“THE ANATOMY OF TRUTH”
A Sermon by the Rev. Bruce Clear
Sunday,
All
I love a good mystery story. In the summer, when I have some extra time
for reading books for pleasure, one of my favorite guilty pleasures is mystery
stories. Whodunits. You know, follow the clues to find the
solution.
I’ve sometimes said that Unitarian
Universalism is a religion for detectives.
Among religious traditions, we are more in the business of searching for
truth than we are in the business of Truth itself. Life for us is not a history book, or a scientific
treatise, or a scripture book, where all the facts are laid out plainly, and
all you have to do is follow the facts as described by the manual. Rather, life is more like a mystery book,
where you're unsure what will happen next, where the clues to life are not
necessarily obvious, where it takes some work to have it all make some sense, where
the search leads us to dead ends sometimes, and where you just have to make
your best guesses along the way. In a detective
story, if you know precisely how it's going to turn out, it isn't much worth
reading in the first place. So it is, it
seems to me, with life and meaning.
The search for truth is
one of the great detective stories of all time.
It’s been going on since the beginning of recorded history, and there is
no reason to think it will ever come to an end.
Great truth detectives like Plato and Aristotle, or Isaac Newton or
Shakespeare have all taken a crack at the nature of truth, but the mystery is
still with us.
The covenant we repeat in this
church each Sunday speaks of seeking “the truth.” Truth, in fact, is a simple idea to grasp,
but it is also filled with astounding nuances of meaning. This sermon is about those nuances. It is about the clues that need to be
considered in the search for truth. The
search for truth is the detective story of religious inquiry.
When we speak of the “search for truth,” what do you suppose is meant
by that phrase? The fact is that if you
dissect the concept of “Truth” carefully enough, it turns out to have a very
unreliable, or at least variable, meaning.
There are, to put it simply, quite a few dimensions of “truths” to be
sought. And at some stage in our detective
work we need to allow for those variable dimensions.
What is meant by the idea of
“truth”? The simplest and most straight
forward dimension of truth is mere statement of fact. Statements of fact are easy to come by. The sky is blue, there are four seasons in
the earth’s temperate zones, water is made up of two parts hydrogen and one
part oxygen, but ocean water also has salt, and most televisions will be tuned
to the Superbowl today. These are facts
that are true and we can demonstrate their truth. Simple statements of fact provide one
dimension of truth.
But any mere statement of fact does
not necessarily provide the proof beyond a reasonable doubt that detectives
need when they are searching for truth.
For example, take this simple “fact”:
there are nine planets in our solar system. That is a statement of fact we all have
learned from childhood, and we’ve accepted it as a true statement our whole
lives. That is, until the last few
months. Astronomers have recently
announced what appears to be a tenth planet, far beyond Pluto, which is even
larger than the planet Pluto. Suddenly,
a “truth of fact” we all believed for so long needs revision.
Here’s another “statement of fact,”
that was taken as truth a few years ago:
Saddam Hussein was hiding weapons of mass destruction. This was presented as truth beyond any
reasonable doubt. Most of us believed
it. Even many of us who had serious
doubts about the justification of going to war still accepted as “true” the
statement that Saddam Hussein was hiding weapons of mass destruction. We saw the photographs, we read the
depositions from eye witnesses, and we listened to the sworn testimony of
expert witnesses. The evidence for the
truth of that statement of fact was so overwhelming that the world’s most
powerful nation decided to wage war because of it. But we have since discovered that even ostensible
statements of fact are subject to human error of interpretation. We have also learned that sometimes the
consequences of human error can be lethal.
But even if there is some reason to
have reservations concerning some statements of fact, nevertheless facts are
the most elementary dimension of truth. Statements
of fact are the kind of truth that science is set on discovering. They want to know the cause of this
phenomenon or that one, and very often they are able to come up with a truthful
answer, a statement of fact.
Yet facts aren’t the only kind of
truth. There are other dimensions of
truth that can’t be expressed or understood simply as “statements of
fact.” Instead of truths about facts we
can think of truths about life. We can
come up with quite a few if we think about it:
It is better to give than to receive.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Two heads are better than one in solving problems.
