Musings on Truth
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by Rose Mary Dougherty
In reading about South Africa in preparation for some work I will be doing there with Tilden Edwards, I came across a story of a magnificent bird which some have seen and called "the bird of truth." This bird is said to be elusive, rarely seen by individuals, and never within their grasp.The tale is told of a wise man who spent most of his life looking for the bird. Finally, as he lay dying, he caught a glimpse of it. A feather from its tail dropped into his hand. He could stop looking. He was free to go home.
As I read about this bird, I began to wonder about the nature of truth. I asked myself the question Pilate once asked Jesus, "What is truth?" And I realized that I had no real answer.
I thought of the times that I had considered the facts of a situation as though they were truth, only to find out that the truth somehow transcended those facts. I recalled times when I thought I knew the truth of a person, only to realize that what I knew was the tiniest glimpse into a mystery which lay beyond what I could know. I sometimes wonder if I even want to see the truth.
This summer I visited the Canadian Rockies. There was so much beauty there--the beauty of friends, of mountains, glaciers, lakes, and animals such as elk, mountain goat, and sheep. But it wasn't enough for me. I had my heart set on seeing a bear, a black bear or a grizzly.
A large ceramic bear marked the entrance of the last motel of our trip. I laughingly said, "Well, I guess that's as close to a bear as I'll get." But that evening at dinner, our waitress assured me that there were bears in the area. She said, in fact, that one had clawed her door the night before.
At dawn the next day, I started for a solitary walk. Going down through the parking lot, I saw the bear at a distance. I stopped, turned around, and quickly headed for my room. Then I remembered. That bear wasn't real; it was ceramic. I doubted that I really wanted to see a bear anyway.
My reaction to it, I suspect, is the same as my reaction to truth. I want it until I am faced with it. Then I run. How close will I dare come to truth? Can I ever come close to truth at all?
Sometimes I think that truth is indeed an elusive bird of South Africa or a hidden bear in the Rockies. We hear of its presence yet seldom experience it for ourselves. But then I recall the words of Jesus, "You will know the truth and the truth will set you free."
I heard those words as promise some years ago during a retreat. As I was praying over the death of Jesus, I felt enveloped by love. Then the words, "You will know the truth ...." Whatever else I know or don't know about truth, I believe it is inseparable from love.
I also believe that truth is related to solitude and community, though I'm not sure how. Is it that the seeds of truth are sown in community and nurtured in solitude? Or perhaps the seeds of truth are sown in solitude and nurtured in community. However truth is given and nurtured, its fruits are shared in community as we "speak the truth in love." (Ephesians 4:15)
No one of us has the fullness of truth, which is why I think Jesus' promise of truth is meant to be realized in community. Perhaps that is the reason he later prayed, "May they all be one." (John 17:10) And perhaps the fullness of truth is only a possibility when the oneness for which Jesus prayed becomes a reality.
As Tilden and I prepare to journey to South Africa, I pray that the bird of truth will visit the various communities of which we will be a part. Perhaps like the wise man in the tale, we, too, will catch a glimpse of it. Perhaps we will be given a feather from its tail and be graced with a little more freedom as we return home.
© 2008 The Shalem Institute.