It’s a bad thing to tell a lie.
Generally speaking we oughtn’t do it.
Truth be told, however, I suspect we lie less often than one might think, and do more damage with
the non-lies that we tell.
For me to lie I have to do two things, first- speak an untruth,
and also know that I am speaking an untruth.
It happens. I’ve done it and will do it again for certain.
The great thing about lies, however, is that they can be exposed.
Which puts some restraint on us from telling them.
There is no such restraint when we are certain of our perspective.
Often, however, our certainty outruns the facts.
We accuse our brother, not because we’re lying, but because we’re jumping to conclusions. And we’re jumping to conclusions because we love nothing more than to judge our brothers.
We do not love them, but think evil of them, we assign motives we cannot possibly know and having done so, finding them guilty, we then pass on our verdict to others, who convict on the basis of our testimony.
People are sinners.
We ought to know that.
When an accusation is made, no matter how horrific, we stand ready to believe it.
What we seem unable to believe is that people who are bad enough to commit horrific sins is a people bad enough to falsely accuse others of horrific sins.
When an accusation is made the cry comes forth from the compassionate ones that no quarter should be given to the accused, because the guilty deserve no quarter.
Those who raise questions about evidence are then deemed enablers, chiselers of the legal system, conspiratorial blackguards. You can always tell the guilty ones- they’re the ones trying to stop the lynch mob.
I have a friend who used to complain that in our day conversation had devolved into taking turns sharing. You give your opinion, while I silently count down the seconds until it’s my turn to give mine. When the third guy gets his turn we move on to a new theme, but the same practice.
Now, with social media, with instant communication, we all feel the pressure not just to have a take on everything, but to have one right now, you know, before witnesses can be deposed, before credibility can be assessed. The internet and the scandals it covers put us all on a jury. They demand a verdict all while confessing that, sadly, a trial just isn’t possible.
We are called to be Bereans. We ought to be checking out the teaching of those to whom we give our attention. And we are rightly free to comment on public commentary. This kind of trial, however, comes with a ready made system of evidence- footnotes1. Just because you think someone said “x” doesn’t mean they actually did. Better to check your sources. But we are also called to be Bereans about the accusations we make, or the accusations we hear against others.
We are to practice a love that “thinks no evil” (I Corinthians 13:1-6).
We are called to be Bereans of our own hearts, and of our own tongues.
A rush to judgment is always bad judgment.
- Be sure to read not just the little number, but read the footnote. And then read the source the footnote cited. I was once convicted of holding to a doctrine I have always opposed. The scholar who accused me included a footnote to prove I was guilty. He cited my “writings.” No specific writings mind you, just my “writings.”