Narrative. It’s the story line we use to put facts into context and to make the “who, what, where and when” of an event come together into a sensible “why.” It is the melody upon which the lyrics of our lives travel, and it offers an infinite pallet of mood, inflection, tempo and phrasing. It can be both a blessing and a curse, a weapon and a salve.
Facts are understood within the narrative in which they are packaged, and framing a narrative in which 2 + 2 appears to equal a sum other than 4 is both an art and craft worthy of celebrity. It is the bread and butter of lawyers, liars, teachers, preachers and plain old everyday ordinary citizens like you and me. It’s what we all do routinely as we carefully construct stories to communicate facts in ways that cast us in the most favorable light.
Some people have suggested that facts depend upon narrative for their being. Their argument goes that facts become facts only when given life by the emotions, biases, perspectives and personality of the one from whom the narrative flows, the storyteller and songwriter.
Others hold fast that facts live independently and have no particular need of narrative at all. It is, they say, from raw data—pristine facts wholly divorced from all context—that inquiry proceeds. From the union of fact and analysis narrative is born, often created in the image of the researcher.
Who’s right? It’s an interesting question, but one without a terribly important answer. Facts are facts, and narrative is narrative. Neither alone nor in combination do they represent, unless by sheer chance, the Truth.
Truth is the stated object of philosophical inquiry. Sadly, the object is not realized, and it isn’t difficult to understand why. Philosophy fails in its methodologies, its insistence that it isn’t what it is—a mere exercise in systematizing and canonizing the follies of both the “pure narrative” and “pure fact” camps. Insofar as I am able to determine, philosophy succeeds in advancing little worthwhile, and to the extent that it exercises or challenges the mind it adds up to little more than a sophisticated collection of mental parlor tricks.
So, where does this leave us? Is it simply impossible to get at the Truth, to discern the golden Truth among the mounds of fool’s gold piled everywhere about? Happily, it is not impossible. Amazingly, it is rather easy. It all begins with a simple realization. It begins and ends with Revelation.
Revelation. It is God’s way of disclosing himself to man, and it is God’s way that defines and embodies all Truth.
No narrative we might construct is adequate to communicate Truth. Truth is dependent upon no particular set of facts, yet it is at every instance factual within itself. It is magical, mystical, intriguing, wonderful and… above all else, it is the Truth.
The Revealed Truth. There is no other kind.
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
At last! Someone who uenrdsatnds! Thanks for posting!