One sunny day a man was sitting on a bench in a park during his lunch break.  A stranger on a bench next to him spoke.  “Do you know that truth does, in fact, exists?...I not only know that it exists, I know what it is.”
     The surprised man thought to himself that this would usually be considered a sign that lunch is over and time to go back.  However, he figured he had a crazy day so far, so why not go against his better judgment and amuse the stranger by answering.
     “What makes you think you know that truth exists?” asked the man.
     “Only because now I see it,” said the stranger.  “In the past, I use to think I saw truth, or saw the lack of it. Only now that I see
the truth, do I realize my previous visions were merely illusions.”
     “Really…” said the man.
     “It is much like when you awake from a dream, only then realizing you were dreaming once you awake,” said the stranger.
     The man became slightly more interested in the stranger’s story.  He asked, “So then, what is
the truth?”
     “The truth is not spectacular, but boring, and painfully mundane, at least until you understand it.  It is also quite an oxymoron, in that it is both surprising, yet prevalent.  Tell me, if you were utterly certain that you knew truth, would you want to share?” asked the stranger.
     “Yes, yes I would,” said the man, “so why don’t
you share it with me…”
     “The truth is that
there is a difference between right and wrong, and that there is a Perfect Power behind the truth.  We spend most of our time in the wrong, but the Perfect Power has enabled us to make things right with It.”
     The man let out a relieved laugh, “You know, you almost had me.  You’re a Christian, and you are telling me about Christ.  I should’ve known.  Why can’t Christianity be more like the other religions and stop telling everyone about it and let people be?”
     The stranger replied, “Well, I imagine for the same reason you just said that
you would tell people the truth if you knew it.  I assume that you, too, would be enthusiastic if you had this knowledge.”
     “I know about Christianity already.  I spent many Sundays in church,” said the man.
     The stranger asked, “If you understand Christianity, then can you give a solid defense of it?”
     “Of course not.  I can’t even defend it from my own intellect exposing it for what it is,” said the man.
     “So you’re saying you understand Christianity, yet you can’t even defend it.  I hope, for your sake, that you don’t 'understand' that the earth is round in the same manner that you 'understand' the Christian faith,” said the stranger.
     The man responded, “You don’t get it.  What I understand is that there is no one universal truth, that is what is obvious!”
     "The only thing that is obvious,” said the stranger, “is that your knowledge of truth is ultimately based on denying truth.  Does that irony bother you?…Tell me, do you realize that whether or not what I’m saying is true, you would have the same intolerant response, regardless?”
     “No I wouldn’t,” said the man.
     “But you have,” said the stranger.
The man began to feel uneasy.  “...This is the time I usually get out of here…,” he said.
     “You’ll be back,” said the stranger.
The man began to leave the park, but when you looked back, he saw no one.