I've always felt that even though a man was not a Christian, he

John Coltrane, the great prophet of sound whose saxophone became a vessel of the infinite, once said: “I've always felt that even though a man was not a Christian, he still has to know the truth some way or another. Or if he was a Christian, he could know the truth. The truth itself doesn't have any name on it to me. And each man has to find this for himself, I think.” These words, spoken with the quiet gravity of a seeker, transcend the walls of creed and ritual. For Coltrane reminds us that truth is greater than labels, greater than the banners of religion or tribe—it is the eternal flame that every soul must discover in its own way.

The origin of this saying lies in Coltrane’s spiritual journey. After years of struggle with addiction, he experienced what he described as a spiritual awakening, a gift of grace that transformed his life and music. From that moment, his art became a prayer, a striving to connect with the divine. But Coltrane was not bound to one religious tradition. He read the Bible, the Qur’an, the Bhagavad Gita, the writings of mystics from East and West. For him, truth was not a possession of one faith, but a light shining through many windows. Thus he declared that truth “has no name on it”—it belongs to no sect, but calls to every man.

History echoes with similar wisdom. Consider Mahatma Gandhi, who proclaimed that truth is God, and God is truth. Though Hindu by heritage, Gandhi drew upon the teachings of Christ, the wisdom of Islam, and the traditions of countless others. For him, as for Coltrane, truth was not locked in a single cage. It was universal, a mountain that could be approached by many paths. Each man, said Coltrane, must “find this for himself.” This is not a denial of faith, but a call to sincerity: whatever path one walks, it must be authentic, born of personal seeking rather than blind inheritance.

Coltrane’s life itself was a testament to this principle. In albums like A Love Supreme, he wove together jazz improvisation with spiritual exaltation, creating music that spoke to believers and skeptics alike. His melodies transcended the divisions of race, nation, and creed, offering the experience of truth through sound. This was his sermon: that music could reveal what words could not, and that every soul could touch the eternal in its own way. His art embodied his belief that truth wears no single name, yet is accessible to all who earnestly seek it.

The lesson is profound: do not limit truth to the narrowness of labels. Honor traditions, but do not mistake them for the infinite. Truth is not the monopoly of the few, but the inheritance of all. Every person, whether Christian or not, whether devout or doubting, has the capacity to encounter reality, to touch what is eternal. What matters is not the name upon the truth, but the sincerity of the search. To find truth for oneself is not to reject others, but to honor the dignity of the human soul.

At the same time, Coltrane warns us of the danger of passivity. Each man “has to find this for himself.” No priest, no institution, no doctrine can substitute for the inner journey. Teachers may point the way, but the steps must be taken by the seeker alone. Truth is not given cheaply; it must be discovered, wrestled with, and embraced. To refuse the search is to remain asleep; to accept the journey is to awaken.

Practically, this means opening the heart to wisdom wherever it may be found. Read widely. Listen deeply. Reflect honestly. Do not be afraid to learn from those of other paths, nor to question the teachings you inherited. Seek the truth in scripture, in science, in music, in silence. And above all, live with sincerity, for truth is not only to be known but to be lived. In acts of love, justice, and compassion, truth reveals itself more powerfully than in any book.

Thus Coltrane’s words resound like a melody of eternity: truth has no name upon it, yet it calls to every soul. Christian or not, believer or skeptic, each must seek, each must find, each must live by what is real. Let us then be seekers, not possessors; pilgrims, not gatekeepers. For the truth is vast, and though our paths may differ, the light toward which we walk is one.