The Sword and the Stone: The Call of the Heart

The tale of The Sword in the Stone—woven into the fabric of legend—tells of a young, unknowing Arthur, who, by quiet strength of character rather than might, draws the sword from its unyielding resting place. In that singular act, his destiny awakens.

The sword was never meant for the strongest hand, but for the purest heart. For in truth, authentic power is never seized—it is revealed. Revealed by grace. Claimed in humility.

From the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus offers this enduring truth: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”— Matthew 5:5 (KJV)

Grace. Humility. Meekness. These are not isolated virtues—they form a sacred triangle of strength, shaping how we relate to God, to others, and to ourselves.

On the other side of the stone lies the illusion of the “strongest hand”—rooted in arrogance, egocentricity, and inflated self-importance. Left unchecked, self-importance becomes corrosive. It weakens friendship, erodes trust, and casts a long shadow over career paths and relationships. It’s an easy illusion to fall into—I know, because I’ve lived it.

The ego, like a cunning chameleon, cloaks itself in certainty and seduces us away from the simplicity of who we truly are. I reflected on this in an earlier essay titled The Illusionary Guise of the Panjandrum:

“In reality, the only genuine authority we possess lies within ourselves—over our own thoughts, actions, and choices. While this truth may seem elementary, our human tendency often skews our vision, tempting us to see others through a self-imposed lens of superiority. This distortion subtly, but powerfully, undermines our ability to connect.”

Jesus speaks directly to this: “Judge not, that ye be not judged.”— Matthew 7:1–5

His words are a call to humility and self-examination. We are reminded to first remove the log from our own eye before addressing the speck in another’s. For judgment, cloaked in self-righteousness, diminishes not only those we criticize—but ourselves as well. Instead, we are called to live differently. To choose a path illuminated by grace—to see others not through the lens of superiority, but through the lens of shared humanity. In doing so, we create space for connection and compassion.

“We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.”— Maya Angelou

In practicing non-judgment, we cultivate inclusivity, deepen our understanding, and grow in our capacity to celebrate one another’s uniqueness.

Beneath our surface differences, we all carry wounds. We all long for love, purpose, and belonging. We all seek the courage to transform fear into hope.

And in life’s brevity, there is urgency. The call to become beacons of light—acknowledging and uplifting the goodness in others, especially those burdened by loss, grief, or hardship. We are invited to forgive—ourselves and others—and to lay down the weight of what no longer serves.

For me, that lesson came early.

At sixteen, I was just a part-time stock boy, enamored with my first boss. He wore a suit, smoked cigars, and exuded success. In my young eyes, he was a superhero. I mimicked his confidence, mistaking image for essence. By twenty-two, married with two children and bills mounting, I took a job on the factory floor of a Chrysler plant. It was there—on the bottom rung of a massive organization—that I was humbled. My sense of self-importance collided with reality.

And yet, in that humbling space, I began to learn. I listened. I saw the good in others. I rose—not by power, but by grace. Not through force, but through humility. I climbed the corporate ladder not alone, but by drawing on the wisdom and support of those around me.

Some may say I pulled the sword from the stone. If so, it was not by might—but by meekness.

Let me be clear: I do not claim to possess greater wisdom or deeper knowledge than anyone else. I do not write to teach, convert, or convince. I write to share—to open a window into my heart and experience, in the hope that something here may speak to you.



Perhaps in these words, you’ll hear a familiar echo. Perhaps something will lift your spirit, affirm your path, or gently turn your gaze toward a new good.

That is my only aim. And in that, I offer this reflection with gratitude and love.

As always, I encourage you to share this with others in your life!

Blessings, and also always, with love, Ron

My new book, Reflections of the Heart, is available online at Barnes & Noble and Amazon.