born into post-war and post-democracy Poland from an early age Jerzy Popieluszko felt the weight of growing up in the shadow of the iron curtain in a Soviet satellite state
In 1966, at the age of 19 he was forced into military service where he was met with threats, indoctrination bullying, beatings, and temptations
they tried anything they could to break him for in this young man was detected faith in something greater than the government but he could not be shaken
In 1972 he was ordained a priest rather frail in stature and speech they said Father Jerzy was a pastor who had the smell of the sheep
he devoted himself to ministering to holding the torch for the believing to being a support for the grieving and a source for the seeking
but as his faith was deepening the regime was growing more oppressive any opposition to their rhetoric was meticulously muzzled as was freedom of conscience and expression
the economy was strangled schools and factories were shuttered freedom of worship was forsaken in favor of state-flavored atheism and not a word of dissent could be uttered
they said communism was progress and the church was an obstacle to it in 1981 an underground, anti-authoritarian movement was created they called it Solidarity its aim — peaceful civil resistance to the administration
a large contingent of this movement were religious and when they gathered for Mass they needed a chaplain Jerzy was only one to volunteer
he sacrificed his time, his safety, and his health to strengthen his congregation, to give them hope channel their anger, and purify their hatred to encourage them to not give in to fear
soon, 20,000+ would gather to hear his unauthorized words of redemption, love, and spirit his messages were recorded and spread through all of Eastern Europe via clandestine cassette tapes but this of course made him even more of an enemy of the State
a State that was bent on controlling not only the actions but the minds and the character of the people thus, the entire Solidarity movement was declared illegal
the country was put under Martial Law and any suspected to be involved were subject to searches, raids, and lockdowns after sham trials and forged circumstance thousands were forced into internment camps
still, he persisted the humble chaplain continued to champion the cause with conviction despite his escalating exhaustion, fatigue, and sickness
the government called his sermons “seances of hate” they called him “The most dangerous man in Poland” dangerous for declaring the dignity of the individual dangerous for asserting that God was sovereign dangerous for revering mother Mary over mother Russia dangerous for subverting the narrative
so they portrayed him as a terrorist though his message was never one of violence or revenge they called his information misinformation because to their truth, he would not bend
there could be no minister of truth in the Ministry of Truth
and so the crosshairs narrowed
Father Jerzy was constantly harassed in suffocating surveillance he learned that the eye from Moscow never closes they bugged his phone and tossed bombs through his apartment window random speeding cars would target him at crossroads
this persecution pervaded for months until finally, on an icy night in October 1984 as he was being driven toward a morning service his car was forced to pull over
three shadowy figures converged on him with nightsticks and by time they finished their cowardice had crafted from Jerzy an unrecognizable crimson caricature
his blood on their hands with despicable rigor they fettered his feet with stones and dropped him from a bridge into the Vistula river
half a million mourned at his funeral but even more than his martyrdom his refusal to submit galvanized his countrymen his courage fortified them with strength and hope in what they could all do they persisted and though their exemplar was felled a few years later the Berlin wall would fall too
For Poland, the long march to liberation ended when the leader of Solidarity was elected president in the country’s first free election since before the Cold War
today, pilgrimages are still made to the grave in Warsaw where Father Jerzy was laid to rest at its foot an eternal flame burns in remembrance and as a reminder
that you can kill a man that speaks truth but you can’t kill the truth
Pontious Pilate famously inquired while looking truth directly in the eye.
He knew.
But when he heard them say away with him, away crucify him we have no king but Caesar
he washed his hands of the matter and did what pleased them
that trial has never ended every one of us sits on the jury
we are all Pontious Pilate conscious of the quiet but unrelenting testament of the defendant and the deafening resonance of the prosecution contending with the same question “what is truth?”
