🎙️ Episode 4 — Veritas liberabit vos – The Truth Will Set You Free

Intro
Hey guys, I’m glad you’re here. This is The Way of the Fool, and today I’m going to talk to you about truth.
What is truth?
Why does it matter?
Behind every moment of clarity, every scientific breakthrough, and every genuine revelation, there’s something deeper pulling us forward — a living, breathing thread that ties us back to the divine.

Section 1 — What is Truth?
John 8:32, in Latin Vulgate, reads: “Veritas liberabit vos.” — The truth will set you free.
But how? Why? And most importantly these days… what is truth?

Let’s start at the beginning. “Truth” is a word — a linguistic unit we use to point to meaning.
If we want to understand that meaning deeply, the dictionary may not be the best place to start.
Sure, it gives us the current definitions — but language evolves. And with this evolution, meanings shift.
That’s why I always go to the etymology of a word first.

Etymology doesn’t necessarily tell us how a word is used today — it tells us its roots. Its intended meaning. Why that word exists in the first place.

Now, I’m aware of the concept of the etymological fallacy — the idea that a word’s original meaning doesn’t dictate how it should be used today.
And that’s fair. Meanings evolve.
But original meanings shouldn’t be forgotten either — because sometimes, they point us back to something we’ve lost sight of.

In this case, we’re actually dealing with three different words, all pointing to the same idea, but with different roots.
There’s truth in English, veritas in Latin, and the original Greek word used in the Gospel of John: alētheia (ah-LEH-teh-ah).

Of the three, veritas may be the closest to our current understanding.
It comes from verus, meaning “true,” which in turn comes from the Proto-Indo-European root wērə-o-, meaning “trustworthy.”
Truth, in English, comes from a different root — the Proto-Indo-European deru-, meaning “firmness,” “steadfast,” or “loyalty.”
But alētheia — the original word used in the Gospel of John — adds something deeper.
It literally means “unconcealedness” — truth as that which is revealed, that which is no longer hidden.

In essence, truth is what is real. What is trustworthy.
And in classical philosophy, truth is more than just a concept — it’s one of the four transcendentals, the properties of being, along with unity, goodness, and beauty.

Section 2 — The Boundaries of Perception and Knowledge
However, knowing the truth — or even understanding what is real — is not as simple as it seems.

First of all, our perception is limited by our senses, which only allow us to detect a fraction of the world. And even that small fraction is further distorted by our egos — our sense of self.

For example: the visible light spectrum — what our eyes can actually detect — spans from about 380 to 750 nanometers.
That’s just 0.0035% of the full electromagnetic spectrum.
If something is too small, we won’t be able to see it even if it’s right in front of us.
If something is too big — like planet Earth — we won’t be able to see it in its entirety.

The same happens with sound. Our hearing range goes from 20 to 20,000 hertz — a minuscule fraction of the sounds occurring in nature.
We’re completely deaf to the rest.
Touch, smell, taste? Same story. We perceive enough to survive, but that’s not the full picture.

And on top of all that, there’s the ego — a fundamental part of our identity, but one shaped by instinct, emotional imprinting, past experiences, pride, etc.
Whether shaped by pain or comfort, it filters reality through what it already knows.
Our egos constantly mediate between what actually is and what we are comfortable accepting.

Then add our cognitive limitations to the mix. We simply cannot know everything.
And often, the missing pieces are the ones that would collapse our entire belief systems.
Knowledge is virtually limitless. Our cognition is not.
As science has shown us again and again: the deeper we dig, the more questions arise.

Section 3 — Philosophical Reflections on the Truth
Hermetic philosophy teaches that “all truths are half-truths.” This line, emphasized in The Kybalion, reminds us that every concept is only a piece of a much greater whole: partial, contextual, and incomplete.

In another Hermetic text, the Corpus Hermeticum, Hermes Trismegistus learns from the divine mind — Pymander — that human beings only perceive shadows or reflections of the actual truth.

Plato said something very similar. In the famous Allegory of the Cave, he describes how most of us live like prisoners, mistaking shadows on the wall for reality itself. And like Socrates before him, he insisted that the path to wisdom begins with acknowledging our own ignorance.

According to Miguel Ruiz, author of The Four Agreements, the Toltecs believed that the world we perceive is not the world as it truly is, but a reflection distorted by what he calls the “smoky mirror” — the fog of beliefs, emotions, and assumptions that clouds our perception.

Immanuel Kant put it in slightly different terms. In his Critique of Pure Reason, he made a sharp distinction between phenomena — the world as we experience it — and noumena — the world as it exists in itself, independent of our perception.
According to Kant, we can never know the noumenal world directly. Our senses and cognition shape everything we experience.

