"The Truth" (Part 3)

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here today to draw the final conclusion. The title of this post is “The Truth” for a very important reason: there seem to be more and more people nowadays who don’t know the truth. Not only do they not know the truth, but they are also convinced in their hearts that the lie they believe instead is actually the truth.

I am going to explain it in detail in this final part, and I want to tell you that nothing you’ve ever read in your life is more important than this. I don’t want to “sell” my writing by sensationalizing it. I make zero dollars per month (and that’s going to be my profit for a very long time) as a result of writing on this blog.

Why am I doing it then? For a simple reason: the Truth does not depend on its acceptance by the listener. I know the Truth, and the fact that I know it doesn’t change it. If I didn’t know it, it would still be the same. Even if nobody else knew it, it would still be the same, because the Truth is the Truth.

I am a language teacher, but I used to study science. Physics was my favorite subject in school and high school, and I also attended the courses of the University of Physics in Bucharest for a short while until I realized I didn’t want to become a physics teacher, and rethought my vocation.

So, everything I’ll be saying in this part will be backed up by science. The Truth, from a scientific point of view, should be more easily accepted. Again, the Truth is the same whether we have ever heard about it or not, whether we accept it or not, whether we understand the “science” behind it or the philosophy that tries to explain it.

I am going to have a simple experiment today. For it I will need a bar of lead (one of the heaviest metals), a bathtub with water and another one with mercury (the only liquid metal). Don’t ask me where I got so much mercury, cause I’m not going to tell you. In my imagination I can get anything no matter how expensive it is.

All I need now to do the experiment is a third grader. Any volunteers? Okay, thank you for offering to participate in the experiment. “Don’t mention it.” Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll take the bar of lead and put it in the bathtub with water. What do you think will happen to it? “It will sink.” Wow, you’re smart! Are you sure you’re in the third grade? Now, do I have to actually do it? “What do you mean?” I mean, you said the bar of lead will sink in the bathtub with water. Do I have to actually do it to prove that it will sink? “Oh, no, of course not. Even a monkey that didn’t go to school knows that.”

Perfect. What about the bathtub with mercury? What do you think will happen if I put the bar of lead in there? “I don’t know. I think it will sink also.” No, it will not. The bar of lead will float. “Really?” Yes. It’s simple physics. The density of lead is 11.3g/cm³ while that of mercury is 13.5g/cm³ so, according to Archimedes’s Law of hydrostatics, lead will float in mercury. “I didn’t understand anything of what you’ve just said, but, wow!, that’s amazing.” Now you know why this experiment had to be conducted with a third grader as opposed to a tenth grader or a university student or a college professor. “Yes, I do. You picked me because I have no idea about that Archimedes guy or hydro-whatever you said back there.”

Okay. So I said all that mumble-jumble but I still haven’t proved to you that the bar of lead will float. Just because I say fancy words, and I claim to be an “expert” in physics, does it mean you have to believe me? “Well, I kinda have no choice. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself. I mean, if I say, no I don’t believe you, and you put the bar of lead in mercury and it floats, that will make me the dunce of the class.” You’re a smart kid, and I like the way you think. But remember, just because I say something is true doesn’t mean you have to believe it. Only because I’m older and the performer of the experiment, okay? “Okey-dokey.”

Now comes the most important question of the evening: do you think the truth about the bar of lead sinking or floating in mercury depends on what I say about it or what you believe of what I say? “Come again?” I’m sorry, let me rephrase it: the bar of lead will float in mercury, and that’s the truth. Do you think that can be changed if I say it will sink or if you don’t believe it will float? “Oh, I see what you mean.” So? Can the truth be different based on what I say about it or what you believe? “No, obviously not.”

Good. So we’ve just proven what I started to prove by this experiment: The truth cannot be altered by the surrounding factors such as talking about it, lying about it, believing it, or not believing it. Lead floats in mercury whether I say it does or it doesn’t and whether you believe it does or it doesn’t. Because it’s the truth. Thanks for your help.

Now for the next experiment I need an atheist who is convinced one hundred percent there is no God. If he or she is a professor at Stanford University, so much better. Or, better still, let’s bring ten of them, or one hundred. What the hell, let’s bring them all. There’s plenty of room in my imaginary experiment.

The experiment I am going to perform is very similar to the previous one. Actually, it’s just a question: Does God’s existence depend on what I say about it or what you believe from what I say? You don’t have to answer that; the answer is obvious. As in our previous example, the truth cannot be altered by the surrounding factors such as talking about it, lying about it, believing it, or not believing it.

