Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Nothing But the Truth"

Text: John 17:6-19

There are so many jokes running around about truth …

The lawyer goes to the dentist,

and as he is settling into the chair,

he whips a Bible out of his pocket,

makes the dentist lay her hand on it, and says,

"Do you swear to pull the tooth, the whole tooth,

and nothing but the tooth?"

Different lawyer goes to see the fortuneteller,

and as she takes her seat on the opposite side of the crystal ball,

she demands,

"Do you swear to say the sooth, the whole sooth,

and nothing but the sooth?"

That ritual from the courtroom setting

has entered our common vocabulary,

so much so, that it is more like a memorized incantation

than words that have much meaning.

Granted, of course, we each have our own perception of reality and of truth;

even so, do we really think that, in many court cases,

everyone who gets up there on the stand

really believes they are telling the truth?

Do we really think that Enron’s top executives,

in their heart of hearts,

believe themselves to be completely innocent?

What is truth?

Is it what the jury says it is?

Is it whatever the cleverest attorney got us to believe?

Is it what can be "proven" scientifically?

Is it whatever you can determine with your own five senses?

Jesus prays that his disciples may be sanctified "in the truth."

But what is truth?

Sometimes it’s easier to see what is not truth, isn’t it?

Maybe that’s a place to start.

Child psychologists have discovered that most of us tell our first lie very young,

after we’ve only just begun to talk.

We learn that you can do something on purpose,

but if you pretend that it was an accident,

the consequences aren’t nearly as severe.

So the first lie that most of us tell is, "Oops!"

Mark Twain says that in his case,

it happened even earlier than that:

"I do not remember my first lie," says Twain,

"it is too far back;

but I remember my second one very well.

I was nine days old at the time,

and had noticed that if a pin was sticking in me

and I advertised it in the usual fashion,

I was lovingly petted and coddled

and pitied in a most agreeable way,

and got a ration between meals besides.

I lied about the pin –

advertising when there wasn’t any.

You would have done it;

George Washington did it,

anybody would have done it.

During the first half of my life I never knew a child

that was about to rise above that temptation

and keep from telling that lie."

("My First Lie and How I Got Out of It," in On the Damned Human Race)

We never quite give up those early lies, do we?

"Honey, it was an accident, I swear!

That other driver came out of nowhere!"

[Of course, I might have reacted faster

if I hadn’t had the cell phone in one hand

and my Breakfast McBiscuit in the other …

But I’m not admitting to that! …]

And okay, we have to give up pretending about diaper pins,

or so I would hope …

But who hasn’t magnified a minor injury or illness

either to get out of a day of work,

or to get sympathy from a parent or spouse,

or to make the person responsible feel guilty?

We aren’t exactly strangers to the truth …

But sometimes it is so inconvenient!

Yet, Jesus wants for us the truth.

But what is it?

It’s not our clever fibs and exaggerations, obviously.

But that doesn’t narrow it down very much.

What is truth?

You remember, I suppose,

who it is in the Bible who asks that question … ?

It’s Pontius Pilate …

when he is questioning Jesus,

right before deciding that he should be crucified.

Jesus says to him,

"Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice,"

and Pilate brushes him off by asking,

"What is truth?"

By which we can see that Pilate

is probably the first postmodernist in history.

"All truth is relative."

"We each make our own truth."

"You can never know anything for certain."

"There is no truth,

only each person’s individual perception of it."

The world of today – especially in the educated West –

is postmodern in outlook.

There are no universals,

only each person’s particular take on reality.

In fact, there may not even be a consistent reality,

only perception.

What’s interesting is to hear that same philosophy

coming from the mouth of an ancient Roman:

What is truth?

Is it what Caesar has decreed?

Is it what Jesus says?

Is it what the mob wants?

In the midst of those competing claims,

Pilate simply sidesteps the question of who is telling the truth,

and settles for what is expedient.

What is most likely to save his own skin.

There is no truth …

only the greatest good for the greatest number.

