A few years ago there were some major conflicts in our regional church council, the presbytery. I found myself in the thick of it, sometimes being asked to publicly defend one of the sides. I am willing to speak my mind but I shy away from taking sides. It seemed to me that too many people were spending too much time and energy, and way too many words, trying to prove they were right. I even caught myself doing much of this, mostly within my own head. In response, I decided to do my best to opt out of discussions whenever someone— including me—was trying to prove he was right. Instead, I would try to write honestly about what I was experiencing, what I was thinking or feeling or doing. I codified this process in my email address: write(dot)not(dot)right.
It seems that humans have a great need to feel that they are right and that they are on the right side. Long ago I decided that I would rather do good than be right. Still this need keeps slithering back in and I have to remind myself, “Write. You know that you want to do good, not be right.” In my waffling I have often fallen back on a “principle of church order”, found in the Presbyterian Book of Order:
Truth is in order to goodness; and the great touchstone of truth, its tendency to promote holiness, according to our Savior’s rule, “By their fruits ye shall know them.” … we are persuaded that there is an inseparable connection between faith and practice, truth and duty. Otherwise, it would be of no consequence either to discover truth or to embrace it.
There is a purpose to knowing the truth aside from knowing the truth, and feeling that you are right because you possess the truth. We know the truth in order to do the truth, and eventually in order to become the truth. “Truth is in order to goodness,” not rightness. There is “an inseparable connection between faith and practice, truth and duty.”
I regularly am guided by these words. But for me this principle could be expanded so that the connection between faith and practice moves in both directions: faith informs practice; and practice informs faith. What I would like to do with this blog is to complete the circle. We can’t really know the truth until we begin practicing it, testing it out, if you will.
We don’t complete the circle, if we say, “I will know the truth so that I can practice it and be good,” without also saying, “I will practice the truth so that I can know the truth.” When we don’t complete the circle it is way too easy to just keep trying to know the truth better and leave the practicing for another day. Then all our reading and studying and thinking and explaining and defending will be in vain.
In short, practice is the process, as well as the purpose, of knowing the truth.
