codes of conduct. The Bible, the Koran, Buddhist scripture . . . they all carry similar requirements-and similar penalties. They claim that if I don’t live by a specific code I will go to hell. I can’t imagine a God who would rule that way.”
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“Yes. As a scientist and the daughter of a Catholic priest, what do you think of religion?”
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.”
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“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.”
... “So you believe God is fact, but we will never understand Him.”
"
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"
Chartrand took a deep breath. “I don’t understand this omnipotent-benevolent thing.”
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“You are confused because the Bible describes God as an omnipotent and benevolent deity.” “Exactly.” “Omnipotent-benevolent simply means that God is all-powerful and well-meaning.”
“I understand the concept. It’s just . . . there seems to be a contradiction.”
“Yes. The contradiction is pain. Man’s starvation, war, sickness . . .”
“Exactly!”
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“Terrible things happen in this world. Human tragedy seems like proof that God could not possibly be both all-powerful and well-meaning. If He loves us and has the power to change our situation, He would prevent our pain, wouldn’t He?”
The camerlegno frowned. “Would He?”
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“Well . . . if God loves us, and He can protect us, He would have to. It seems He is either omnipotent and uncaring, or benevolent and powerless to help.”
“Do you have children, Lieutenant?”
Chartrand flushed. “No, signore.”
“Imagine you had an eight-year-old son . . . would you love him?”
“Of course.”
“Would you do everything in your power to prevent pain in his life?”
“Of course.”
“Would you let him skateboard?” Chartrand did a double take. The camerlegno always seemed oddly “in touch” for a clergyman. “Yeah, I guess,” Chartrand said. “Sure, I’d let him skateboard, but I’d tell him to be careful.”
“So as this child’s father, you would give him some basic, good advice and then let him go off and make his own mistakes?”
“I wouldn’t run behind him and mollycoddle him if that’s what you mean.”
“But what if he fell and skinned his knee?”
“He would learn to be more careful.”
The camerlegno smiled. “So although you have the power to interfere and prevent your child’s pain, you would choose to show your love by letting him learn his own lessons?”
“Of course. Pain is part of growing up. It’s how we learn.”
The camerlegno nodded. “Exactly.”
"
-- Excerpts from Angels & Demons by Dan Brown...