Okay, we’re making progress,

though in a roundabout kind of way.

Truth is not our little manipulations …

truth is not the same as a utilitarian philosophy

that sees only ends, regardless of means.

What is it?

That question would be easier to answer

if we lived at almost any time in history other than our own.

If you were a Christian in the Middle Ages, say …

the "truth" would be that God created the earth in seven 24-hour days,

the sun revolves around the earth –

which is flat, by the way –

and anyone who does not believe in Jesus is going to hell.

If you were an ancient Greek,

the "truth" would be that there are many gods,

and although you will probably choose one of them

to be your main patron,

you’d better be sure to show respect to them all,

up there on Mount Olympus, where they live.

If you were an early Marxist,

your "truth" would be that there is no god,

that God was just created by people who have power

in order to keep people without power in their place,

by promising them rewards if they behave,

and punishment if they don’t.

So, can we even answer the question "what is truth?"

Or does each of us have to find our own answer,

undertake our own quest,

create our own spiritual universe?

Jesus, of course, makes the statement that he is the truth:

"I am the way, the truth, and the life."

But does he mean by that

that we have to "believe in him"

in whatever way our tradition has taught us?

Are there certain "true" statements about Jesus

that we absolutely must believe

if we are to be saved, whatever we mean by "saved"?

Or is he the truth

because he shows us, and tells us,

what is true about God?

It seems to me in reading the gospels in particular

that truth makes us uncomfortable not only when it exposes bad news

about who we are, or what we’ve done, etc. …

the truth also makes us uncomfortable when it is good news!

Jesus keeps going around forgiving sins,

and it messes with everyone’s mind.

What does it mean to believe that God is loving and merciful,

instead of angry and punitive?

Do we dare believe in such a truth?

Especially, do we dare to believe it

for people who have sinned against us?

Jesus heals dozens of people as he travels,

and so those who see it are both awed and frightened.

What does it mean that God wants us to be well and whole,

and that God’s representative doesn’t strike down sinners

with plagues and boils and other nasty diseases?

Do we dare to believe that?

Can we use that to argue with those who claim, for example,

that AIDS is God’s way of punishing you-know-who?

Jesus listened to the stories of ordinary people,

and he helped them with their problems,

and he didn’t care if he had to break a few rules to do so.

What does it mean that God apparently, really, does

think that human beings are more important than rules?

Even if they are good rules, for the most part?

Do we dare to believe that God is more interested in our motivation

than in the end results,

or in the careful accounting of commandments?

Jesus confronted people when they did wrong, to be sure,

but he did so in a way that embraced them within the family of faith,

and helped them to change because they wanted to change,

not because they were afraid not to.

What does it mean that God

loves us into change and growth,

and is not interested in frightening us into behaving?

Do we dare to believe that God loves us as we are,

even though both of us know we can be still better?

And what happens when we believe that God loves all people as they are,

even those who frighten us, or make us angry,

or irritate us beyond belief?

The truth is that God is love.

Jesus reveals that to us clearly.

We can see it in other ways, too, to be sure,

but he shows it the most openly.

Whatever other truths there are

that we find in and for our lives,

must begin with this one.

God is love.

Whatever untruths we have told,

whatever bad we have done,

still, it happens in the context of the truth:

God is love.

Whatever justice needs doing,

whatever is broken that must be mended,

whatever hurt must be healed,

these happen in the light of future redemption, because …

God is love.

There is much that we know to be "true" that will change.

There is much that we know to be "true" that is wrong.

Our memories fail us, our knowledge is incomplete;

even our magnificent science has its limitations.

But what we know from Jesus as truth

will not fail us, nor will it change;

and I pray that it will never be forgotten:

God is love.

Anything else we know, or think we know,

is a secondary truth.

May we be sanctified in this truth,

so that we may live in its light,

and share it with the world.

Amen.

© 2006 Julie Adkins (e-mail: DrJAdkins@trinitypresdallas.org)