We are drowning in a sea of voices. Different voices tell us different things, and each voice seems to carry its own truth. On the one hand, there’s a powerful voice beckoning us towards self-sacrifice, self-denial, altruism, and heroism, telling us that happiness lies in giving life away, that selfishness will make us unhappy, and that we will only be ourselves when we are big-hearted, generous, and put the needs of others before our own. Deep down, we all know the truth of that; it is Jesus’ voice telling us that there is no greater love nor meaning than to lay down one’s life for others. Fr. Ron Rolheiser writes that Francis of Assisi was right: we only receive by giving. And so we admire people who radiate that, and we feed our souls and those of our children with stories of heroism, selflessness, and bigness of heart. But that’s not the only voice we hear. We also hear a powerful, persistent voice seemingly calling us in the opposite direction. Superficially, this voice calls us towards pleasure, comfort, and security, the voice that tells us to take care of ourselves, drink in life’s pleasures to the full, and seize the day while it’s still ours to have. More profoundly, this voice challenges us not to be too timid or fearful to be a complete human being. This voice invites us to participate in, contribute to, and enjoy the incredible energy, color, wit, intelligence, and creativity that make the world go round and make life worth living. This is the voice beckoning us towards romance, creativity, art, sex, achievement, and physical health, the voice telling us Jesus’ parable of the talents and holding before us a truth too often neglected in religious circles, namely, that God is also the author of eros, color, physical health, wit, and intelligence. So, which is the real voice? There is no simple truth here or anywhere else. Truth is painfully complex (as are we); truth is always bigger than our capacity to absorb and integrate it. To be open to truth is to be perpetually stretched and perpetually in tension, at least on this side of eternity. And that’s true in terms of the seeming opposition between these voices. At times, they are in real opposition, and we can’t have it both ways but have to choose one to the detriment of the other. Truth has real boundaries, and there’s a danger in letting it mean everything. But there’s an equal danger in allowing it to mean too little, of reducing a full truth to a half-truth—and nowhere, at least in the spiritual life, is this danger more significant than in our tendency to let either of these voices completely blot out the other.