Sometime back somebody asked me, "Is it better to know what you believe, or to believe what you know?" I answered, on the spur of the moment, "Yes!" And then...a little less blithely, but no less truthfully, the old saw, "It's not what you know; it's who you know." And...the corollary: "It's not what you believe; it's who you believe."

Of course it matters what you believe, and what you know, and what you believe you know, and what you know you believe...the two are not so much in conflict, as they are convergent, congruous. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes...even harder to admit the difference. But, the who is always, and in both instances, a reality. What I know...and what I believe...is eminently affected by who I've known, and who I believe (and who I don't). The family I grew up in, the teachers who schooled me, the professors who widened my horizons or warped my mind, the preachers and pastors, the best buddies, the girl friends I was trying to impress, the imbeciles whose absurdities bounced off my outer defensive shields...all affected what I have come to believe and/or profess to know.

I believe there is one core Truth. Some are a lot closer to it that I am; many see it more distinctly than I do.  Our various life histories and artificial lenses cast it in different colors and shapes, but if it's the Truth we're seeing, however imperfectly, I believe it is one Truth. To quote a "who" in my history, "The Truth is between us." We may be looking at it, or looking for it, from opposite sides, or at different angles, but I believe, ultimately, there is one Truth. I find it, when I am most lucid, in a Person, Jesus Christ. One who is the Truth about God and about Man...and all that is in them, and between them, and amongst them. That's what I believe..and believe that I know.

I arrived at this point because of people I know, and people I have believed. Some I have known intimately, seeing their integrity, sensing their love and warmth, catching their spirit...enlightened by their words.  Others I know only by reputation...but I have been as much affected by their lives and teaching. Some from ancient days, whose words are inscribed in the premier Book, the Bible (from where I stand)...arguably the words of God, tinctured by the transcriptionists' personalities. There are voices I have been privileged to hear: John Claypool, David Mains, Major Ian Thomas, Reuben Welch, Morris Wiegelt, Larry Fine. Wise counsel from Hazel Robbins, Webb Lidzy, Duane Snavely, and my friend A.D. Bracken.  The printed words of John and Charles Wesley, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, E. Stanley Jones, Leon Morris, Mildred Wynkoop, Clark Pinnock. Fiction by Susan Howatch, Robert Heinlein, and...for an interval...Anne Rice.  From the darker side, the polemics of Christopher Hitchens and others...contrast always makes for a sharper image.

The dynamic and degrees of knowing and/or believing are dependent, in part, on the facility of my mind. Which can be scary, considering that on any given day I might be not in my right mind, or even out of my mind. So I am cautioned to exercise my mind, and to consider my thoughts. To the extent that I seek the Truth, for its own sake first, and weigh the who and what I believe I know, I will find the Truth. But I cannot rely solely on my own mind. In the quest for Truth which is beyond us...and the greater portion is always beyond us...I have been tutored to invoke and consider the extraordinary ministrations of the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Spirit, as "foolish" as that seems. The penultimate Who, winnowing all the words and wisdom of the men and women to which I have been exposed, testing the tentative conclusions of my own mind, confirming in some mystical integration of mind and spirit, human and divine, what is the Truth.  Who is the Truth.  Anyway, that's Who I believe, and what I believe I know.

[For more authoritative discussion of this "foolishness", see I Corinthians, Chapters 1-3.]

I can't say that I am any more foolish on April 1 than on any other day of the year, in any prior year of my life.  I am still prone to the incautious comment, venting of frustration, error of calculation, hasty or heartless judgments.  I'd like to think those do not occur nearly so often, or not so grievously...but it could be I'm fooling myself.  It does seem that the offenses, perceived or real, of the distant past are more vivid than ever.  Those tend to resurrect at odd and unpredictable moments, searing through my brain and kicking me in the stomach.  And they tend to cluster, to tag team, in roller derby fashion...hitting me with a succession of punches that take my breath away. And then I think, after all this time, the parties involved have long since forgotten, or at least forgiven...the foolishness, and the fool. But I haven't. I suppose that's foolish.