The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceedingly fine.
Sextus Empiricus
Since first reading the above line long ago in a novel—Sextus Empiricus, a Greek philosopher of the 3rd century A.D., is the original author—I have pondered its meaning. In some cases, I have witnessed this sentiment work its way through the lives and actions of others.
Various commentators interpret these words in different ways. One online site reports that Empiricus meant that justice may be slow, but it will come eventually. Another analyzes it as “It may take a long time, but evil will always be punished.” Another puts that the meaning as “the dark sides never have good endings.” Still another commentator writes “I think it means that all things come to those who wait.” (Surely this last writer means that “all good things” come to those who wait, otherwise his proposition is ridiculous).
All these interpretations strike me as off the mark.
Sextus Empiricus
Since first reading the above line long ago in a novel—Sextus Empiricus, a Greek philosopher of the 3rd century A.D., is the original author—I have pondered its meaning. In some cases, I have witnessed this sentiment work its way through the lives and actions of others.
Various commentators interpret these words in different ways. One online site reports that Empiricus meant that justice may be slow, but it will come eventually. Another analyzes it as “It may take a long time, but evil will always be punished.” Another puts that the meaning as “the dark sides never have good endings.” Still another commentator writes “I think it means that all things come to those who wait.” (Surely this last writer means that “all good things” come to those who wait, otherwise his proposition is ridiculous).
All these interpretations strike me as off the mark.
With Empiricus dead these 1800 years, and not caring, really, so much what he meant, which is impossible to know for certain, as to what his words imply, I think a different interpretation is in order, particularly for those who believe in a God, an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent deity.
The omniscience of such a god would allow insight into the hearts and minds of all his creatures. His omnipotence—I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this article; please feel free to substitute whatever gender you wish—would be evident in the grinding of the wheels of the mill. His omnipresence would manifest itself in conjunction with his omniscience.
Given these conditions, the words for me mean “The truth will out.”
Not opinions. Not impressions. Not part of the truth.
The Truth.
Truth is a tough proposition for most of us. In the movie A Few Good Men, Colonel Jessup shouts at his prosecutor “You can’t handle the truth,” a line that resonates with viewers in part because most of us believe we know others who can’t handle the truth. If we could be brutal and candid about ourselves, we might understand that we also can’t handle the truth. We shape and bend the truth as we see fit, like some malleable metal, but to get to the rare and unadulterated truth of a matter is to forge iron into steel.
The whole truth of any situation involving human beings requires information, understanding, wisdom, and the willingness to take responsibility when that truth, unvarnished and pure, affects our own lives.
Let’s look at a few examples, public and private.
For months, the media have focused on a possible Russian manipulation of the election of Donald Trump to the presidency. Yet where is the evidence? And how, exactly, does Russia manipulate an election? Russia has no access to the polls. Russia could back the release of documents via outfits like WIkiLeaks, but if it did so, again where is the evidence?
This is not truth.
Another example: A woman demands her husband leave their house and then seeks a divorce. Friends split into two opposing camps. Her church shows her the door. Certain acquaintances shun or scorn her, or even admonish her to her face. Yet again, they lack the whole truth. They attack the woman without knowing why she did what she did.
This is not truth.
A man with an excellent education, a string of degrees, and a normally lucrative profession claims he can no longer pay his credit card debts or his taxes. His friends listen to him, many sympathize with his troubles, and some close to him even lend or give him money to help him along. Yet these benefactors fail to ask an important question: Why doesn’t the man try to make more money, cut his spending, and dig himself out of debt?
The man’s friends fail to seek the whole truth regarding his situation. Quite likely, the man has no answer for them.
He can’t handle the truth. He can’t handle his own weakness.
Christ once said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” He claimed to be the truth. If there is such a god, and if he is omniscient, then his mills should indeed grind exceedingly fine. He knows the real truth of any situation. He knows the truth of every heart and mind. He knows what we have all done, said, thought, and felt. He knows the truths hidden deep beneath the surface, however great the depths, however murky the waters.
Unlike us, He will judge with mercy and understanding because he possesses the Truth, not the “truths” by which we humans make our judgments.
If at death we are shown what we have done and what we have failed to do, I suspect some of us will be in for a surprise.
The omniscience of such a god would allow insight into the hearts and minds of all his creatures. His omnipotence—I will use the masculine pronoun throughout this article; please feel free to substitute whatever gender you wish—would be evident in the grinding of the wheels of the mill. His omnipresence would manifest itself in conjunction with his omniscience.
Given these conditions, the words for me mean “The truth will out.”
Not opinions. Not impressions. Not part of the truth.
The Truth.
Truth is a tough proposition for most of us. In the movie A Few Good Men, Colonel Jessup shouts at his prosecutor “You can’t handle the truth,” a line that resonates with viewers in part because most of us believe we know others who can’t handle the truth. If we could be brutal and candid about ourselves, we might understand that we also can’t handle the truth. We shape and bend the truth as we see fit, like some malleable metal, but to get to the rare and unadulterated truth of a matter is to forge iron into steel.
The whole truth of any situation involving human beings requires information, understanding, wisdom, and the willingness to take responsibility when that truth, unvarnished and pure, affects our own lives.
Let’s look at a few examples, public and private.
For months, the media have focused on a possible Russian manipulation of the election of Donald Trump to the presidency. Yet where is the evidence? And how, exactly, does Russia manipulate an election? Russia has no access to the polls. Russia could back the release of documents via outfits like WIkiLeaks, but if it did so, again where is the evidence?
This is not truth.
Another example: A woman demands her husband leave their house and then seeks a divorce. Friends split into two opposing camps. Her church shows her the door. Certain acquaintances shun or scorn her, or even admonish her to her face. Yet again, they lack the whole truth. They attack the woman without knowing why she did what she did.
This is not truth.
A man with an excellent education, a string of degrees, and a normally lucrative profession claims he can no longer pay his credit card debts or his taxes. His friends listen to him, many sympathize with his troubles, and some close to him even lend or give him money to help him along. Yet these benefactors fail to ask an important question: Why doesn’t the man try to make more money, cut his spending, and dig himself out of debt?
The man’s friends fail to seek the whole truth regarding his situation. Quite likely, the man has no answer for them.
He can’t handle the truth. He can’t handle his own weakness.
Christ once said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” He claimed to be the truth. If there is such a god, and if he is omniscient, then his mills should indeed grind exceedingly fine. He knows the real truth of any situation. He knows the truth of every heart and mind. He knows what we have all done, said, thought, and felt. He knows the truths hidden deep beneath the surface, however great the depths, however murky the waters.
Unlike us, He will judge with mercy and understanding because he possesses the Truth, not the “truths” by which we humans make our judgments.
If at death we are shown what we have done and what we have failed to do, I suspect some of us will be in for a surprise.