Now comes the tricky part. You’re gonna say that in this case we can’t prove it by actually putting the bar of lead in the bathtub with mercury and seeing that it floats. Okay. You have a very good point there. But did the truth in the previous example depend on whether I completed the experiment or not? Like, if I put the bar of lead in the tub and I see it floats I’ll believe the truth, but if I don’t put it and keep holding it in my hand I’ll go, well, I’m not so sure about it!

“It’s still not the same thing.” Please answer the question, professor! Does the truth depend on whether or not you perform the experiment to find it? “Yes, of course. Your experiment will actually determine whether the answer is yes or no for whatever question you are asking.” Interesting. I’m glad we have an atheist here who wouldn’t go down without a fight. But, professor, you misunderstood my question. Try to pay more attention please. Maybe we need another illustration.

Let’s say we discover a new metal. We’ll call it newmetalium. It appears to be very heavy, heavier that lead, but we don’t know exactly its density. We still have the bathtub with mercury from the previous experiment (fictional experiments are so convenient because you can do them again right after you’ve cleaned up the test tubes, sold the spectrometer for parts, or extinguished the fire caused by the explosion) and we’re going to sink the bar of newmetalium in it. Now, we don’t know whether it’s going to sink of float, because nobody has ever put that metal in mercury. I’m going to play a little game here to make our experiment even crazier.

The finding of newmetalium was such a huge media event that they even had CNN broadcast the actual experiment. At nine o’clock sharp, when the audience is at its peak, they show live as I ease the bar of newmetalium into the bathtub of mercury. Nobody on earth breathes for a few seconds as they watch the bar of newmetalium disappear below the surface of the liquid mercury. So it sinks! It’s heavier than mercury! Everybody is amazed by the new discovery, and some scientists, in various corners of the globe, hug each other in a friendly, yet excited way. They know the truth now: newmetalium is heavier than mercury.

Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Guys! Aren’t you missing something here? What time was it when we performed the experiment? “Nine o’clock.” Okay. Now, remember what you said five minutes before the experiment? You said, and I quote, “We don’t know if newmetalium is heavier than mercury.” That was at eight fifty-five. Now, at nine oh-five, you know it’s heavier.

If you don’t mind my asking–and I apologize for making you answer such a kindergarten question–was newmetalium heavier than mercury at eight fifty-five? “Well, duh!” But at eight fifty-five you said you didn’t know! “That’s because the experiment was performed at nine. Of course we didn’t know the result five minutes before.” Fair enough. But the truth that newmetalium is heavier than mercury was actually in effect even before you did the experiment, wasn’t it? You just didn’t know it, that’s the difference. The truth was the same, though. And the fact that you went on with the experiment didn’t change the truth, did it?

As a matter of fact, newmetalium would have been heavier than mercury even if we had decided to cancel the whole experiment along with the live CNN broadcast, and never perform it again. Keep it like an enigma sort of thing. A myth. The greatest mystery of the twenty-first century! Is newmetalium heavier than mercury or not?

We could have destroyed that bar of newmetalium (the only one ever found) and future generations of scientists would have dedicated their entire lives and careers to solving the mystery, because we–let’s face it!–love mysteries.

Guess what! It is eight fifty-five! And I have a question for you: is there a God or not? Some will say, “Yes there is,” others, “No there isn’t,” and yet others, “I don’t know yet,” or even, “I don’t really care.” But no matter which answer you pick, the truth about God’s existence is only one and it’s not going to change. It will be the same at nine oh-five, as it has always been, and again, remember: it does not depend on my saying there is a God or not, or on your believing what I say or not.

There is only one thing I want to add before I finish. Remember the man and the island in Parts 1 and 2? I am that man. And the old man in the hut on the mountain is God. I accidentally found him on that island. I have to admit I was looking for something, basically the truth–that’s why I was sailing the endless ocean farther and farther away every time–but I had no idea what I would find or whether I would find something or not.

Now, I can’t say I am very happy with the turn of events. I was in that hut for a little while (even though it seemed like an eternity) and I felt incredible in there. But the old man sent me back to my homeland. I could have stayed there and felt that wonderful sensation forever, but I didn’t. Now, that I think about it, I can’t remember exactly whether I left because I wanted to or because the old man wanted me to. The thing is that he simply said, “It’s time for you to go home now,” and I replied, “Okay.” I didn’t feel the need to ask any questions like, “Why?” or “Can’t I stay for a little while longer?” or “What’s going to happen to me now?”

