I haven’t been able to put my finger solidly down on the reason why I haven’t enjoyed the artwork of Thomas Kinkade, the self-described “painter of light.” Until now.
If you like his work, please accept my apology. It could just be a matter of personal taste, but my dislike centers on something that maybe he has created very unintentionally. Yet, on inspection of his many works, I find something very untrue about it. Something saccharine. Something short of Truth. Do you?
This brings me to a great commentary on truth. As NT Wright says, “Truth happens”. It is not a matter of whether I speak correctly of something factual. “The table is made of wood,” for instance. In the case of corresponding evidence, for an authentic reality, we may speak what is true. But most of life doesn’t flesh out that way. Really, none of the biggest questions do.
So, perhaps, Truth is a verb.