What would happen if the most powerful leaders in the world were confronted not by politicians or generals, but by voices from the other side of life? What if their midnight prayers, restless dreams, or quiet moments of despair were answered by ancestors, prophets, or spirits carrying messages of unity? This is not the premise of a science-fiction fantasy—it is the daring vision blended into John E. McCarthy’s St. James Way. The novel suggests that if world leaders could hear from the beyond, they might finally recognize what unites humanity instead of what divides it. In truth, the story is about the fragile balance between destruction and hope. Humanity stands at a crossroads where war and faith have too often collided. Yet through the eyes of George, a psychiatrist wrestling with grief and spiritual awakening, and through the imagined encounters of global figures like Pope Francis, Stephen Hawking, the Ayatollah of Iran, and Sara Netanyahu, the novel proposes a radical but profoundly hopeful idea: that voices from the spiritual realm could be the catalyst for peace.

One of the most moving scenes in St. James Way places Pope Francis in his Vatican chambers, startled awake by a familiar voice. It is his grandmother, Rosa Margherita, the woman who once shaped his faith with love and poetry. Glowing with soft blue light, she reminds him that no one religion holds all the truth. She urges him to recognize that Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, and Hinduism all carry sparks of divine wisdom. Her words strike at the very heart of the author’s message: religion must be a bridge, not a wall. The Pope’s vision becomes a parable for all leaders—that humility and openness are the first steps toward healing a fractured world. McCarthy uses this scene to remind us that the afterlife, in its wisdom, knows no denominations. Souls, once free from the body, are not Catholic, Muslim, or Jew—they are simply children of the Creator, still learning and still growing.

Equally powerful is the scene in which the Ayatollah of Iran kneels in prayer, weary of political rivalries and the weight of his nation’s struggles. Suddenly, he is visited by a radiant presence who identifies himself as none other than Ibrahim—Abraham, the patriarch revered by Jews, Christians, and Muslims alike. The Ayatollah, startled and skeptical, is told that forgiveness must replace hatred, and that Muslims and Jews must find a way to live as one family. The spirit’s words are clear: anger and resentment are destroying the human future. Here, McCarthy’s vision is bold. He places a spiritual intervention at the center of one of the world’s most intractable conflicts, offering a glimpse of what could be possible if leaders allowed themselves to listen not only to political advisors but also to voices of compassion from beyond.

The book continues this plotline when Sara Netanyahu, wife of Israel’s Prime Minister, is visited in the quiet of the night by a figure who introduces herself as Sarah, the biblical matriarch. Radiant, gentle, yet firm, she asks Sara to use her influence to steer her husband toward peace with the Palestinians. Her words are urgent: the feud between faiths threatens to tear civilization apart, and reconciliation must begin now. This moment emphasizes one of McCarthy’s deepest convictions, expressed in his questionnaire: humanity’s spiritual essence gives us value, and religious identity need not cause wars. By giving voice to a matriarch revered in scripture, the novel suggests that the wisdom of the past still pleads with us in the present. Perhaps the most surprising vision in St. James Way is reserved for Stephen Hawking. Known as one of the greatest scientific minds of modern times, Hawking declared himself an atheist. Yet in the novel, he is visited by the spirit of his late mother. In their dialogue, she urges him to consider that there is more to existence than science can measure. She tells him that spirits are real, that love continues after death, and that even in the vast galaxies, divine essence endures.

The contrast is striking: the world’s most rational thinker confronted with the most irrational experience. Hawking’s vision illustrates the book’s central theme—that faith and reason are not enemies. Both can serve as guides when leaders and thinkers are willing to step outside the boundaries of their own certainty. The question arises: why does McCarthy choose to weave world leaders into encounters with spirits? The answer lies in the very purpose of the book. As he shared in his author questionnaire, McCarthy wants to remind readers that we are spiritual beings who grow through life lessons and through contact with the Creator and other souls. By placing this truth in the hands of leaders, he stresses the urgency: humanity’s survival depends on recognizing our shared spiritual identity. The voices from the beyond serve as a dramatic device, but also as a theological statement. They symbolize the wisdom we ignore, the humility we resist, and the guidance we desperately need in times of conflict.