One of the most provocative statements Werner Erhard reportedly made during est was:
"God believed is a lie."
At first glance, it sounds like an attack on religion.
I no longer think it is.
In fact, I suspect it points toward a distinction that many religious traditions have understood for centuries.
The distinction between believing in something and living it.
A person can believe in God.
A person can attend church every Sunday.
A person can quote scripture from memory.
A person can discuss theology for hours.
And yet none of it may have much effect on how they treat their spouse, their children, their neighbours, or the stranger standing in front of them.
What est seemed to attack was not God.
It attacked the distance between concepts and experience.
The distance between the map and the territory.
The distance between saying and doing.
The New Testament contains a remarkably similar idea.
Jesus does not say:
"You will know them by their doctrines."
He does not say:
"You will know them by their church attendance."
He says:
"By their fruits you shall know them."
That is an extraordinarily practical test.
Not intentions.
Not beliefs.
Not declarations.
Fruits.
Results.
Consequences.
What appears in the world.
This may explain why many people find themselves more impressed by an ordinary grandfather than by a professional preacher.
The grandfather may never discuss theology.
Yet he is patient.
Reliable.
Kind.
He treats people with dignity.
Something shines through him.
The preacher may speak beautifully about love, forgiveness, and compassion.
Yet every interaction leaves people feeling manipulated, judged, or diminished.
One talks about the fruit.
The other bears it.
The same principle applies far beyond religion.
A company says it cares about employees.
Look at the turnover rate.
A school says it puts children first.
Look at how children are treated when problems arise.
A government says it serves the public.
Look at what happens when citizens need help.
A social worker says empowerment matters.
Look at whether clients become more capable or more dependent.
Words matter.
But words are cheap.
Behaviour is expensive.
The older I get, the less interested I become in what people say about themselves.
Almost everyone has a story.
Almost everyone has an identity.
Almost everyone has a self-description.
What interests me is what appears when life becomes inconvenient.
That is where reality begins to show itself.
The fascinating thing is that this principle also applies to ourselves.
Most of us carry around a picture of who we think we are.
The generous person.
The brave person.
The spiritual person.
The loving person.
Then life tests us.
A difficult neighbour appears.
A difficult marriage appears.
A difficult child appears.
A difficult colleague appears.
And suddenly we discover that our self-image and our actual behaviour are not always the same thing.
Perhaps this is what est was trying to expose.
Not that God is false.
Not that values are false.
Not that ideals are false.
But that believing we possess them is not the same as embodying them.
"God believed" is merely a concept.
Faith begins when the concept becomes flesh.
At that point there is no need to convince anyone.
The fruit speaks for itself.