Thrown in the Pit: When Truth Costs You

Thrown in the Pit: When Truth Costs You

1st Reading: Jeremiah 38:4–6, 8–10: In this passage, the prophet Jeremiah is thrown into a cistern—an empty well—because his message is too uncomfortable. He’s not preaching doom for the sake of it; he’s telling the truth. But the truth threatens the status quo, so the officials silence him. He sinks into the mud, alone, until an outsider—Ebed-Melech—steps in to pull him out.

This isn’t just a story about ancient politics. It’s a story about what happens when you speak truth in a system that doesn’t want to hear it. And for those of us in recovery—or those of us who work as Fixers—it hits close to home.

 

Recovery Lessons from the Cistern

1. Speaking Truth Can Cost You
Jeremiah didn’t get thrown in the pit for lying—he got thrown in for telling the truth.

Recovery Insight:
In early sobriety, I feared that telling the truth about my drinking would strain relationships, damage my reputation, and disrupt my comfort. And yes, it was a shock to many—35 years of façade management came to an end. For those closest to me, it triggered scepticism and guardedness. Scepticism because they’d heard promises before. Guardedness because they didn’t want to get hurt again.

I deserved those reactions. But I pushed through. Truth-telling gave me freedom from the lies and a clean slate to build my spirituality on. It gave me real hope that God would free me from the shackles of wanting to drink.

As a Fixer, I’ve always believed in getting everything on the table—warts and all. You can’t fix what you won’t face. I often think of the Barings Bank derivatives trader who hid his losses in a drawer until they brought down the oldest merchant bank in Britain. Truth always comes out. Better to name it early.

In business, pointing out Jeremiah’s pit—especially as an external consultant—can get you labelled “difficult” or “disruptive.” But silence is complicity. Naming the pit is the price of integrity. It’s also the starting point for building the rope to climb out.

 

2. The Pit Is Real—but So Is the Rescue
Jeremiah sinks into the mud. He’s not just rejected—he’s stuck. But then comes Ebed-Melech, a foreigner, a nobody in the power structure, who risks everything to pull him out.

Recovery Insight:
We all have pit moments—shame, relapse, despair. But help often comes from unexpected places. In AA, I’ve learned from people I never would’ve chosen—people with face piercings, criminal records, or worldviews that don’t match mine. But they had the rope I needed.

 

3. Don’t Underestimate the Power of One Advocate
Ebed-Melech doesn’t have rank, but he has courage. He speaks up, takes action, and saves a life.

Recovery Insight:
Sometimes, all it takes is one person to believe in you. One sponsor. One mate. One stranger who says, “You don’t belong in that pit.” And sometimes, you’re the one holding the rope for someone else.

You’ll find that person if you look. How? By continually pursuing grace—in the trials, the mundane, and the menace of life. You won’t find grace or the rope-holder if you sit at home with the curtains drawn, looping sad songs and saying “woe is me.”

 

Fixer Reflection: The Courage to Speak and the Wisdom to Wait

As a Fixer, I’m wired to call things out, name the problem, and act. But Jeremiah reminds me that timing matters. Sometimes, the system isn’t ready to hear the truth. Sometimes, you get thrown in the pit. That doesn’t mean you were wrong.

My job is to tune my empathy telemetry. When the time feels right, I speak with integrity, act with courage, and trust that even if I end up in the mud, grace will send someone with a rope.

What’s never right for me is to “go full-Fixer” at every business or recovery problem. The timing might be right for me—but not for my clients or fellow travellers. But when I see someone else in a deep pit, I don’t wait for permission. I override the empathy regulator—and I throw the rope.