I suppose he wanted me to go back home and start telling the other people about the island. I didn’t do that. I only told one friend, and when I saw his reaction, I decided never to tell again. I was afraid people would think I was crazy.

Now, you may wonder, “Why didn’t you try to go back to the island since it was such a wonderful place to be in?” Well, the answer to that question is simple: remember the fruit the old man gave me? The one without any seeds. That fruit is called The Truth. Once you eat from it you become part of God, and it doesn’t matter how far away you are from the magical island, you always feel like you are actually there. You feel like you belong.

I know some of you, the atheists who believe in evolution, will laugh at my post. I even met people who said, “I don’t doubt my conviction at all! I believe there is no God one hundred percent, and my doubt that I might be mistaken is zero!” Those are excellent percentages. I have them too, but backwards. Now the fact that you are convinced one hundred percent there is no God (no island) is not going to affect my conviction at all. I just know you haven’t found the island (maybe you looked for it but didn’t find it or you never looked for it) and I understand where you are. Remember, I was once like you.

But if you tell me that my one hundred percent (and the strong claim that I have found the island you think doesn’t exist) doesn’t bother you a little bit, not even like one percent of doubt that you may be mistaken and I might actually have found the island (which–by the way–is not easy to find), then you are the most stubborn atheist I’ve ever met or a person who doesn’t really care about anything.

The End

P.S. Please do not mistake God for the Church. They are two completely different things. I do not belong to a church (Christian or otherwise) and I do not think “salvation” comes through performing certain rituals. The relationship with God is something personal and comes from within your soul, the endless ocean. You just need to start looking for the island, because nobody else can find it for you!

"The Truth" (Part 2)

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here today to continue the story I posted in Part 1. Or did you think “The teenager turned around and walked away, leaving the two old men to their squabble. Up until that day he had never seen the ocean and now that old man said there was an island somewhere out there?” was the end of the story? Then obviously you haven’t read any of my stories.

The teenager kept walking on the shore until late that night. He had fallen in love with the sea and, suddenly, as he was watching the sun setting over the horizon in a spectacle of red, purple and violet, his heart was filled with an inexplicably strong desire to go looking for that island.

In all his life he had never been drawn by any kind of adventure. In the small town he lived many miles inland nothing extraordinary really happened and he was used to extraordinary things never happening. But after he heard the old man’s story, a tiny flame of desire to explore started to burn inside him.

By the time he went back home several days later, that small fire was a raging inferno. He kept imagining what it would be like to actually find that island, or maybe another one just as fascinating. From that day on his purpose in life was to sail the endless ocean until he would find that magical island.

He started learning about sailing, he moved to a small house on the shore of the sea, and began building a boat. A year later, when his small boat was finished, he set off on his first journey.

He packed enough supplies to last for a few weeks, and headed for the unknown. Although he didn’t really know what direction he was supposed to be sailing, he figured that sooner or later he was bound to find something. If he didn’t find it now, maybe he’d find it later. It didn’t actually matter how many attempts it would take to find that island; he had all the time in the world.

The first journey lasted for three weeks and, although he didn’t find what he was looking for, he did find something else: insight and time to meditate. And along with them, incredible inner peace. He realized that he had set his mind on finding that magical island, but instead he’d found something much more amazing.

The weeks of traveling across the endless ocean turned into months, and the months into years. He always returned to his home island, but just because his human nature didn’t allow him to be at sea forever. And he never found that island, or any other islands magical or otherwise. Yet, he kept looking and hoping.

During his otherwise eventless voyages, he sometimes got caught in a storm for days on end, and every time the storm died out his hopes would rise. For some strange reason he always had the impression that the storm the old man had mentioned in his story was the key to finding that island, like some sort of magical passageway between the known sea and the sea where other islands existed. But none of the storms he sailed through led to any islands or magical places.

At some point he started wondering, what if that island doesn’t really exist, and the old man had only made fun of the naive eighteen-year-old boy that he was? He couldn’t see why the old man would have lied to him about the whole thing, but that–he had to admit to himself more and more often–was a possibility.