We will reap what we sow in life.
Know the truth, for the truth will set you free.
Not one of these statements is a
“statement of fact,” like we would think of scientific statements such as “all
matter is composed of atoms.” Of any of
these statements is it possible to say, “this statement is either true or false?” Each of these statements has some claim to
the truth – each one has some dimension of being true. But as a detective it isn’t easy to find the
evidence to establish beyond a reasonable doubt any of the statements as being
either true or false. What is the
possible connection between the truth of these statements and the truth of
statements of facts? It may be more
reasonable to think of the true dimension of these statements as “truth about
living” rather than “truth about facts.”
We can also move this question to
yet another dimension of truth. The list
of questions I offered are ones that are, I think, generally accepted even if
they can’t be pinned down as statements of fact. Religious traditions bring us to another
level of expressing the idea of truth.
We can come up with a list of statements that have a claim to truth, but
may not have the same kind of claim as scientific statements of fact. Try these statements on for size:
The Lord thy God is One.
We will be rewarded or punished for how we live our life.
The world is an interdependent web of life, of which we are one part.
The soul survives the body at death.
Jesus was the Son of God.
There is a spiritual dimension to life that gives us all inherent value.
Mohammed was God’s prophet.
Again, all these statements are
truth-claims, yet none of them can be considered as a “statement of fact” the
way we would consider scientific statements like “vegetation requires water and
sunlight to survive.” Detectives would
be at a loss to produce evidence for showing any of these statements as being
true or false. That may be why they are
called statements “of faith,” even though they have some claim to truth.
Religion and philosophy have a lot
to say about the idea of “truth,” but I think it is a mistake at the outset to
think of truths of meaning or truths of living in the same way we would think
of truths that are statements of fact.
Since science has provided a fairly reliable model for truth as
statement of fact, that has become our model for what “truth” means in every
case. But the most significant truths
are not like that.
When we speak of truth it seems to
me that we have a certain mental image in our mind. When we speak of truth we think of it like a
destination at the end of a train line.
We are want to get there – that is, get to the truth – and once we get
there then we are finished. We’ve
arrived. We have what we need and there
is no where else to go.
Or let me offer another visual
metaphor. Sometimes we think of life as
a kind of jigsaw puzzle, and each tiny oddly-shaped piece in the puzzle is a
statement of truth. All we have to do is
identify each piece, each truth, so we can put it where it is supposed to go,
and when we are done, the puzzle is complete and so is life.
These metaphors might work in some
limited way with scientific statements of fact.
It is conceivable that the accumulation of facts can lead us to a final
destination of understanding how the world works. It is also conceivable that gathering
together enough facts can, like the pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, show us the
complete picture of the way the world works.
But these metaphors are not as accurate when it comes to “Truths” of
living rather than “Truths” of facts.
Most of us experience life as a
series of dilemmas, a series of problems to be solved. Discovering a little truth here and a little
truth there that may help solve a problem of life for us, but when it does
another problem will present itself and more truths of living, or at least new
truths of living, will be needed to address the new problems.
Truths of fact are fairly easy to
come by, but they are not the truths we most want. What we want is to discover truths about what
is right and wrong, truths about the key to happiness, truths about the purpose
of our lives. These categories of truths
can not be examined in a test-tube or observed in a laboratory. These truths are not necessarily statements
of fact.
Unlike truths of fact, truths of
living take us to a destination, but when we get there we realize there are other
destinations that are also worth visiting, so we hop back on the train. Unlike truths of fact, with truths of living
the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle may fit, but as soon as we put the last piece
in, the whole picture suddenly changes and becomes jumbled again, so we need to
find a new arrangement for the pieces in order for the picture to make sense
again.
Truths of living are not insights
about how the world works or what causes things to happen. Such questions are truths of fact. Rather, truths of living concern what we
ought to do with our lives, how to find fulfillment, what makes life worth
living. The contemporary philosopher
Richard Rorty distinguishes between truths of fact and truths of living and
calls the latter “redemptive truth.” Redemptive
truth, for him, means truths that tell us how to live and how to find
happiness. These truths are different in
kind from truths of fact because they can’t be observed or tested, and they are
not necessarily the same for everyone.
