Pic of the Day

 

Freedom and Truth

Freedom and Truth

By Margaret Fuller

To a Friend.

The shrine is vowed to freedom, but, my friend,

Freedom is but a means to gain an end.

Freedom should build the temple, but the shrine

Be consecrate to thought still more divine.

The human bliss which angel hopes foresaw

Is liberty to comprehend the law.

Give, then, thy book a larger scope and frame,

Comprising means and end in Truth’s great name.

 

 

About the Poem

Margaret Fuller’s poem Freedom and Truth offers a meditation on what freedom really means. She insists that freedom is not an end in itself, but a means to something higher — to truth, to comprehension of moral law, to the divine. Freedom without truth, she suggests, is an empty shrine: a structure without a god inside. For her, true human happiness comes from using liberty not merely for self-indulgence, but to understand and live within universal truths.

 

Reading Fuller’s lines, I couldn’t help but think of the chorus of Kris Kristofferson’s “Me and Bobby McGee” (made immortal by Janis Joplin):

 “Freedom is just another word for nothin’ left to lose…

And feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues.”

Though written more than a century later, these lyrics capture a strikingly similar tension. For Kristofferson and Joplin, freedom stripped of attachments is both exhilarating and hollow. It means release, but also loss. Like Fuller, the song suggests that freedom alone is not enough; its meaning is found when it leads to something more — in this case, authentic connection, soulful music, and the raw honesty of experience.

 

This resonates deeply with the American Transcendentalist movement, of which Fuller was a central voice. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “For what avail the plough or sail, or land or life, if freedom fail?” — reminding us that liberty matters only in so far as it sustains deeper purposes. Henry David Thoreau sharpened the point in Walden: “Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.” Both Emerson and Thoreau, like Fuller, argued that freedom was valuable only when it brought us closer to truth, authenticity, and the divine.

 

And yet, we see in our own age how this lesson is often forgotten. Freedom of speech, one of the most cherished liberties, is frequently used as a cover for spreading hatred, division, and outright lies. But freedom of speech divorced from truth is no freedom at all — it becomes the empty shrine Fuller warned against, a hollow liberty that erodes rather than sustains the human spirit.

 

Fuller’s 19th-century vision, Kristofferson’s 20th-century lyric, and our 21st-century struggles meet on common ground. All remind us that freedom cannot be idolized on its own. Whether in the pursuit of higher laws, in the fleeting transcendence of music and love, or in defending speech that is rooted in truth and justice, freedom gains its true meaning only when it opens into truth.

 

May we never forget that freedom without truth is a shell. Truth gives freedom its soul.

 

About the Poet

Margaret Fuller (1810–1850) was one of the great voices of the American Transcendentalist movement, though her life and legacy often stand in the shadow of Emerson and Thoreau. I’ve always been inspired by the Transcendentalists, but I find myself especially drawn to Fuller — not only her writings but also the way she lived her life, ahead of her time and unwilling to conform to society’s expectations.

 

Fuller was the first editor of The Dial, the Transcendentalist journal, and the author of Woman in the Nineteenth Century (1845), one of the earliest works of American feminism. In that book she declared, “Let every woman, who has once begun to think, examine herself.” That call to self-examination and truth resonates as much today as it did in her century. She also wrote, “Very early, I knew that the only object in life was to grow.” For Fuller, freedom was always tied to growth, to becoming more fully human, more fully alive.

 

Her life took her far beyond Concord. I’ve long had a fascination with American expatriates of the 19th century, and Fuller became one herself. In 1846, she traveled to Europe as a foreign correspondent for the New York Tribune. It was there that she found herself drawn into the currents of Italian nationalism — what would later grow into the Risorgimento, the movement for Italian unification.

 

Fuller fell in love with Giovanni Ossoli, a young Italian revolutionary, and bore his child. Their relationship had to be kept secret, both because of politics and because of society’s judgment. At one point she even entrusted her baby to the care of another family, only to find he was treated poorly — a decision that haunted her. Eventually, Fuller, Ossoli, and their child decided to leave Italy for America, carrying with them her manuscript history of the Roman Republic.

 

Tragically, they never reached American shores. In July 1850, their ship struck a storm and sank off Fire Island, just short of New York Harbor. Fuller, her husband, and her child all drowned. Their bodies were recovered, but her manuscript — the culmination of years of thought and observation — was lost forever.

 

Her life was brief and often tragic, yet Margaret Fuller remains one of the most remarkable American thinkers of the 19th century. She lived with passion, intellect, and conviction, and her words — as in Freedom and Truth — continue to remind us that liberty without truth is empty.

Pic of the Day

Mondays and Milestones

It was a busy weekend, and it’s shaping up to be a busy week ahead. Saturday was spent watching college football (Roll Tide!), and yesterday I went clothes shopping. That may not sound like much, but for me, it was a little milestone.

I haven’t really talked about this here, but I’ve lost some weight. My clothes just don’t fit the same anymore, and shopping has become a necessity. I don’t often bring up my weight because in the past it has sometimes led to rude comments or unsolicited advice. The truth is, I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life. Now, for the first time, I’m no longer overweight. I still have a way to go before I’m fully happy with my body, and with my back issues, I haven’t been able to get to the gym the way I’d like. Hopefully, that will change soon.