(I wonder) who is it that would smile when we say that that we are incurable cancers to the planet who would inspire the kind of art that exclaims that this is all there is who would spawn such a take that beauty is bygone and goodness is a disgrace who would be happy to have us embrace the nothingness of nihilism who would slither in with such a worldview who would be objectively jubilant to have us believe that there is no objective truth and that we should modify our morality to fit our behavior instead of vice versa I guess its vice versus virtue
we all know the truth even though sometimes we wish we didn’t sometimes we pretend there is no wrong so that we can condone wrong or convince other people to go wrong so that we’re not alone in the wrong but dawning the darkest of sunglasses does not extinguish the light right is right even if nobody is right and wrong is wrong even if everybody is going along
maybe that’s why they convicted the innocent and banished him to the cross why they lashed and laughed and mocked and chanted for assassination truth can be relative if God is recanted from the equation with no higher being to set the standard for the people anyone can call evil good, and good evil there’s no infraction a rationale can’t be rationed out for no principle they can’t have it out for
the silence is deafening when you mute the immutable Nietzsche noticed this and noted it with caution see, the preachers of the post-modern doctrine are not the first to allege that God is dead but there’s still nowhere to go after the funeral in this post-modern concoction “who will wipe the blood from our garments what water is holy enough to cleanse us what festivals of atonement shall we attend what sacred games shall we invent” pray tell
how do we declare rape reprehensible if it’s just one set of molecules knocking into another set that’s less able to defend itself or slavery disdainful if it’s just an array of atoms arranged in chain-link fashion that happened to trap another or the iniquity of murder if it’s just one clump of cells determining that another clump of cells doesn’t deserve the dignity
who will wipe the blood from our consciouses well, if we consecrate ourselves gods and goddesses then instead of climbing a mountain fo find truth we can just drag the mountain to us and demand that its majestic peaks crumble into dust never mind the civilizations that we might bumble or crush
but jumping out of 40 story buildings because gravity is a social construct doesn’t change the nature of the pavement these shattered anatomies are shouting that something’s amiss
God forgive this audacity God forgive us for thinking that we can never do anything that warrants forgiveness
God forbid this navel-gazing I’m not saying it’s always easy to look up to discover but I can say this we can search for truth or we can search for comfort only one of those two will bring the other
my truth is what makes me feel good THE truth is what makes me do good
my truth will let me be THE truth will let me become
my truth might get me through the day THE truth will get me through this whole life and beyond
my truth will waver, and change THE truth will not be shaken by my inclinations or your opinion it cannot be lobbied, or slackened by sacrilege it will not falter, and will never be altered by activists
my truth will reveal my entitlements THE truth will heal, enliven, and enlighten when darkness swarms when distortion becomes the norm when the obvious becomes too dangerous to speak of we must never underestimate the effects because when truth is the first casualty of an ideology freedom will always be the next
truth, beauty, and goodness are true, beautiful, and good and I shouldn’t have to say so
we are not biohazards this is not all there is truth is not what those regarded as important tell us to believe or groupthink that the mob has compelled us to believe
we do not need to pay the toll that they would take rape and slavery and murder are wrong not because of protons or electrons but because souls are at stake
there’s nothing more important than discerning the difference between what truth isn’t and what it is because when you have no king but Ceasar you have no truth but his
ladies and gentlemen of the jury find courage do not wash your hands of the responsibility standing up for truth is worth it even if you’re persecuted for trying to preserve it
fear not what men may say or do fear not what we were made to be because when you know the truth the truth shall make you free
I came to this university with an open mind and a fire burning in my chest I was on a quest for higher learning now here I am
I’d like to thank my professors for teaching me to be a free thinker, where I’m totally free to think… what you want me to think
I loved my favorite class so much it’s hard to put it in words Destabilizing Hegemonic Cishetero Amatonormativity in Birds changed my life
thank you for teaching me problematizing instead of problem solving all this time I could have been trying to cure cancer instead you taught me to point at someone and say “you’re the cancer”
I asked you to help me unravel the great philosophers you dazzled me with 100 Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion officers I was going to say that their 15 million dollar combined salary didn’t actually help educate anyone but they did keep over 100 chairs from floating away
you taught me to lower my gaze whenever I tried to think for myself you censored me and lowered my grade
thank you for exposing the lie of objective truth I mean, I came to University to participate in the universally respected pursuit of wisdom and the transmission of knowledge
