Truth’s Fortresses

Nathan woke up early. He brewed coffee, took a sip, and took the mug along to his bedroom. He started searching in his Bible when his eyes fell on a passage near the end of one of the Gospels. Jesus was taken by force to the residence of the Roman governor in the early morning hours. When Pontius Pilate interrogated him, the accused rabbi replied:

“I was born and came into the world to testify to the truth. 

Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

Nathan was immediately captivated by the conversation about truth. His jaw dropped when he saw Pilate’s response to the accused rabbi:

  “‘What is truth?’ Pilate asked.”

Nathan was astonished to find the question he had been wrestling with for months word for word in his Bible… a question from the mouth of the Roman governor in Judea:

“What is truth?”

The more Nathan thought, the clearer he saw the tormented governor’s conundrum. According to Roman truth, the accused Jesus standing before him was perfectly innocent. Yet the spiritual leaders who made the complaint believed in a completely different truth—the only truth that they were able to see—that the accused is undeniably guilty and deserves capital punishment.

A breathless messenger came running straight from the judge’s home, bearing another urgent truth—an outcry from the depths of his wife’s heart, “Leave this innocent man alone. I’ve had a terrible nightmare about him.” But Pilate was haunted by a fourth troubling truth: Caesar had zero tolerance for local uprisings and this commotion could be the end of his career. There was no way to move for the governor. With the air thick with tension, he had to pronounce his judgment.

The conundrum troubling Pilate’s mind was similar—word for word—as the utter confusion bubbling and simmering in Nathan’s. The darkness and disorientation were unbearable. His whole being grasped for answers.

Nathan decided to put his burning question to his four mentors. The matter was too urgent to take two weeks before seeing them all. It was a Saturday morning, and he guessed there was a good chance he may catch them at home. With no time to lose, Nathan leaped onto his motorcycle to see each of his four mentors before the end of the weekend and to ask Pilate’s question: “What is truth?”

With the engine pleasantly rumbling below him and fresh morning air in his face, he wondered about his mentors. What would truth be from their perspectives? Would all understand truth the same way? He couldn’t wait to hear each one’s response. 

Nathan decided beforehand to stop by the roadside soon after each visit to jot down a few remarks about that mentor’s view of truth.

Fisherman 

Talking to Fisherman about deeper things in life could never be rushed. His thoughts meandered their way to answers. Nathan noticed the same wrinkles around his eyes as when he was straining to make out what he could see on the horizon where the sky dipped into the ocean. Fisherman first voiced a few ideas that sounded slightly off-target. When Nathan felt like giving up, Fisherman began using carefully selected words to shuck open answers like oysters. They testified of a man who saw far beyond what his young hearer ever could have imagined.

Fisherman told a tale about half-truths and deception in the fishing industry. He lifted his brows. “Half-truths can be complete lies.”  Fisherman shared a piece of wisdom with Nathan as carefully as if he were handing him a priceless pearl. Fisherman said, “Truth had been around long before you or I ever were—and ages after we will have sailed across life’s final horizon, truth still will be.”

 When Fisherman talked about profound matters, he did so by telling stories. He colored his narrative with sayings from the treasure chest of proverbs that he’d collected since childhood. He generously sprinkled conversations with specks of wisdom he’d received from previous generations—from people who had thought long and deeply about life. 

According to Fisherman, the way to get to know truth is by listening carefully and observing closely. By being deeply connected, you learn to distinguish truth when you listen with reverence to what had happened before: to history, good leaders, to those who have navigated a journey to destinations similar to yours. Truth gets discovered when you have a teachable heart and travel in wise company.

Fisherman continued, “One of the greatest moments in life is the joy of uncovering a life-changing truth. It’s like opening an oyster and discovering a glossy pearl the size of a bird egg.” Fisherman let this sentence hang in the air for a moment. “But to be able one day to pass on that truth that you have discovered to a youngster and see their eyes light up when their world shifts as they get it…” His eyes teared up as he tried to find words. “Nothing on earth can compare with that.”

“You can never nail truth down,” Fisherman continued. “It is life’s journey of searching. Over the years, the truth becomes clearer, but it is always bigger than you. You can never control it. You cannot wrestle it down or pin it to the ground. Cannot cup it in your hands. You can’t fold it and stick it in your pocket.”

