Among the many metaphors employed
to explain our experiences in life, one of the most versatile and lasting is to
consider it as an extended journey. It
is an uncertain journey full of many crossing paths and fellow travelers. Over
the last few months I have been reminded of just how quickly the scenery can
change on our journey, and that while we all are headed towards the same
destination we do not always walk the road together.
When I was very young, I
misunderstood the word “sojourn.” I thought that it meant fixed, grounded, and
permanent. I suppose this is because the only context that I had for the word
was in the title of the famous “Sojourner Truth.” I considered any word linked
to truth must be similarly grounded and absolute. I learned after several years that it meant
quite the opposite, much to my adolescent embarrassment. I was mortified that I
had on several occasions casually used the term incorrectly. I don’t think that
many people caught on; if they did, they mercifully humored my juvenile ego.
This mistake of mine has upon further reflection many years later proven quite
instructive to me.
At this point in my life my view of
the people around me was rather static. I was raised in a deeply conservative
environment that acknowledged and respected certain absolute moral truths. This
firm foundation formed the core of my personal perspective. At this point in my
life the only “true” perspective was the one that I myself possessed. It was my
self-informed position that if everyone just saw “truth” the way that I did,
the vast majority of the problems in the world would simply solve themselves. I
thought that really all the world needed was a proper education. Given this
arrogance, I now find it unsurprising that the only possible concept that I
could assign an unknown word when placed next to “truth” in a sentence was that
of a load-bearing permanence.
As I continue on my life’s journey
and look back at what I have learned in the relatively short distance from that
time to this one, the most meaningful lesson that I have learned is that so
much of what it means to be a good person comes not from trying to get people
to understand you. It comes from trying to understand and learn from them. It
is not easy to do. On more occasions than I care to admit I have been guilty of
opening my ears but closing my heart, usually because I was scared that I was
wrong. I think almost all of us have questions that we try not to ask too
loudly, because we are afraid.
I have a talent for argumentative
belligerence. While at times intellectual cheap shots seem to “beat” people who
think differently than we do, we usually only wound ourselves. We start to
constantly seek out our own weak-spots, so that we can use them to
counterattack. We stretch the truth in order to make our arguments more
convincing and “arbitrary” so that an “objective person” would side with us in
a battle of belief. Perhaps the greatest tragedy comes when we “win.” I pray
that no one else has seen the pain of spirit that can be caused by using
intellect as a weapon in the name of “truth.” I did one night as a young man in
small house on the outskirts of Russellville, Arkansas. I was young missionary,
teaching a woman who was going through a crisis of faith. She was lashing out
at us, and the doctrines that we taught. I knew her well, and I knew the bible
well, and to my great shame I used that knowledge to “win” an argument I didn’t
understand. At this point in my life, I
don’t think that I could have even if I tried.
What I did learn very quickly was
that I was wrong. I felt it in deepest part of myself, and I wept bitter tears
when I started to comprehend what I was guilty of. I had used the words of the
Lord Jesus Christ with malicious intent. I had not been concerned with that
woman’s soul, I was worried about my own pride. In following weeks I tried to
reach out to her, and to close the wound I had torn open, but the damage had
been done. In time I came to feel that there was not more that I could do at
that time and that we both had a lot of growing to do before that wound could
heal.
I don’t want anyone to get the
wrong idea. I was on a mission for the right reasons, and I believed in what I
was teaching, and I truly came to love the people I met during my time in
Arkansas. This was a moment of weakness, and a lesson that I needed to learn.
Change unfortunately often requires trauma of one sort or another. I just wish
that I had been a better man, and that I would have started down this road a
different way. As it is, I remain forever indebted to this good woman, who
helped me to ask the right questions of myself. She remains nameless here, but
is precious in my memory.
Sojourner Truth was a famous
abolitionist. As a young man I was fascinated with the characters of Harriet
Truman, Frederick Douglass, and Sojourner Truth. I felt particularly drawn to
Frederick Douglass, because he was a gifted orator. Most people who know me
well know that I have a certain love of meaningful language. These people still
astound me. They embody conviction, passion, courage, and the universal triumph
of truth. I do still believe in truth. I believe that there are answers to the
big questions. I believe that living our lives according the pattern given to
us by our Father in Heaven is the way to lasting personal peace. However, what
I KNOW is that truth is not easy. I know that truth requires personal effort.
At least for me, moments of clarity and truth have come when I have let faith
hold me steady long enough to ask the hard questions honestly. It has come when
I have opened my heart to others, and let them teach me.
I still have a long road ahead of
me on my journey towards truth. Those that know me well know that I still can
settle into a bellicose myopia. It is one of many faults of character that I
must remain watchful against if I hope to become all that we all should be. I
take great comfort that at least I do not have to make this journey alone. It
seems that most of the people closest to me have come into my life just when I
needed them. Even when life leads us away from each other again I treasure the
part of me that they helped to build, and refinement of perspective their
friendship provided. To each of you, known and unknown, thank you.
