Living in the Shadow of Denial

Living in the Shadow of Denial

Deuteronomy 6:1-9

            We live in a time of alternate truths.  Because of this we live in a time of denial.  You deny the accuracy of my truth.  I deny the validity of your truth.  We receive our “truths” from different sources, so the argument becomes source against source, your science against my science, My shade of gray against your shade of gray. 

            In this atmosphere we can never reach agreement.  To do so one of us would have to change his (her) paradigm—our way of seeing the world and our place in it.  That’s difficult because the one who changes has to begin by admitting he/she has been wrong.

            Why do I find it so difficult to admit I’m wrong? 

            I find it difficult to admit my paradigm is wrong because of my ego.  It’s like saying I’m sorry when I’ve done something to hurt you.  I know I did it, I know you—and our relationship—are suffering because of what I did, but my ego gets in the way of admitting my mistake.

            I find it difficult to admit my paradigm is wrong because I fear your reaction.  I know you will say, “I told you so!  Of course you were wrong!  Now you’ve admitted it I’ll lord it over you.  I’ll never let you forget it.”  In my saner moments I admit that the chances of you saying those things is small, but fear is irrational, and gets in the way of admitting my beliefs are incorrect.

            I find it difficult to admit my paradigm is wrong because if I’m wrong the consequences are overwhelming.  This is especially true in matters of religious belief.  If you’re right and I’m wrong, then it’s you who will find eternal pleasure at the end of the tunnel and I who will find eternal damnation.  There’s no room in this way of thinking for the possibility that both of our paradigms contain some correct and some incorrect beliefs.

            Some would argue that there are few if any absolute truths.  That everything is relative.  That a search for perfect truth is a fool’s errand and a waste of time.  This is what Pilate may have had in mind when he asked Jesus, “What is truth?”

            The greatest problem with this line of reasoning is that if there are no absolute truths can we say there are any truths at all?  We hear politicians and apologists for politicians argue that there are “alternate truths,” alternate sets of facts that are as valid as what most people consider basic truths.  If my facts have the possibility of being as true as your facts are, when yours are based on proven principles and mine are based on rumor, innuendo, and supposition, we’re living in a time of denial.

            The God of Israel presented the new nation with a list of truths.  We call the most important of these the Ten Commandments.  Many centuries have proven the validity of these truths.  Even if we set aside the first four, the ones about humankind’s relationship with God, and say they belong only to the religious realm, time has proven the validity of the remaining six.  Civilization works better when this ethical system is followed.

            Then, in Deuteronomy, the second giving of the law, another commandment is proclaimed, and identified as the greatest commandment: “There is one God; and you shall love that God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.”  This commandment is meant to shape not only our relationship with God but with our fellow humans as well, for we cannot love God without loving God’s creatures—and that includes everyone. 

            That’s the truth!  We can’t deny it.