Years ago, I read an article that changed my life.

And I’m not exaggerating. In the article, the writer was suggesting books in a field (theology) that I’ve studied since I was a child. The books the author suggested were ones I had never heard of but his comments and ideas about them were so insightful that I almost immediately bought every volume (probably ten) that he was suggesting.

The books did not disappoint. They were uniformly good, and changed the way I thought and studied in several crucial ways. I still read them.

I began corresponding with the author, first praising the article, and asking for further advice and ideas. He was helpful, thoughtful, and guided me, and I was (and am) very grateful.

All went well until a couple of years later I found out that the author was going to be at a meeting in a neighboring state. I wrote (this was pre email) asking him if I could meet him for dinner and pick his brain in person. He graciously agreed and the several hours I drove for this dinner seemed a small price to pay for seeing someone in person who had done so much for me.

Until I got there. I met him and his wife at a small restaurant off the highway, and if I didn’t already know what her looked like, I’d have wondered if I’d gotten a mix-up.

The one who was insightful, interesting, and witty in print was petty and gossipy in person. He was almost immediately boring, and unlike get togethers where you wish it wouldn’t end, I found myself grateful that I needed to drive back home because of a work obligation. In other words, I was happy that there was an end to the meeting.

Of course, none of this changed anything about what I’d gotten, and still do, from his writing. But it took a few days to mentally readjust to a new perspective. I had seen his feet of clay.

Feet of clay is a reference to a story in the biblical book of Daniel. The prophet has a vision of a huge idol made of all types of precious and enduring metals, but the idols feet were made of clay. And any metallic object standing on clay is unlikely to endure.

You have likely had similar experiences. Someone you trusted, someone you liked, someone you learned from disappointed you.

What’s our takeaway from this kind of experience?

First, breathe deep and know that this was inevitable. Humans are prone to sometimes being petty, insipid, and insincere. You have just had confirmed what you already knew about human nature.

Second, none of the foibles or faults you found out about this person changes what they have given you. (This applies to groups and organizations as well). Most of the time, it’s petty stuff. You thought that your person was above the petty stuff we all do. But very few of us are that saintly.

Finally don’t let a bad experience make you jaded or suspicious of people. If you keep an open, excited attitude toward people, you will make amazing acquaintances, and you will learn a lot. Be open, be ready, and don’t be disappointed when someone turns out to be, well, human