to learn to differentiate between the intellectually fashionable and the perpetually applicable to partake of your sacred manna
I was starving for your esteemed insight and you fed me propaganda
I came to you seeking a guardian of reason and you discarded reason
I came for critical thinking you gave me critical theory
I wanted to build on a shared foundation you told me there’s no such thing thanks to your advice I’ve learned to turn openness from a virtue into a vice
I wanted a liberal education I wanted to see the world I was told this was the place you showed me that the only way to see the world is through the lens of gender, sexuality, and race
E Pluribus Unum lol thank you and your syllabus for disproving such nonsense thank you for teaching me to look at diversity as a device for division, I was naive to think that diversity could be beautiful, that we could learn from each other and build a society together, strengths and weaknesses weaved into a tapestry of unanticipated breadth, depth, and majestyno – your way is better we must deconstruct
we must reject the great books in favor of the great grievances I used to think the American dream was the opportunity for each to achieve according to his or her determination and honed expertise no ma’am – now I know the American dream is a government program
I used to think morality stemmed from natural rights now I know that morality stems from status and likes and trendy ideologies
after four years I can’t tell you anything about molecular biology or chemistry or the importance of nucleic acids or adrenal glands but I can tell you that abortion should be legal, free, and on-demand
I didn’t learn anything about what truth is but I did unlearn what 2+2 is you say I’m smarter for that and I believe you
I believe you that what happened to the universities in Germany in the 1930s certainly isn’t happening here
I didn’t study much history but the one thing I learned about its atrocities was that I could not possibly be guilty of the same foibles that foiled those civilizations the same infirmities that put millions in infirmaries no those are past people – savage I have surpassed people make statues of me that mobs will never find reason to ravage
thank you for bringing me up in front of a class of people for struggle sessions thank you for bringing my friend up – he agreed that it was so virtuous of you to tell everyone that because of his skin color, he’s unlikely to succeed
they say oh, the humanity I say oh, the humanities
thank you for replacing facts with post-factual narratives and for your relentless attacks on America
thank you for never letting anyone with a dissenting sentiment speak on this campus, or any campus I know that what you’ve taught me would stand against whatever they have to say so you’re right it’s best to just keep them away thank you for the safe spaces
thank you for the guest lecturers that you did allow who spoke so graciously about “fantasies of unloading a revolver into the head of any white person that got in their way” that always made my day I never once questioned why that was acceptable but having someone come and speak about, I don’t know, the Constitution, or freedom, or fulfilling one’s potential that was forbidden
they say that you should be ashamed of yourselves for what you’ve done to free speech, free thought, and truth seeking and for shaming anyone that dares break from the mold that every one of your ideas are shaped from they say it’s crazy that people feel less free to speak in your classrooms than they did in the authoritarian states that they escaped from
I say, well… I say whatever you want me to say
I came to this university with an open mind thank you so much for closing it
thank you for what you’ve become for what you’ve done to me to my generation to western civilization for putting thousands of years of human progress on the brink
The last television series I watched was LOST, which aired its season finale way back in 2010. It was a remarkably well-produced sci-fi action drama about plane crash survivors on a mysterious island, most well-known for its cryptic mythology and puzzling paradoxes. The characters were probed by smoke monsters, infiltrated by hostile inhabitants, and swept up in supernatural synchronicities.
The island was rife with ruins, mystic healing powers, and electromagnetic energy that facilitated time travel and spatial disposition. A specific sequence of numbers frequently appeared, implying some sort of consequential code that would unlock understanding and make it all make sense.
However, as the series began to draw to a close, the gap between questions and answers continued to widen. And for all of its mind-bending plot twists and compelling cliffhangers, it became increasingly apparent that in the end, the audience would be ones left hanging.
I wanted resolution. I wanted to know how all these pieces of the puzzle fit together. In short, I wanted it all to mean something.
When it didn’t, it left me feeling empty and deceived.
I’ve since wondered why this broken promise of meaning bothered me so much. TV shows aren’t lawfully required to explain themselves. Holding my attention for six years – 121 episodes, was perhaps proof that they upheld their end of the bargain between entertainment producer and entertained consumer.
But the question of meaning has haunted humans since they’ve been able to formulate thoughts. You can search for the meaning of life on the internet and go down thousands of rabbit holes. Most of the names we know from history, if not conquerors, are philosophers. Countless thinkers have put pen to paper, or parchment, or papyrus, pondering and positing why we’re here and what we should do while we’re here.