Yet the story had sounded too detailed and too real to be just a prank. And the old man didn’t ask for anything in return. He didn’t ask him to join the “club of believers in the existence of the magical island,” and start paying monthly dues for being a member. He didn’t ask him to change his beliefs now that he had heard the “good news” about the magical island. All the old man did was tell his amazing story.

“Just because I couldn’t find it doesn’t mean the island is not out there somewhere, does it?” he kept asking himself. “Seriously this cannot be a valid argument! Dear members of the jury, your honor, I know for a fact that the magical island the old man claimed to have been on does not exist in our endless ocean simply because I spent years looking for it and I never found it. And with this irrefutable argument I rest my case.”

*     *     *

Now, in the end, I want to ask you a question. If you were one of the twelve “jurors of the man’s conscience” before whom the man was “arguing his case,” what verdict would you give? You have all the facts he presented to you beginning with the evening he met the two old men on the beach. You do not know whether the old man had actually been on that island or not, because you can only see the picture from the teenager’s perspective.

You, being part of the teenager’s conscience, have been everywhere he has been and have seen and heard everything he has seen and heard. You were with him on all his journeys and ground it out through all the storms.

All you have to do now is answer a simple question: “Just because he couldn’t find it, does that mean the island is not out there somewhere?” The answer you must give is either: (1) “I am one hundred percent certain that island does not exist, because the teenager could not find it,” or (2) “I  am one hundred percent certain that island exists even if nobody else ever finds it again and even if the old man had never found it or claimed to have found it in the first place.”

(to be continued)

“The Truth” (Part 1)

Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here today to set things straight once and for all. I’m going to tell you a story and then I’m gonna ask you a question. You don’t have to answer me, but you may want to answer it for yourselves.

There was an island in the middle of an endless ocean. The people living on the island learned how to build boats and ships and how to sail. Farther and farther away they traveled, but they always returned to the island since it was the only piece of land they knew. There were no other islands in the blue immensity of that ocean.

One day a young sailor ventured farther than he had ever been before and he got caught in a storm. The storm lasted for several days and drove his small boat even farther away from home, and the young man didn’t know where he was anymore.

Suddenly he saw the shape of a small island on the horizon and set his sails toward it. It was the first time he’d ever seen a piece of land other than his home. He went to the island and was amazed by the beauty of it. There were fruit trees he had never seen before. In the middle of the island there was a tall mountain the top of which was disappearing through a round white cloud.

His curiosity got the best of him and he started climbing up the mountain. When he got high enough to be in the cloud, he realized that he was actually on top of the mountain; there was a plateau as flat as the surface of a still lake and in the middle of that plateau there was a hut.

He approached it, knocked on the door and somebody inside said, “Come in.”

He did, and was surprised to find an old man with a white beard dressed in a long, black cloak sitting in a rocking chair reading a great book, or writing in it.

“Come in, come in,” the old man repeated. “Have a seat. You must be exhausted after being in the storm and climbing up the mountain.”

 He, miraculously, didn’t feel tired anymore, but sat down anyway. The air in the hut felt as fresh as the air in a clearing at dawn, and the young man felt at peace; he’d never felt so wonderfully cozy before.

He and the old man started talking and he learned a great number of things from him, about sailing, about the island, about the trees on the island, about the mountain and even about his home. Apparently the old man knew everything about the endless ocean.

After a while the young man started feeling as if he’d been in that hut forever. Time was of no consequence to him anymore.

“It’s time for you to go home now,” the old man said gently, and the young man understood. He had almost forgotten about his family and friends, who were probably worried about him.

He said goodbye to the old man, thanked him for everything he had taught him, and left. Before he left, the old man gave him a fruit to take home. He didn’t feel hungry at all while he was in the hut and, as he was climbing down the mountain, he realized he hadn’t even thought about eating.

He got into his boat, put the fruit in a safe place and set off. He was planning to take the fruit home to show it to his friends and family. As he was sailing away, the island grew smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared. Then he was once again sailing by himself in the infinity of the endless sea.

He knew he was far away from home, and had no idea which way to go, but he trusted the wind would guide his sailboat in the right direction. Many days passed and the only thing he saw was the endless blue. He became hungry, but he didn’t want to eat the fruit; it was the only tangible link between him and the island he had been to. He took it in his hand and looked at it. The fruit looked as fresh as it had been when he received it. If the fruit hadn’t been there, he would have probably doubted ever being on that island. It could as well have been a dream.

