This is a difficult question. Conducting
my own research, I found that even pastors don’t find it easy to address it in
its entirety. There are many variables to consider that the Bible doesn’t say
anything about. Since it would take too long to include every detail and
circumstance in this post, I plan to address just some of the more important
aspects of the question. Please understand, also, that I am in no way an expert
in this area, and that I’m bound to making mistakes as well. From what I
concluded from my search, though, I hold to my belief that lying is not the
best way to face any situation.
Firstly, I would like to establish the
definition of a lie: A lie is a false statement told with the intention to
deceive. We also understand that the Bible explicitly commands us not to lie.
Here comes the difficult part. Many would
argue that there are times when lying is acceptable, or even permitted. One
such case would be when you have to protect someone. Two of the most famous
Bible scenarios that are often brought up are found in the book of Joshua, when
Rahab the harlot lied to protect the Israelite spies, and in the book of
Exodus, when the Israelite midwives lied to Pharaoh to save the male babies.
The supporters for conditional lying, or lying when “necessary,” would go on to
say that these people were blessed for what they did.
However, nowhere in the Scriptures do we
find God’s commending their act of lying, no matter how good their intentions
may had been. The Bible never approves of it, but it didn’t condemn these
particular persons for it either. Rahab was blessed. She was even mentioned in
the “faith chapter” of Hebrews 11. A plain study of what Scripture says,
however, would tell us that Rahab was commended and blessed for her heart of faith. Her lie was not
mentioned. Scripture also says that the midwives in Egypt were blessed “because [they] feared God.” Again,
their lie was neither commended nor condemned. From here, we cannot say that
lying was permitted or condoned.
Another famous example of lying to
protect someone is the story of Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie lived in the
Netherlands during the Nazi takeover of the country, and she is known for
rescuing and hiding Jews from the Germans. Nazi soldiers repeatedly came to her
house and asked if she were hiding Jews, and she always denied it. Ironically,
it was Corrie’s own sister, Nollie, who believed in being truthful at all
times. One day, when the Nazis once again came to inquire about any Jews they
might be harbouring, they had hidden the Jews in an underground cellar, the
door of which was under a table. When Nollie was asked the question
point-blank, she said yes. When asked where, she said, “Under the table.” The
soldiers looked, saw nothing there, and thought that Nollie was playing a joke
on them. They left without spotting the cellar door, and Nollie was faithful to
her conviction of truthfulness.
Previously we talked about lying to
protect others. What about lying to protect ourselves? My answer to that is
quite simple. If we did something wrong, we know we shouldn’t cover it up with
a lie. A sin leads to another sin. If we did something right, why would we need
to lie? We should rejoice in persecutions!
Finally, I would like to leave you with a
thought. Is it possible that lying, whether to protect ourselves or others,
reflects a lack of faith in God? In His will? In His power? If the Lord rescues
us physically, like He did for Nollie, praise be to Him! If He doesn’t, is that
reason enough to take the situation into our own hands by means of falsehood?
These are just the main aspects of the
question that are commonly raised. As I said, there are other scenarios.
Nevertheless, this is a matter that lies (pun not intended) between you and
God. Search Him and His Word, and I pray that He will lead you in all
righteousness and wisdom.
Just recently, I was watching a Chinese talent show with my family, and one particular act caught our attention. It was an apprehensive act in which a little girl of five years climbed a wall, using darts that her father threw into it as leverage. The following video from the show recounts the event.
As you could see, the father gave all he
had. He knew what was at stake. His daughter’s success was dependent on how
well and how strongly he paved the way for her climb. Everyone in the audience
was worried. It is not shown in the shortened video above, but one of the
judges wanted to inspect the darts himself. Everything in the show was spoken
in the Chinese language, so my aunt translated for me, and I learned that the
darts were buried into the wall at an average of half an inch. The little girl
weighed 30 kilograms, and, ideally, the darts had to be able to bear a weight
of about 40 kilograms. The father’s job was done. Now the rest fell upon the
shoulders of his daughter, and she succeeded.
My aunt said that there was a meaning
behind this act. The father paved the way for his daughter, but the girl had to
independently climb the wall herself. She went on to say that this is like how
our parents do what they can to guide us and teach us, but, in the end, the
responsibility ultimately falls on us.
Pondering on this, I took the observation
further. This little girl of five years placed in her father a trust that we
older folks struggle to have. Her father set up her steps and anchor points,
and said, in effect, “Climb this wall. Trust me.” It was then her decision to
do her part, and she did.
Doesn’t this also reflect our
relationship with our Heavenly Father in some way? He gave us instruction
through His Word, and gave us wisdom and strength through the Holy Spirit. He
paved our way, both to salvation and to the life He wants us to live. He gave
all He had—His life—and now He calls to us, “Walk this way. Trust me.” And
everything in our lives waits with bated breaths for our answer to the
question: “Will we?”
Is it possible that the trust portrayed
by the child reflects what is meant by “childlike faith”? As we grow older, we
start thinking for ourselves and learning about reality. And as a result, we
tend to think that we know everything, and that our judgements and decisions
are the best. Now, understand that I’m not saying we should be simpleminded or
gullible. In fact, quite the contrary. The Bible warns against
simplemindedness, and instructs us to live wisely, discreetly, and prudently.
However, childlike faith is an appropriate state of the heart when it concerns
our walk with the Lord. This will be explained in the next point.
There is a difference between the talent act
described above and our walk with God. The darts thrown by the father is
fallible. There are chances that some of the darts are weakly embedded, and
thus risk the girl’s safety and success. Not so with God. The stepping stones
He lays before us are firm and true. Because God knows what is truly best and
He loves us enough to give us that best, we can confidently believe that His
ways are infallible. This is why we can, and should, have childlike faith in
Him—because He never fails us when He does His part. The blame, then, for any
failure is ours (Real failure; not what seems like failure. There are things
that appear to be failures but are actually victories in God’s plan). The path
is sure; it is our choice whether to walk on it or not. We will reap the
rewards if we do, and the consequences if we don’t.
Finally, as we think of how the Heavenly
Father gave all He had to provide us a path to salvation, we should never
forget how He set His Son’s path to Calvary. The time was right, the world was
ready, and the stage was set. The Father paved the way, but Christ had to bear
the weight by Himself, just as the little girl had to climb the wall by herself.
Will we have such faith? Will we let God
set the path instead of insisting on doing it ourselves? Will we let God write
our story? When God says, “Walk this way. Trust me,” will we do it?
