Many years ago, when I was a young pastor and a seminarian, my wife and I caught the movie, “A Man for All Seasons,” Robert Bolt’s account of Thomas More in 16th century England. I was transfixed by Bolt’s depiction of this man whose integrity and personal strength in the face of pressure from King Henry VIII stood him head and shoulders above his generation. After seeing the movie, I read everything I could find on St. Thomas More.
I didn’t have to read very far before discovering More to be a far more complex figure than the play had made him out to be, one who would have had citizens who believe as my denomination does burned at the stake. That took the shine off his character for me. However, I love the movie so much I own it, and have bought the book containing Bolt’s play. Memorable lines from the play have made many an apt illustration for my sermons over these decades.
In his introduction, Robert Bolt pays tribute to the chief characteristic of Thomas More that made him who he was. “As I wrote about him, (More) became for me a man with an adamantine sense of his own self. He knew where he began and left off, what area of hmself he could yield to the encroachments of his enemies, and what to the encroachments of those he loved.”
He knew where he began and where he left off; what a fascinating way of putting it. Knowing himself so thoroughly, More was able to turn down all kinds of bribes and threats thrown his way to entice or coerce him to violate his own conscience. He ended up paying for this kind of steadfastness and integrity with his life.
The ancient Greeks made much of the importance of a person knowing himself. We don’t hear much about it these days, which is a shame, because many a heartache and tragedy in life could have been avoided by a person truly knowing himself.
Here are some questions to help us know ourselves and to decide how well we do.