“Truth is like the ocean breeze, above us and around us. If we crack open the slammed shutters of our minds to welcome it in, it can eventually be inside us as well.” With a deeply respectful and peaceful expression in his eyes, Fisherman summarized, “We can’t conquer truth. Truth conquers us.”

So, truth is a profound mystery, Nathan thought as he felt a deep sense of wonder.

Scientist

Scientist’s face grew stern and her voice firm as she answered Nathan’s question about truth. “It is our task, our professional calling,” she said, “to discern between truth and non-truth.” She continued without missing a beat. “Harebrained thinking and superstitions flourish when people don’t learn to examine their assumptions.” When Scientist used words like superstition or harebrained, she knitted her brow and spat the words out in disgust. “Millions of people live in anguish because of senseless superstitions. Bad luck is supposedly caused by the spilling of sodium chloride or the shattering of a sheet of glass with a silver coating.” She bit her lip for a moment, then clenched her hand as she continued. “Unthinking fools embrace what they hear from witless geriatrics.” 

Scientist shook her head. “The most basic scientific approach will disprove all superstitions as complete and utter garbage.”

She sighed. “The enemy of truth is that people don’t think critically. They don’t experiment; don’t establish cause and effect.” She clenched her jaw slightly and pursed her lips. “And subjectivity is an even greater enemy. People are not naturally objective.” Frustration rang in her voice. “Somebody should write a good course to train people to look at matters objectively, and the government should make that course compulsory!”

She looked straight at Nathan and said in a thoughtful, measured tone, “If you want to know what truth is, measure, analyze, ask penetrating questions. Think critically. Examine cause and effect; test your theories. Do some blind and double-blind studies. Eliminate subjective influences.” 

Scientist explained, even though Nathan already knew, “In blind studies, the researchers take care that the expectations of the research subjects—that’s the people they are doing research on—can’t influence the results.”

She gave an example. “The researcher gives some subjects the medication that is being tested while a control group receives a placebo—a harmless and useless substance with an appearance similar to the medication. In a blind study, only the researcher knows who’s getting medication and who the placebo. The patients or subjects don’t. If the researchers see the results at the end of the study, they have objective information. The subjective factor—the human factor—has now been eliminated.”

Scientist cleared her throat. “Double-blind studies go even further. The researcher has no contact whatsoever with the subjects. An assistant dispenses the medication as well as the placebo without knowing which group is getting the placebo. Only the researcher who stays in the background knows. In double-blind research, the results of the study cannot be influenced by the expectations of the patients or the expectations of the researcher. The human factor—the subjective factor—has been doubly ruled out.”

“Do you understand the principle?” asked Scientist. She sat up and drew her shoulders back. “Subjectivity is the number one enemy of truth. To know what’s true, you always have to rule out the human and psychological influences.”

Scientist waved the index finger of her right hand rhythmically up and down as she stressed her point:

“Truth is nothing but objective, tested data.” 

Artist

Artist was wrapping a piece of fine sandpaper around a cork sanding block when Nathan asked, “Do you believe there is such a thing as absolute truth?” Artist clicked his tongue. “Truth—if it exists at all—is relative!” He scratched his chin before carrying on. “If I would sing a single note, it cannot be labeled as right or wrong. But in a song, it might be in or out of tune. Truth is like music.” There was something melodic in the cadence of his voice.

Artist explained while carefully sanding an ancient musical instrument. “Take Einstein…” Nathan smiled at Artist using a scientific example. “E=MC², or energy equals mass, multiplied by the speed of light squared.” Nathan nodded. “Now, light travels at a constant speed.” Artist moved his finger in a gradual sweep from left to right while whistling a single note.

“So if the speed of light stays constant, mass and energy must be interchangeable. Einstein implies, in other words, that mass (that is, any physical object) can be transformed into pure energy, and pure energy can be converted into mass (a physical substance or object).” Artist tried to size up if Nathan understood the radical implications. “Do you get it? Anything can become anything else.” He held out the musical instrument that he was busy restoring. “This lute can be transformed into pure energy—not an ounce of matter would be left. And pure energy, in turn, could be transformed into matter.” Artist rose to his feet, animatedly waving his arms. “You see, nothing is set in stone.”