It would seem that we are wired for meaning. We light up when we are connected to something meaningful. But when that meaning is taken away, like when a battery is taken out of an electrical circuit, or when we break the connection somehow, our light fades. We become dim and dark and lonely.
LOST did a masterful job wiring us up. They spun a splendid web of connections, but ultimately left us without a battery to power the circuit.
The modern philosophies of man do the same. We are often flat-out told that there is no grand meaning to life. There never was. We’re just temporarily animated stardust, so make up whatever meaning you need to get you through the day. Change it if necessary. There’s no such thing as objective truth or meaning that we can all ascribe to.
Even the tried and true sources of meaning that we’ve esteemed in the past are facing extinction. Young people are admonished: You’re crazy to believe in God. Or to believe in anything. Or commit to anything. Your country is evil. Your past is deplorable. Marriage and children are negligible at best, and a great burden at worst. Cradles and kitchens are prisons. There’s nothing special about humans. In fact, we’re biohazards. We’re cancers to the planet.
It’s no wonder we are dark and lonely. No wonder that anxiety and suicide are rising. It’s no wonder that we’re likely the most depressed generation ever, even though we live in the time of most abundance. We are starving to death, with our stomachs full. Endlessly fed, but never nourished.
We are vintage Ferraris sidled up to electronic charging stations gasping for fuel
Sensing this hunger and lack of connection to meaning, ideologues will come along and offer hacks to short-circuit or bypass the problem. Those regarded as important and influential will extol the choice certainties of political party, popular culture, and identity groups. And they’ll do so using undeniable slogans.
But these are short-circuits and long cons. When current gathers together and travels along an unintended path in a circuit, the result is always explosions and fire. And by the time the forgery is exposed, the engineers are long gone.
So how do we find real, lasting meaning that won’t leave us deceived and charred in the end?
First, we should define what meaning is. For something to be meaningful, it has to have a purpose, and it has to have significance. A hammer’s purpose is to pound nails, but it probably doesn’t have much significance. A family heirloom has significance, but probably not much purpose. But we’re not interested in material items here. How can a person have purpose? How can a person have significance?
We know it’s not enough to simply exist. Even if housed and fed and kept safe, it’s not enough for us. We have to feel like we’re making a difference to someone or to some greater good beyond ourselves.
One way to do that is to work. Having someone else rely on us to get a job done gives us purpose. Having someone else pay us to do something makes us feel valued. We can also see this as contributing to society. Anyone who’s ever been part of settling a new town or building a hospital or starting a non-profit knows that everyone involved has to do their part. They have to work together to make something. There’s purpose in the end result, but everyone has found purpose in the work required to get there. And they’ve most likely learned a great deal along the way.
In times past, we’ve not had much choice but to work. If we didn’t work, we didn’t eat. It was pretty simple. Purpose found us before we could sit complacently enough to contemplate it.
Today, resting in the belly of technology there seems to be an aversion to work. Especially work that requires actual “work”. We see labor as beneath us and leave as much of it as we can to those we feel somehow superior to. But as I see the atrophy of dying towns across the country where work has become unavailable, I can’t help but also see the atrophy of our souls when we unavail ourselves to work.
We can also find purpose in family and friendship. In taking care of other people. In taking on responsibility, which by definition, gives us purpose, because we are responsible for someone else.
But there’s more. Shouldering responsibility also begets love. Everyone yearns to be loved in a real and lasting way, but that can only happen when someone else looks outside of themselves, and takes the formidable but fruitful next step – which is to give up part of themselves. To sacrifice.
Just like we’ve become averse to work, I think we’ve become averse to sacrifice. This generation hasn’t had to fight any major wars. We have our food brought to our doors. Generations before sacrificed for their posterity. Now, we tend more toward sacrificing our posterity for ourselves. Many have been fooled into believing that their life outcomes will be measured by their life incomes, only to find themselves completely broke in the end. Another short-circuit. Another long con.
This concept of sacrifice is crucial. It deserves a deeper look.