Redemptive truth is what religion and philosophy have tried to discover
throughout human history.
This idea of redemptive truth is
alien to most Western religions.
Religions tend to claim that their tenets are “redemptive” – that is to
say, they make life meaningful – because those tenets are true, like the law of
gravity is true.
But with truths of living, the
logical order is reversed. Religious
claims are not redemptive because
they are true. Rather, claims become true when they are redemptive –
when they show us how to live and how to be happy.
Truths of living are not true
because they correspond or represent a true reality or fact. Truths of living are true when they help us
cope with whatever life deals us.
The great philosopher and
psychologist William James may have been the first to propose this pragmatic
definition of truth. “Truth, he said,
“happens to an idea. It becomes true, is
made true by events.” In other words,
truths of living, unlike truths of fact, depend for their veracity on the
circumstances. Truth has a practical
dimension ot it.
Let me offer an example of what I
mean by truth having a practical or useful dimension. What is the truth about human freedom? Put simply, do human beings have free
will? The answer is not obvious. You could not persuade any jury beyond a reasonable
doubt either way. I mentioned last week
that even Albert Einstein firmly denied the existence of free will. So, by the way, did Abraham Lincoln. They may be in the minority on this question
among great minds, but we cannot deny their testimony as expert witnesses to
the Truth of this question.
It would seem the question has a
“yes or no” answer. Either human beings
have free will or they don’t. There
must, we think, be a truth here to be uncovered, like whether ocean tides are
affected by the moon – either it’s true or it’s not true.
I suggest that the question of free
will has more to do with “redemptive truth” than with factual truth. It is a “truth of living” not a statement of
fact. That is to say, does belief in
free will serve to help us shape our lives and live better lives? Or, let me ask it differently: Is it possible for you to make a choice at
all without a belief in free will?
If you need that belief in order to
make choices in life then free will becomes true. I think this is what William James meant when
he said truth “happens to an idea.”
Or take the question of human worth
and dignity. Is it true that every
person has inherent value as a human being?
Detectives looking for material evidence to prove this one way or
another will fail. Objective proof of
this truth of inherent human worth and dignity cannot be produced. This is not a truth of fact. But to the extent that each person is treated
with respect for their inherent worth and dignity, then the claim becomes
true.
“Truths of living” – and that includes religious truth – are substantively
different form statements of fact.
Truths of living become true when we live them.
Finally, I want to make a
distinction between truth and freedom. It
seems to me these two values are incompatible if we think of truth in terms of
statements of fact. Most religions, for
example, make the claim that their tenets and doctrines and creeds are true,
just as the law of gravity is true. But
factual truths rule out freedom. Factual
truths are a destination.
If we accept the law of gravity, for
example, then there is no reason to look for alternative explanations of apples
falling to the ground. One might wonder
whether, in fact, under the soil there exists a huge magnet that draws
everything toward itself. But by
accepting the factual truth of the law of gravity, our curiosity is satisfied
and our search for truth is over. There
is no need for freedom to explore other alternative explanations.
If religion offers “truths for
living,” then, there is no need to explore further for other truths. If the search for truth is over, then freedom
to find other ways of thinking is superfluous.
Religions that are based on creed,
then, have no need for freedom. If we
know the truth as a fact, there is no need to explore farther. I mention this because I like to be reminded
that there is a natural tension between freedom and truth, and in that tension
Unitarian Universalism comes down on the side of freedom.
The search for truth is important to
us, of course, but in the end, there would be no search if the truth were to be
found, finally and completely. Let’s
keep searching.
Religion remains alive to the extent
that it opens itself up to freely exploring new truths and does not rest secure
on old truths that will die. The
nineteenth century American poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes, himself an active
Unitarian, spoke of this in a poem entitled, “The Mind’s Diet”:
No life worth naming
ever comes to good
If always nourished
on the selfsame food; …
No reasoning natures
find it safe to feed,
For their diet,
on a single creed.