Yesterday’s shopping trip also meant a lot of walking—something I haven’t been able to do in months. By the time I got home, my body was completely exhausted. I used to love shopping, and if I only need to go to one store, I still enjoy it some. But going to half a dozen crowded stores is more than I can handle these days. Still, it was worth it to find clothes that fit and look nice for the events ahead.

As for this week, today is just a regular Monday at work—and Mondays are never fun. The bigger push comes later in the week with events Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. That’s part of why I needed those new clothes. I like to dress nicely anyway, but as the public face of the museum, I feel like it’s even more important to look put-together. First impressions matter, and I want to give a good one not just for myself, but for the museum as well.

It’s also a big week for my back. On Wednesday, I go in for an MRI of my lower back. I’ve been feeling much improved, so I’m hoping that the prognosis will be good. Between that and the long hours later in the week, it’s going to be a full schedule. Thankfully, I have tomorrow off as a bit of breathing room.

Here’s to a good week ahead—for all of us.


The picture above is not me, but like him I also need some new shoes—though that might not happen this week.

Pic of the Day

One Body, One Family

“For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.” 

— Romans 12:4–5

“So now you are no longer strangers and foreigners. You are citizens along with all of God’s holy people. You are members of God’s family.” 

— Ephesians 2:19

One of the hardest things about being LGBTQ+ is that so many of us have been made to feel like outsiders. Sometimes it’s been in our families, sometimes in our communities, and too often in our churches. That kind of rejection leaves scars. But when I read passages like these, I’m reminded that God doesn’t see us as strangers, outsiders, or “less than.” God sees us as part of the body, part of the family.

Romans 12 reminds us that the church is like a body—different members, different roles, but all working together. No part is useless, no part can say, “I don’t need you.” That means you, just as you are, bring something vital to the body of Christ. And Ephesians takes it a step further: we’re not just loosely connected, we’re family. Full citizens of God’s household. Not guests. Not outsiders. Family.

This is Christianity’s greatest strength—that people of every background, identity, and story are drawn together by God’s love into one body, one family. When LGBTQ+ people are excluded, that strength is weakened, because the body is not whole. Our gifts, our voices, our joy, and even our struggles are part of what makes the body of Christ stronger, more compassionate, and more complete.

That’s powerful when you’ve ever been told otherwise. 1 John 3:1 tells us, “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” It doesn’t say some of us. It doesn’t say only the ones who fit a certain mold. It says we are God’s children, and that includes LGBTQ+ folks too.

Galatians 3:28 reminds us that all the old dividing lines—Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female—don’t hold sway in Christ. “You are all one in Christ Jesus.” For us today, that verse could just as easily say: gay or straight, trans or cis, single or married—you are all one in Christ Jesus.

And here’s the other side of it: when one of us hurts, the whole body hurts. 1 Corinthians 12:26 says, “If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” So when LGBTQ+ people are rejected or mistreated, it isn’t just our pain—it’s the church’s pain. And when we live openly, joyfully, and authentically in God’s love, that joy is a gift that strengthens the whole body.

The Bible is also full of reminders that God takes what the world rejects and turns it into something essential. Psalm 118:22 says: “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” And Jesus echoed this in Matthew 21:42: “Have you never read in the Scriptures: ‘The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; the Lord has done this, and it is marvelous in our eyes’?” For anyone who’s ever felt pushed aside, those verses are a lifeline. What others reject, God makes foundational.

And so we’re called to do the same. Romans 15:7 tells us, “Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” That’s not a half-hearted welcome, not a “you can sit here, but stay quiet.” It’s a full, Christlike welcome that says: you belong, you matter, and we’re not whole without you.

Where do you most need to hear the reminder that you belong today? What unique gift or story do you bring that helps the body of Christ be more whole?

Pic of the Day

Moment of Zen: Tanlines

There’s just something about tanlines—those sharp contrasts etched by a summer of sun. Now that summer is over, the lines remain, like a secret reminder of long days, warm nights, and skin that still carries the memory of light. Sometimes what’s hidden makes the revealed all the more irresistible.

Pic of the Day

 

TGIWFHF*

 

It’s finally Friday, and I couldn’t be more thankful. Not only is it the end of the week, but it’s also my work from home day. That makes such a difference. No commute, no rushing out the door, no bracing myself for whatever mood my boss might be in. Instead, I can ease into the day with a little less stress, work from the comfort of home, and hopefully keep my migraine at bay. After the week I’ve had, that feels like a blessing.

I always look forward to Fridays, but this one feels especially good because I know what’s coming up next week. The first half should 🤞be relatively calm—Monday is shaping up to be quiet, and Tuesday I’m off. But Wednesday brings my MRI for my back, which I’m both anxious about and ready to get over with. Then the second half of the week kicks into high gear. Thursday through Saturday I’ll be working and participating in events for the museum. It’s going to be a lot to juggle, and I already know it’s going to take a lot out of me.

That’s why today feels even more important. I need this chance to breathe, to regroup, and to prepare myself for what’s ahead. Fridays at home are a reminder that little breaks like this can make a world of difference when life gets hectic. I’ll take the peace while I can get it.

I hope everyone has a great Friday and an even better weekend.

* Thank God It’s Work From Home Friday 

I almost forgot my Isabella Pic of the Week. I took this right after I wrote today’s post. She will likely be this way for at least 2-3 hours before she stretches, rotates a quarter turn, and goes back to sleep.