Jordan Peterson talks about this in his book “12 Rules for Life”, specifically in the chapter aptly titled “Do what is meaningful, not what is expedient”. He talks about how humans have learned to share with each other. In an ancient context, one tribe shares meat from a successful hunt with another tribe, making a deal that the favor will be returned at a future date, which is mutually beneficial to both tribes. But we’ve also learned that we can obtain something better for ourselves in the future by giving up something of value in the present. We’ve learned how to not eat all of our food at once. Or to not spend all of our money at once. It’s tempting, when you get money, to just buy whatever you can. But it’s better to save what you can, to put it in some kind of account that will earn more money for you in the future. So in a sense we’ve learned how to make a deal with our future selves.
This deal can only happen by sacrificing. By giving up something expedient for something more lasting – more meaningful. For our future selves, or our present family, our friends, our neighbors, or even strangers.
It’s not easy. Admittedly I’m not great at this. By default I’m inwardly focused. But I continue to find that when I step outside of myself, and sacrifice, I feel better. I’m able to help others feel better. I’m more connected. Life has more meaning.
I think of mothers. The sacrifice of bearing children, nurturing them, helping them grow and learn, helping them through all their pain and sorrows, celebrating their victories with them, and then, sacrificing them to the world. But they’ve participated in the most divine endeavor possible as humans – the creation and sustaining of another life. They’ve chosen not to do what is expedient, and instead, by giving up part of themselves they’ve connected their soul to another in the most meaningful way possible.
I think of Mary’s sacrifice. How she had to endure in excruciating silence as her son turned the world’s greatest tragedy into its greatest triumph.
I think of Christ’s own sacrifice. How it would have been far more expedient for him to pass the cup. Far more expedient to succumb to the natural human desire to avoid pain and suffering. A physical, spiritual, and emotional suffering that cut so deep that it pierced eternity. The ultimate sacrifice.
From Abel to Abraham, Peter to Paul, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more prevalent concept in scripture than sacrifice and its inseparable companion – service.
I have to think there’s a reason for this. I don’t think it a coincidence that those that think of themselves the least are the most content, the most fulfilled.
But what if this concept goes even further? What if this life is about sacrificing and sharing with our future life, beyond the grave? What if the deals we make with ourselves are not just of temporal benefit, but spiritual?
After all, if heaven has the best interest rates laying up our treasures there would rate as our best interest
What if these afflictions are momentary and at the end of this chapter of the story we find that these sacrifices have worked for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory?
I wonder if the apostle Paul and the psychologist Peterson would agree that doing what is expedient is being carnally minded and doing what is meaningful is being spiritually minded and that only the latter can bring life and peace
This brings me to the other important part of meaning – significance. If the atheists are correct, even the grandest of man’s purposes will meet their expiration date. We will perish. Our families will perish. Our work and our sacrifices will perish. Our organizations will perish. Our good deeds and great novels will perish. The Earth itself will perish when the Sun gets hungry enough. Why not turn to nihilism if this is all for naught?
History is twisted and incomplete. But one thing we seem to agree on is that as far back as we can see our ancestors, we can see that they’ve had some sense of a Being greater than themselves. One could argue that humans have always made up gods to give significance to their lives. I think it at least as likely that God made humans with an intuition of His significance.
What if the post-modernists are wrong? What if there really is a Grand Narrative, and we’ve known it all along?
If we are in fact offspring of God – if the promise of eternal life spoken of by Jesus of Nazareth is true, then all of our purposes are given eternal life too. What we do actually matters.
Our causes matter. Our humanity matters. Our families matter. What happens in cradles and kitchens turns out to be infinitely more important than what happens in boardrooms and congresses. All of our efforts spent in searching for truth, learning to control our impulses, and becoming attentive to the plight of others is not perishable, but permanent.
Not only that, being children of God gives us an identity. Not one of the earthly identities that we assign ourselves that can often be divisive, exclusionary, and contradictory, but a divine identity that is uniting, inclusive, and complete. An identity that will always encourage us to build rather than destroy. To look upward rather than downward. To do good, rather than just mean well.
Not only does it change how we see ourselves, it changes how we see each other. Our brothers and sisters become vistas to be explored rather than wastelands to be ignored. We’re more implored to see the good in people. To see them how God sees them. And to see each other as equals.
