The Seeker

In the intensive care unit, Scientist’s son teetered on the edge of death, and something shifted. He woke up as a seeker. When he could speak again, every breath carried a question. Scientist called for advice and help. When Nathan visited the hospital, he was bombarded with questions. Nathan shared what he had discovered on his own journey, but often didn’t have answers. 

Narrow Truth

The bed-bound Seeker found it hard to see a connection between his scientist-mom and Artist’s recent dark spells of inner crisis and their insufficient, shrunken, cropped-down views of truth. Nathan took a few days to sort through his thoughts before he attempted to answer Seeker. He told a story the way Wildlife Researcher would. The story involved all four of his former mentors.

Fisherman’s Truth Ball

Nathan said to Seeker, “Think of Fisherman’s understanding of truth as a multicolored ball. There are three main colors, but the colors are not clearly divided into separate segments. The colors gradually merge. Each of the three colors on the ball symbolizes a different type of truth.” Nathan gave examples from Fisherman’s life: 

• Technical truth: Fisherman’s boat is 30-feet long.
• Subjective truth: Fisherman is thrilled by the sight of dolphins.
• Moral truth: It’s wrong to use banned equipment that captures and kills non-target species like turtles and dolphins.

“Wait a moment,” Seeker said as he took a get-well card from his bedside table to scribble some notes on its back. Nathan continued, “The larger patches on Fisherman’s ball are colored in the three original colors, and smaller stretches are a blend of two colors, or all three. With Fisherman, the three kinds of truth are all intertwined.” 

“What would the three colors be?” Seeker mused, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He answered his own question thoughtfully. “I suggest this beautiful 'bedpan blue' of the hospital gown as the official color for science and technological truth.” They chuckled.

Scientist Square Truth 

Nathan found it challenging to help Seeker gain insight into his scientist-mother’s crisis in her faith. “When your mom pops in again, you should ask how her struggles with faith are linked with this ball story.” 

Seeker smiled uncertainly. He knew that it was his health issues that had pushed her to the brink. Seeker became all ears.

“Scientists, like your mom, mostly focus on only one of the colors on the truth ball. They are interested only in…can you guess?” Seeker smiled. “All blue technical truth, obviously.” Nathan nodded and continued, “So, imagine: a scientist took Fisherman’s truth ball along with a pair of scissors and cut away all except her favorite blue shade. Then she dumped the other colors in the trash.”

Seeker understood. Nathan paused before continuing, “The scientist cut away the aspects of truth that didn’t stand the test of being measurably true and accurate. She then took the remaining single-color segments, patched them together, and cut them into a mono-color square.” He looked at Seeker and asked, “What will the result be?”

“Truth became two-dimensional,” Seeker answered. “Yes,” said Nathan. “Now, her truth was easy to measure, analyze, and prove. So, the scientist narrowed truth down by dumping large parts of it so she could have a laser focus on technical truth.”

Seeker nodded. Nathan summarized, “So, other important aspects of truth have disappeared. They have moved into the scientist’s blind spot.” 

Seeker’s curiosity was now piqued about artists, too. 

Artist’s Free-Flowing Truth

“Let’s stay with the ball story. An artist saw how the scientist hacked parts of the colorful ball away and shaped her color of choice into a perfect square. The artist witnessed how the scientist trashed an exceptionally meaningful aspect of truth and dumped the artist’s favorite color. The frustrated artist, in furious reaction, chucked the scientist’s square sheet of truth in the trash. He then took his own favorite color and patched the shreds together.” Nathan paused. “The artist didn’t trim his sheet down into a square, but gave center stage to the individual’s experienced truth: my truth; your truth.” Seeker nodded. “To the artist, subjective truth was far more fascinating and significant than dull technical measurables and tables. It became his sole point of focus, completely absorbing his attention.”

