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Clearly, we all saw, heard, and learned the same truth, yet starting with myself, the forms, perspectives, scopes, and depths of our acceptance are as varied as our faces. As the teacher always said, “Not all fruits on the same tree taste the same, nor do they all fully bear fruit just because they receive the same nourishment.” Even though we heard, learned, and encountered the same things through the teacher, depending on the state of our hearts, our thoughts, and our emotions, we fail to accept it as it is, fail to reach its depth, and in severe cases, arrive at entirely wrong conclusions. This made me realize anew how much human thoughts and emotions distort our eyes and ears, preventing us from hearing and seeing, and slowing our progress. Moreover, as I observed the process of learning and experiencing the truth—not as mere theory but as something applied in life—I saw that just as our faces differ, so do our habits. The teacher’s responses, like prescriptions tailored to each habit, were diverse and multifaceted. In that process, though the speed and depth of our inner experiences and emotions varied, I could see that we were all passing through and have passed through a similar path. This showed me that while the truth is free and versatile, not confined to a rigid mold, its standard and core stem from a single root.
As I read the writings, though there were differences in degree, it seemed that everyone had felt these things at least once and could relate to them. Reading the family members’ writings, I saw my own shortcomings in someone’s firmness and clarity, while another’s account of repeated discouragement and rising again made me reflect on my own struggles. Compared to the past, I’ve become more complacent now, and rather than feeling humbled and guilty before my shame and habits, I’ve grown numb, which makes me feel ashamed. The more my heart aches and the harder it gets, the more I face the reality that my own drive and will aren’t enough, the more I should desperately cling to God and cry out to Him. But when my drive falters and I face my limits countless times, realizing that I can’t do it on my own is a good start—yet my sighs don’t turn into prayers; they just stop there. Because of this, I couldn’t attain deeper and broader things or grow the gift of wisdom further.
Reading the family’s writings, I felt anew how much grace I’ve received. Though it seemed I possessed it, even as one who has received a gift of wisdom , which doesn’t even feel like mine, I was able to feel more deeply — amid my shame — how different true wisdom is from what I have. It’s not because of my righteousness that I’ve reached this point; it’s simply because I’ve been by the teacher’s side the longest, closest, learning, hearing, feeling, and experiencing the truth. In a way, my position and place naturally allowed me to experience, feel, learn, and gain more than others. Just as water flows from top to bottom, just as an apple tree gives off an apple scent and a grapevine a grape scent, it’s not my actions or achievements but my proximity to the teacher that has inevitably allowed his virtue to influence me the most. Though I’m still very lacking, I’ve received more of the gift of wisdom and today’s form through that grace and virtue than others, and for that I’m grateful. Yet, I’m ashamed that despite receiving such grace, I’ve often let dissatisfaction outweigh gratitude.
To receive great grace, it’s natural that it comes with deep heart struggles, tears, effort, and hardship. But when I face my limits in those hardships, I’ve often found myself unwittingly directing resentful complaints toward the teacher: “I have no patience, it’s hard and overwhelming—why do You keep putting me through heart-wrenching worries and burdens like giant mountains?” I’ve experienced and learned that such heartache, with its tears and sorrow, tears my heart apart to create depth and breadth. But when it becomes real for me, instead of holding onto prayer and pressing forward, I want to sit down, avoid it, and sometimes feel irritated or angry—my stubborn heart taking the lead. Because of these fleeting emotions of like and dislike, I couldn’t fully obey the situations, rebukes, or actions I faced, and thus couldn’t fully receive the grace being added to me or establish the form I should have in my position. I’ve gained the natural form and fruit that come from being near the teacher, but I’m ashamed that I haven’t achieved the greater form and fruit that should have come through effort and prayer. If I can’t let go of myself, my emotions, my stubborn likes and dislikes, and my standards and judgments become the greatest obstacles—closing my eyes, ears, and heart, distorting the truth I see, hear, feel, and engrave, preventing me from absorbing the nourishment as it is and cultivating the beautiful love in my heart. This became even clearer as I read my own and the family’s writings.
Through countless repetitions, we’ve felt and experienced that our own drive and will can’t change, transform, or gain anything. Now, I hope we can attain the grace and power of prayer—prayer that leaves us no choice but to receive grace, tears that leave God no choice but to help us. In humility and prayer, relying on God, I hope each one of us receives grace, and like treasures shining with various lights according to the talents and purposes God has given, not just me but all of us together fulfill our roles and duties, becoming lamps that illuminate this truth. This has made me feel more strongly the inevitable need and obligation to do so. No matter how true the truth we learn and know is, if we don’t bear its form and fruit, the truth we share is no different from the empty theories of Christianity. As learners, we should follow the evidence of the form and fruit we’ve received from the teacher, cultivating the fruit and form of grace in our hearts. Rather than a hundred words, we should become workers who testify and spread this truth through actions and examples that shine forth. Yet, seeing how lacking and weak we still are fills me with shame and has become an occasion for earnest longing.
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