More days passed and he started feeling worried about ever getting home. “If I’m gonna die here in the middle of the ocean, I might as well eat this fruit,” he said to himself. It wasn’t just the hunger talking now, but the curiosity as well. By the look of it, that fruit seemed to be the sweetest, juiciest fruit he had ever held in his hand.

Suddenly he realized how silly he had been. “Hey, I’m gonna save the seeds anyway; it’s not like I’ll have nothing to show to my friends. And I’m gonna plant the seeds in my garden and I’m gonna have this type of fruit forever.”

He started eating and he immediately felt refreshed. The fruit had such a wonderful taste that for a second he forgot where he was; he didn’t even realize when he ate it. And when he looked down at his empty hand his heart skipped a beat; the fruit hadn’t had any seeds at all.

*     *     *

The young man never told anybody about his wonderful adventure, for fear of being laughed at or ridiculed. Who would believe him if he started telling people about that magical island? Everybody knew their home land was the only island in the endless ocean. He didn’t even tell his friends and relatives.

But as time passed, the urge to tell someone grew stronger and stronger until one day he felt he couldn’t keep it inside him anymore. He had a good friend, one he had grown up with, and he decided to tell him. He was sure he could convince his friend he wasn’t just making up stuff.

They took a walk on the beach, as they used to do when they were kids, and the young man told his friend everything. To his surprise, his friend looked at him, frowning, and asked:

“Dude, have you been drinking?”

And he realized how ridiculous his story must have sounded to his friend. Yet, the taste of that fruit, the air he had breathed in that hut, the voice of the old man were so fresh in his mind as if everything had happened that day.

“I’m telling you, it happened. I’m not making it up.”

“Are you sure you didn’t dream the whole thing?”

“Well, duh! Are you sure you’re not dreaming now?”

“You know there are no other islands in the ocean. We’ve been sailing it for centuries and nobody ever saw another piece of land.”

“I don’t blame you for not believing me. I think I wouldn’t believe it either if it hadn’t happened to me.”

And from then on he decided not to tell anybody about it again.

*     *     *

Many years passed and the young man and his friend grew old and wise. Sometimes they would walk on the beach and reminisce about the good-old times. The story about the island came up many times but his friend never believed it. He wanted details about that magical island, out of curiosity, but he was still convinced everything had happened in his friend’s mind while sleeping.

One evening they were both on the beach sitting on a rock a little way off from the rippling waves–their favorite place of all–watching the sunset, and talking. A stranger, no more than eighteen years old, approached them; they had never seen him before.

“Nice place to watch the sunset,” the stranger said.

“Yes, it is. We’ve been coming here ever since we can remember,” the man’s friend replied.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

He was not from around there–just visiting relatives who lived by the shore.

“I live inland, and this is the first time I’ve seen the ocean.”

“No!”

“Yeah. Everybody in my small town kept talking about it and I had to take their word for it, but now I’ve seen it for myself.”

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”

“Is it really true that the water is endless out there?”

“That’s what they say. I mean, nobody ever sailed to the end of the ocean and came back to tell the tale,” the man’s friend said pensively.

“And do you really believe there is nothing else out there?” the teenager pressed on.

“I wouldn’t say nothing. There is water, for one.”

“No, I meant other people, other islands. It’s hard to believe that we’re the only ones in this immense ocean.”

“We’re not,” the man replied, looking at his friend to see his reaction.

“Do you believe there is someone else out there?” the teenager asked, surprised.

“No, I don’t. I know it.”

And the man started telling his story about how he had been caught in the storm, and how he had found the island and how he had climbed the mountain, and everything about the hut and the old man and the fruit.

“Also if my friend here had written down this story, he would have been the greatest writer of our generation,” the man’s friend concluded.

“He doesn’t believe me, but that’s okay. I’m not mad at him anymore. And it’s not like I’m trying to sell tickets to that island,” the man smiled toward the boy.

“I mean, come on, everybody knows there are no other islands in this ocean.”

“How can you be so sure? Just because nobody else has found one, is that enough to prove your assumption? Don’t you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

“But don’t you realize how far-fetched your story sounds?”

“Yeah, but I’m saying there is an island out there because I saw it with my own eyes, and I walked on it with my own feet, while you’re saying, no, there can’t possibly be an island out there because you didn’t see it.”

“I will only believe it when I see it.”

The teenager turned around and walked away, leaving the two old men to their squabble. Up until that day he had never seen the ocean and now that old man said there was an island somewhere out there?

(to be continued)