In other words: truth is always one step beyond what we can fully grasp.

Section 4 — The Postmodern Trap
But if truth is always just beyond our reach, does that mean we should give up?
Should we just accept the postmodern claim that there is no truth — that everything is just a social construct?

Absolutely not.

There is the unattainable absolute truth — yes.
There are relative truths — yes.
But there are also plain lies.

Power may influence which narrative dominates, but it doesn’t make it true.

Foucault’s argument — that truth is created and maintained by power structures — may be valid when it comes to dogma, propaganda, and institutional narratives.
But acknowledging that doesn’t mean we should throw out the idea of actual truth entirely.

Reducing truth to nothing but a power game isn’t just cynical and lazy — it’s dangerous.
Truth exists.

Even if we can’t grasp the whole of it, even if all we ever see are fragments — truth is real.
And some things are just plain lies.

Most postmodernists claim that all statements are true from a particular point of view — and therefore all are valid.
But if your “truth” can’t stand up to questioning, if it falls apart under scrutiny, or if it ignores overwhelming evidence,
Then you’re not holding onto any truth — you’re just clinging to a story.

Truth is an ever-expanding frontier — yes.
But that doesn’t mean, as many people often say, that everyone has their own truth.
And it certainly doesn’t mean that truth is decided by power structures.

Dogmas are decided by power structures.
Power structures push narratives.
But truth exists beyond that.

Postmodernism often hides behind the idea that truth is relative — not as a philosophical stance, but as an excuse to tell blatant lies.

When there’s enough evidence to make your claims questionable — or even flat-out false — and you choose to stick with them anyway…
then you’re not just wrong.
You’re lying.
Maybe to yourself.
Maybe to the world.
Or maybe both.

Stop muddying the waters.
We all ignore things — we all miss things.
No one is expected — or even capable — of knowing everything.
But no one should willingly remain in ignorance.

Section 5 — Intellectual Honesty and the Pursuit of Truth
Nothing we think of can be absolutely true. And that’s okay.

It’s normal to be missing pieces of the larger picture — because we always are.
But when you're confronted with evidence that proves you wrong and you choose to ignore it, you're no longer just mistaken. You're participating in a lie.

You must stay aware of your limitations and remain open to being wrong.

Even experts make mistakes. Of course, the odds that an expert knows the truth — at least a more refined version of it — are higher than for the rest. But no one is infallible.
That’s why no statement, belief, or doctrine should be above scrutiny.

Test your ideas constantly. Assume you're missing parts of the puzzle — because you are.

We should always strive for deeper knowledge, while keeping in mind that there's always more to learn.

The quest for truth should permeate every aspect of human life — especially Religion.
Because the search for God is, necessarily, a search for truth.

Our aim, then, should be to reach for the highest truth available to us — not absolute, but relative truth refined through honest effort.

That means putting our ideas to the test: challenging them, identifying their flaws, understanding what we're missing, and knowing the limits of our knowledge.

Look for evidence that supports and contradicts your beliefs.
Analyze both sides with as much objectivity as you can.

Read. Study. Think. Meditate. Contemplate.
Play the devil's advocate:
– What if I'm wrong?
– What if I'm right?
– What are others who agree with me saying — are they making sense?
– What are the people who disagree with me saying — are they raising valid points?
– Can I find holes in their logic?
– Can I find holes in mine?
– Have I looked at this issue from all the angles I’m capable of?
– Have I really done my homework?
– Am I being honest?

Whatever answer you come to will still be a relative truth — because, again, we are limited.
But it will be the highest truth you’re capable of reaching right now. And that matters.

Remember: faith, intuition, reason, and instinct — as valid as they may be — are not as solid as having empirical evidence.
And even empirical evidence can be misread.

We all have biases.
We all have blind spots.
That’s why humility is non-negotiable in the pursuit of truth.

Section 6 — Truth is the Goal of the Journey
Religion — the process of reintegrating with God — happens whether we’re aware of it or not.
Even if we ignore it, we’re still growing. Still learning. Still getting closer to God.

This journey includes everyone — even radical atheists, even the vilest criminals.

Nothing is wasted. Not our joy. Not our pain. Not even the harm we cause to others.

Every action — and every consequence — shapes us.
Even our worst moments — the shame, the harm, the regret — can become part of something greater.
Each one teaches us a lesson. That part is unavoidable.

Growth often requires friction, pain, challenges.
Grace often hides in places we wish we’d never been in.

But when we approach religion consciously, we begin to cooperate with the process and, therefore, we can begin to make the most of it.
Maybe even skip a few hardships.

