I was in my early twenties and studying theology (Applied Ministry). We spoke of “love” and so much more in class, but I saw so much violence in the world and few attempts by those of my religion to work in ways to lessen the suffering in the world. I decided to go to the Dean of my college and discuss my concerns with him.
I approached his office and his secretary, who knew me, motioned me towards his office. I walked in to find him sitting at his desk, as usual. He had a huge smile on his face, which he seemed to always have. I asked if I could discuss something and after he nodded, I began to share my observations and concerns.
I sensed him shifting a bit in his large leather chair. He seemed somehow uncomfortable, but I continued. After a few minutes, I felt I had shared my concerns and then turned to him for a response.
His smile seemed even larger, yet somehow less sincere. He attempted to make soothing remarks, which meant nothing. I looked around his office as he spoke. I saw the walls of books on theology, I saw his curios from his travels, I saw some family photos. Nothing he said seemed to ring of sincerity or to attempt to answer my concerns.
As I watched him, I realised that he was trying to soothe himself, not me. He was verbalising the thoughts that ran through his head normally, as he tried to justify his comfortable existence in a world of suffering.
I thanked him for his time and never again spoke honestly with him.
People hid behind comforting lies and - I am convinced - the more comfortable their lives, the more they have learned to believe these lies. He wanted to imagine a world that made him comfortable and, within those walls of his office, he could do so. My questions were bringing the outside world inside and he didn’t like it.
What lies do you tell yourself? Do you imagine that other beings want to die to become your meals? Do you imagine that cows freely give us their breast milk which they have made for their children? Do you imagine that chickens - which would have about 13 periods a year - gladly produce 300+ eggs per year?
I remember that fellow sitting in his office, trying to find comfort for himself, not knowing that in a dozen years he would die of cancer. I remember his painted on smile as I walked away that day.
Are you going to tell comforting lies, or open your eyes to the suffering in the world for which you are responsible?
May all beings know peace!
Aroha nui,
Gerald Tūruapō Jordan, MBA, MEd, MCouns