It was early December, 1783, before British and Hessian troops turned New York City over to George Washington, and what remained of the Continental Army.  Most of that army had been discharged to go home.  The foreign forces that had occupied the city since early in the war had seen little if any action.  Washington had early on decided not to try to pry the British army loose from the city.  When those Redcoats and Hessians marched down Broadway to the harbor they made a splendid display. Every officer, every infantryman, every horse was exhibiting parade finery.  The Army that marched in behind them did not (could not) make a similar display. They were clothed, and shod, and crisp in their step as they marched in, four abreast. But their clothes and their faces were worn and bare.  One young woman standing along Broadway that day wrote “The British troops leaving us were equipped as if for show, and with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms made a brilliant display.  The troops that marched in were ill-clad and weather-beaten, and made a forlorn appearance.”  General Washington had a different perspective.  He remembered the shoeless winters of Kip’s Bay, and Valley Forge, and on that December day he commented that the Americans looked “spruce.”*

            Spruce or forlorn, the General and the young lady shared a common perspective as they watched their troops take control of New York that day.  They both looked on those soldiers with pride.  That same young lady continued her comments thus: “[They] made a forlorn display; but then they were our troops, and as I looked at them, and thought of all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were full, and I admired and gloried in them the more, because they were weather-beaten and forlorn.”

            Two ways to proceed with this essay would be to discuss how two people can look at the same thing and see something so different. Another would be to observe how two people can see something so different and share the same perception of that thing.  Both, however, are predicated upon the fact that what we see is subjective more than objective. Our eyes take the colors absorbed by the objects in our field of vision and send that information to the brain. The brain takes that information about shapes and colors and assigns labels to what we see – a horse, a uniform, a rifle, a saber.  Then, based upon subjective things – our experience, our station, our disposition -  the brain, in an instant adds on adjectives and values – weather-beaten, forlorn, proud, thankful.

            When Jesus tried to get the Jews to have some perspective on John the Baptist’s ministry (and His own), he asked them: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What did you go out to see? A man dressed in soft clothing? Those who wear soft clothing are in king’s palaces,” (Matthew 11.7-8). Jesus’ question lays bare our perceptions like a laser-scalpel.  We see what we intend to see.  We look at the same, overcast sky and you call it slate grey, while I call it cobalt blue.  Your call it gloomy, while I call it comforting (I like overcast days). But it is the same sky. Regardless of their version of things, Jesus tells them that John the Baptist is a prophet, and that His own kingdom will be greater than anything John the Baptist could experience. There is truth. The truth is Jesus (John 14.6).

            The thing I love about the account above is that whether the troops were described as “spruce,” or “forlorn” the General and the young lady shared the same pride, thankfulness, and full-hearted patriotism upon seeing them march down Broadway. Later, at Fraunces Tavern, Washington would take leave of them with these brief, tear-choked words: “With a heart filled with love and gratitude I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your later days may be as happy and prosperous as your former ones have been glorious and honorable.”**

            The truth is. Our great task is to be better at seeing it, not to be better at arguing our own version of it. Our experiences, as various as they are need not hinder us from arriving at correct conclusions. The best way to see the truth more clearly is to see Jesus more clearly.

            If you remain in my word you are truly my disciples; and you shall know the truth, and the truth will make you free. John 8.31-32