Telling (More) Secrets

I am a firm believer in the oft quoted phrase, “All truth is God’s Truth.” All of Creation reflects aspects of God, although sometimes one must look harder to find them. No where is this more true than in our own hearts, where our secrets lie. As Buechner says, “I not only have my secrets, I am my secrets. And you are your secrets. Our secrets are human secrets and our trusting each other enough to share them with each other has much to do with the secret of what it is to be human.” (39)

What happens to our hearts when these secrets remain hidden? We harden. We fester. We regress. Sharing our secrets is a risk for sure, but not taking that risk is where the real danger lies.

Telling Secrets by Frederick Buechner is one of those books that change one’s soul. It certainly touched mine. It’s a candid expression of humanity and spirituality that reaches deep into the human experience.

Buechner’s prose is insightful and colorful, drawing from raw, personal experience. Normally, wordiness bugs me, but his long sentences were compelling from conception to conclusion. His words evoke laughter in one part and heartbreak in another. It is an emotional journey into the heart of a man rocked by the storms of life.

I loved so many parts of this book, but one of my favorites took me back to the Emerald Isle where I wrestled with so many of my own secrets. Buechner told the tale of a sixth century Irish saint named Brendan the Navigator. He spent much of his life sailing the seas in search of paradise. Some say he made it as far as Florida. When it came to the end of his life, he wondered if he’s wasted his life on a wild-goose chase. Perhaps he should have stayed home and followed the tried-and-true path of monastic service. Buechner includes this scene from Brendan where the saint concludes an interview with Welsh historian-monk Gildas. Brendan’s friend Finn narrates the scene. As Gildas rises to leave the interview:

For the first time we saw he wanted one leg. It was gone from knee joint down. He was hopping sideways to reach for his stick in the corner when he lost his balance. He would have fallen in a heap if Brendan hadn’t leapt forward and caught him.

“I’m crippled as the dark world,” Gildas said.

“If it comes to that, which one of us isn’t, my dear?” Brendan said.

Gildas with but one leg. Brendan sure he’d misspent his whole life entirely. Me that had left my wife to follow him and buried our only boy. The truth of what Brendan had said stopped all our mouths. We was cripples all of us. For a moment or two there was no sound but the bees.

“To lend each other a hand when we’re falling,” Brendan said. “Perhaps that’s the only work that matters in the end.”

The power of that last statement brings tears to my eyes even now. We are all crippled in some way, but some of us know the Way to restoration. We must be willing to give of ourselves, to tell our stories, to give an account for the hope we have in the midst of the pain we endure.

Read Telling Secrets. Your soul will thank you.