Lie that Reveals Truth

When, back 1958, I entered the Christian ministry, my pastor father advised me to read all kinds of books. He said, "Don’t limit your reading to theology and biblical commentaries; read everything." "But," he said, "don’t waste your time on fiction." Fiction, as everyone knows, is by definition, not true. It was years later, studying philosophy under John Newport, that I learned Daddy was wrong. Novels, fictional short stories, drama, painting, and other art forms do present truth to those of us who have eyes and ears, minds and hearts, to re-cognize them.
As Picasso said, "Art is a lie that reveals the truth." A particular painting, story, or ballad may not represent actual events, persons, or empirical facts of any sort. Yet, in the presence of true art, we find that the art-ifice, awakens us to wider, deeper realities we had never before noticed. Art captures our attention, holds it, and demonstrates to us something of the world with which we are involved.
As we watch The Color Purple, listen to Tevya in Fiddler on the Roof, or read John Grisham, some of us find ourselves wiping tears from the corners of our eyes. On one hand, we are fully aware that none of this is real. Yet, perhaps unconsciously, we are moved by the existence of a human sadness of which we had been only vaguely aware, or never even suspected.
It is fiction, thus artificial, thus not true, but in it we have encountered layers of reality we had never before faced.
Consider the possibility that anywhere, anytime, we may find ourselves face to face with experiences, on the face of which, we find nothing out of the ordinary, but that, if we are sensitive and alert, may awaken us to a more intimate appreciation of the mystery of this thing we call life.