Nathan frowned as Artist opened his watercolor box and pointed at the dozens of colors of paint. “Seeing color is a reaction.” He continued, “The brain interprets a signal from the retina, which the retina sends when it’s met by an electromagnetic wave. If the frequency of the wave changes, the signal sent to the brain also changes.”

Artist paused to gather his thoughts.

“If the same beam of light hits your retina and mine, both retinas will send signals to our brains. But you and I differ physically in so many ways: appearance, the sound of our voices, and each of our bodies has a distinct smell. There’s an enormous chance that the signals from our retinas will not be identical. Our brains each decode the signal they receive, and we cannot know if our brains interpret them differently.”

Artist was on a roll. “We both have learned to say that this cube of paint and trees outside are green, but we would never know what our brains truly see. It is possible that the color we both call green is seen in my brain as orange or purple in yours!”

Nathan frowned, involuntarily moving his head slightly from side to side.

 Artist changed the topic. “Let’s talk about space travel.” He stood as if wearing a space suit. “Say you’re an astronaut out on a spacewalk. You notice a huge rock floating toward you. Are you moving toward the rock, or is the rock moving toward you? Or are both the rock and you moving in the same direction but at different speeds?”

With a smile and a nod, Artist affirmed, “Everything is relative.”

He put on the kettle. “Nothing can be absolutely right or wrong. All depends on circumstances.” He looked out the window. “Actions that are right over here may be wrong over there. Something that is good for one group of people may be atrocious to another.”

He brewed a pot of herbal tea with the aroma of aniseed and cinnamon while explaining, “If something’s wrong for you, then it’s wrong for you. It is not in tune with your song. Be careful not to be misled to think that it should be wrong for other people, too. You don’t know their story or how it fits in with their life-melody.”

Artist put down two cups of tea. He fetched an old, leather-bound dictionary from a shelf and pointed to it. “The sounds of language have no intrinsic meaning and words don’t possess meaning. It’s all a matter of interpretation. People mean different things by the same words. So, you never know if what you mean when you speak is exactly what another person understands. It’s all relative.”

They sipped the tea. The taste was refreshing. Artist looked straight at Nathan. “If there’s one thing in the world you can be certain of, it is that you can’t be certain of anything!” He smiled. “That’s why we should never impose our opinions onto others. Live your life and try not to harm others or interfere with others.

“Remember! Truth always depends on circumstances; it depends on the individual.” After a quiet moment, he continued with rhythmic emphasis, “My truth is different from your truth and the next person’s truth.”

Nathan whispered, “Truth is relative.”

Outcome?

As Nathan mounted his motorbike and roared off from seeing Artist, his mind was reeling. No wonder he was so confused. Never would he ever have dreamed that people in their right mind could understand one concept so differently. If people could differ so much over the meaning of truth, no wonder it turns into a battlefield when they try to decide whether some detail is true or not! When Nathan stopped at a gas station, he had a quick look over his notes. He wondered if the fourth mentor would be able to help him make sense of the things he’d heard from the first three.

 Wildlife Researcher

The sun was setting as Nathan arrived at Wildlife Researcher’s camp. The two men greeted each other warmly. They exchanged a few thoughts, then wordlessly gazed at the gold, orange, and red streaks in the sky above them. After the sun had set, Nathan was struck once again by how quickly it got dark away from the glow of city lights. The campfire was ablaze, and the air smelled of the pleasant blend of woodsmoke and coffee. As they sat by the fireside, Nathan began pouring out his heart. He cautiously ventured into the war zone of truth: Fisherman’s truth and mystery; Scientist and factual data; Artist and total relativity. 

In the flickering light of the campfire, surrounded by intense darkness and soothing nocturnal sounds, Nathan bared his wounds and frustration. He tried to explain why he needed answers so urgently. When the conversation quieted down, his mind wandered back to the disappointing reunion and the melting snowman by his driveway. He thought: No one will ever understand that an ugly melting snowman disturbed me so deeply that it pushed me into a downward spiral. And his heart yearned for answers about truth, meaning, faith, and God.

★