“And Wildlife Researcher?” asked Seeker. Nathan thought for a moment, then continued:

Wildlife Researcher’s Reconstructed Truth

“To wrap up our ball story: Wildlife Researcher was exasperated to see truth shredded to pieces. He grasped that the different facets of truth were all important and wanted to bring all the colors back together again. But he  realized, ‘all the king’s horses and all the king’s men…cannot put the color ball together again.’” Both smiled. “So, Wildlife Researcher hammered a light plywood cube together. He picked up Scientist’s favorite color and glued it to two (opposite) sides of the cube. On two other (opposite) sides, he glued Artist’s color. The third color was glued to the final two (opposite) surfaces. This, of course, is moral truth.” 

Seeker’s hands were making gestures as he asked, “So, Wildlife Researcher’s truth wasn’t flattened out—two-dimensional—anymore, but it’s also not like the original ball?”

“Right!” said Nathan. “Wildlife Researcher’s truth, like Fisherman’s, is complex and 3D. It was not the ball it used to be, but a cube. This made it easy for Wildlife Researcher to talk to people like scientists. He turned the Truth Cube around until the right color faced his conversation partner. If he talked to people like artists, he flipped the cube so that the artist faced the side that suited his view of truth. When he was talking to Fisherman, Wildlife Researcher tilted his cube to show all three colors at once. He sometimes tilted the cube when speaking to scientists and artists too, to point out that truth is more complex than they may have realized.”

Nathan left Seeker to reflect on this story, as he wouldn’t be able to see him again until the next weekend.

No Amputations

Eight days later, Nathan visited the hospital again. He brought Seeker a Rubik’s cube, with all the original color stickers replaced by three colors only, plus symbolic depictions of each type of truth on the sides.

Seeker thanked him and asked with a hesitant voice, “If I don’t want to end up with the faith crises my mom did, would it be better to stop studying science?”

“What on earth? No! You’ve got me all wrong!” said Nathan. “Science is a wonderful subject, and more science is better than less. Art is also a great endeavor, and emotions are an amazing part of being human. The problem is not with science or art. The problem is what people like Artist and your scientist-mom did to themselves.”

He was silent for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Seeker looked at him with eyes filled with expectation.

Nathan said hesitantly, “When you were in intensive care, a soldier who lost both legs in an explosion was lying in the bed next to yours. I would regularly go say hi to him when I stopped by to support your mom at your bedside. Last week, I visited him in the rehabilitation ward, and he said with a cheeky smile, ‘The one positive thing to come out of losing my legs is I’ll be able to do more pull-ups than my buddies because the weight of my legs is now gone!’”

Seeker found it funny and sad at the same time.

“If this soldier’s friends have their legs amputated just so they can do more pull-ups too, the price they’d be paying for more pull-ups would be way out of whack.”
Nathan could clearly see the eagerness to absorb in Seeker’s face. “Don’t allow your studies or your social groups to amputate an essential part of who you are. Don’t let them partially blind you, leaving you with tunnel vision.” 

He pointed out the hospital window toward the university. “Go study science and become the best scientist in the world if you want. But hold on tight to all the facets of truth.”

Their eyes turned to the door as Scientist entered, having caught Nathan's final words. When Nathan turned to leave, Scientist greeted him from her son’s bedside, “You are a gift to us, Nathan Lucas—giving so much of yourself.” Thinking out loud, she murmured, “True to your name: a bringer of light in our dark time.”

Nathan froze at the doorway. His grandfather’s voice pierced through decades:

“‘Lucas’ means light-bringer.
‘Nathan’… to be a gift to those around you.
Live up to it, boy.”

He'd forgotten.

“Am I? he wondered.
‘Am I becoming…?
Isn’t this what all of us are called to be?’”

He glanced back at Seeker's room one more time.

New Light

For the next week, everyone who came to visit Seeker was treated to the story of a colorful ball and a pair of scissors.

Seeker started to find. He scribbled down his discoveries as he immersed himself in Scripture. Tears of gratitude stained the pages. The bed-bound Seeker was making strides in his spiritual journey. It was almost as if a light had started glistening from his room. Other patients and nursing staff began gravitating to him when they were feeling down or overwhelmed because Seeker listened with sincere interest. They knew they were safe to open up to him, even though he was so young. Truth and love ignited a comforting gleam that emanated to people around him. Even a soldier who lost his legs was drawn by the glow he noticed in his much younger new mentor.

★

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