I think you’re either in a position where you’re researching and truth-seeking; or you believe you’ve found truth and you’re assenting. You seem to want to be in both states at the same time, and I don’t think that’s valid or feasible. Once you have reverted to the “seeking” stage, you have withdrawn assent and are therefore in a state of dissent. Which means basically, you’ve lost faith.Yes, I want to be in both states at the same time, but even if I didn’t want to be so, I couldn’t be otherwise and remain oriented towards truth. If truth is what I hope it is, then it’s something bigger than I am, grander than my cognition of it, something that overflows whatever conceptions I construct or receive to contain it, something that stretches immeasurably beyond the horizons of my world. Even if I can touch it, I cannot possess it or encapsulate it. Truth as I experience it is on the move, always ahead of me, always elusive of my attempts to pin it down. Yet while I cannot possess it, I can nevertheless perceive it, if imperfectly and from a distance; and because I can perceive it, I can assent to it. Assent, in my book, doesn’t mean standing still, holding truth in my hands: it means acknowledging the reality of that which I pursue.
My relation to truth, at least as I desire it to be, isn’t a halfway extension of the arm or a halfhearted one-leg-in semi-commitment. I’m on the run with a purpose, eyes fixated, ears attuned, moving towards what I hope to be reality, but always suspicious that my eyes and ears may be deceived. I strive to live in accordance with how I understand reality, but then I am also conscious that my understanding may not be what I think it is. There’s a tension here, obviously, but it’s a healthy tension. It’s a tension that concerns matters of life and death, temporality and eternity; but, personally, and probably due to my personality, it’s a tension I rather enjoy. Like a good story. Which, after all, it is. (VN)