And a major part of that conscious path is the search for truth.
God is the ultimate truth — and, as Jesus said, “the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).

But as human beings, we can never fully access that ultimate truth.
Our lifespans are short. Our memory is limited. So is our understanding. So is our knowledge.

So, how should we approach religion then?
The answer is simple to say — but hard to accomplish.
Study. Train your inner intuition. And follow it.

We all possess a voice deep within — a divine spark that guides us.
As Jesus said, “the kingdom of God is in your midst” (Luke 17:21).
The challenge is learning how to hear that voice — beneath the noise of daily life.

Section 7 — The Inner Voice
In today’s chaotic world, our minds are constantly preoccupied.
Stress, social media, and the endless demands of modern life keep us distracted — overstimulated, reactive, and often numb.

On top of that, we have our egos, our beliefs, and our personalities — shaped by evolution and conditioned to protect our self-image.
So when something threatens that image — even if it’s the truth — we instinctively resist it.

Cognitive science confirms this: we’re wired to defend our beliefs, even when we’re shown evidence that contradicts them.

Developing the ability to tap into our intuition and distinguish it from cognitive biases is a challenging but vital part of the process.

Now, when I say “intuition,” I don’t mean intuitive cognition.
Intuitive cognition is a subconscious, automatic process shaped by past experiences, emotions, and evolutionary adaptations.
It works well in familiar situations — but it’s also full of blind spots.

It is an extremely important aspect of our cognition so I will discuss it in more detail in a future episode.

The intuition I am talking about is that inner voice in the back of your head.
Slower, quieter and always talking.
It doesn’t scream at you, it doesn’t flatter your pride or justify your actions. It just points. Gently. Consistently.

It’s our job to listen — the challenge is to identify it among the noise.

That’s why every tradition teaches the same core practices:
Meditation. Prayer. Study. Fasting. Ritual.
Because these tools, when practiced regularly and with intent, help you get quiet enough to hear.

This in turn will enhance your capacity to discern the truth.
The process is flawed, yes. Mistakes are unavoidable.
But they’re part of it.
So expect to mess up and don’t get discouraged. Just learn when you do.

Another critical aspect of this journey is intellectual humility — the willingness to let go of even your deepest beliefs when confronted with new evidence.

Take the creation story in Genesis.
It says the world was made in six days. But science says it took billions of years.
So do we cling to a literal reading and dismiss everything we know from geology and cosmology?
Or should we consider that maybe it wasn’t meant to be literal?
That it could be symbolic — pointing to something deeper?
Maybe it was made up.
All options should be considered.

Letting go of rigid interpretations isn’t weakness. It’s growth.
Acknowledging all possibilities opens the door to deeper exploration.

Section 8 — The Path Is Personal
Regardless of what religious authorities or dogmatic followers may claim, religion is ultimately a personal journey.

No institution, no priest, no scholar can walk the path for you.
The good ones may provide guidance, yes — but in the end, the walk is yours alone.

Each person has unique skills, intelligence, perspectives, temperament, and experiences.

Ten people can read the same sacred passage and walk away with ten different insights.
And the same person may read it again years later and discover something entirely new.

This isn’t moral relativism or postmodern subjectivism. It simply means that truth — in religion as in any area of human knowledge — is layered.

Our ability to perceive it depends on our level of development.
And the deeper we delve, the more we uncover.

Religious truth must come from within.
It must be unconcealed — revealed from deep inside yourself.

Study, yes. Meditate, yes. Contemplate, and attend services if they help.
But never forget: these are tools — meant to help you remember what you already know, deep within.

As Plato said, “All learning is recollection.”
We’re not supposed to add something foreign, but to remember something deeply familiar.

The search for truth in religion should awaken what was always there — buried beneath conditioning, noise, fear, and stress.

In a world drowning in information, the ability to discern what’s real is more important than ever.
And that requires honesty. Especially with yourself.

We need to develop our intuition so that we can separate the grain from the chaff.

Seeking the truth is a never-ending pursuit of the unattainable.
We must be ready to let go of even our deepest beliefs.

Sacred texts were written and edited by human hands. And humans make mistakes.

So test everything.
Hold your beliefs up to the light.
Challenge your assumptions.
And remain open to all possibilities.

Ultimately, no matter how many books you read or teachers you follow, your highest master is the voice of God speaking from within — so train enough to hear it.

Embrace the journey back to God, one truth at a time.

Outro
Hey — thanks for tuning in.
If this episode resonated with you, please like, subscribe, follow, share — all that stuff.
Remember, I’m just a fool on a journey, trying to hear that inner voice beneath the noise of the world.
If you are too, welcome. Let’s walk together.