This divine doctrine was revolutionary when it was introduced to a world that had only known stratified humanism. It shattered all previously well-accepted maxims and elevated all souls to the maximum – equally magnificent before God. It rendered caste systems and slavery and sultans as paltry products of vain imaginations. We forget that those were norms, not exceptions. To grasp the significance of this decree is to grasp the significance of our being.
I would argue that the main purpose of Jesus’s ministry was to show us how significant we are. To invite us to see ourselves in the Grand Narrative. To step into it, and live it. Not just to think of it as a possible philosophy that explains our longing of belonging.
When He fed the multitudes with the 2 fish and 5 loaves, he wasn’t just feeding the hungry droves. He was showing that the sustenance he provides is bountiful and limitless. That when we discover this true meaning, it will multiply. He is the life-giving battery in our circuits – if we stay connected to Him the light within us will grow brighter and brighter. We can finally be fulfilled and settled and satisfied.
When he washed the feet of his disciples, he was exemplifying sacrifice and service. Saying, I know it may not look like it, but this is the way to happiness and purpose. Live as I’ve shown you and you will no longer gasp for fuel.
As I mentioned in a previous episode, there’s the simple utility of a piano as the physical sum of its mechanical parts, or as a collection of atoms stuck together in certain ways. But the real purpose of a piano isn’t revealed until a talented pianist comes along and plays it. It comes to life and becomes far more than the sum of its parts.
Whether one believes in God or not, living life as though we are far more than the sum of our parts, and acting as though there’s meaning above and outside of our own personal desires and flaws results in a significantly higher quality of life than could be achieved even if we were 100% efficient at living only for ourselves.
So, what is the meaning of life?
To answer that, we must first listen to the voice that tells that is there IS meaning to this life. The fact that meaning is so important to us, the fact that we keep asking this question should tell us something.
We were created to seek meaning. At the same time, the breadth of our knowledge is humbly incomplete. We can’t know everything, but to this beautifully perplexing position we find ourselves in, awe and wonder are the appropriate responses. We should lean into them.
We should seek purpose. Rather than abandoning the timeworn and tested tenets of faith, family, work, and sacrifice, we need to rekindle them. Our civilization may be modern, but our condition is ancient, and perpetual.
We should seek to grasp our significance, and fathom whatever we can from where we currently stand. Even if the waters we navigate are unsettled, persistently peering out over them is certainly the best way to discover the promised land.
As we surrender the self-centered story and enter the grand narrative of glory, our quest for meaning will finally come into focus. Purpose, significance, and identity will be revealed.
These transcendent revelations will make four-toed statues and time traveling islands seem like child’s play. We will not be shipwrecked, or plane-crashed, but brought home and made complete. Joy will abound.
I need three hands to count how many years I lived in California. I only need one to count how many thunderstorms I experienced while I was there.
The other night I was out for a walk on an empty Texas road. In every direction there were dark skies and frantic streaks of lightning. Thunder grumbled ominously off in the distance.
But where I was walking, it was calm. I could see stars above me. There was no commotion, no wind, no rain.
If we named the storms of 2020 like they do hurricanes, we’d have exhausted the alphabet many times over. I don’t need to list them. They’re stamped into our skin like a reckless night at a tattoo parlor.
Sometimes, the smoke from the fires is so thick that it’s as if the sun slept through its morning alarm and just said “forget it”. And we go whole days
with no light.
But on that quiet road I remembered.
About two thousand years ago there was a whole night
with no darkness.
That stuck with me, because I’ve been searching for light
in what seems to be only darkness.
I’ve been searching for truce
in what feels like a war of the worlds.
I’ve been searching for truth
in a raucous cacophony of ideologies, so many to choose from.
I’ve been searching for a way, like an x-ray
to see through the confusion.
But on that quiet road I remembered.
What better way to find the truth
than through God’s spoken word?
What better way to find light
than by He who created it?
I can’t always find the why of the storms
but I’m thankful
that I can always find the eye.
The calm. The comfort.
The correctness.
Even with the all hardship, harshness,
and thunder in all directions
if we follow Him
we will not walk in darkness.
He didn’t say when, or even if
these tempests would cease
but that He would walk with us
and in Him, we could still find peace.