Many people lie frequently. Daily. Not big lies. The little fibs and ‘white lies’ that serve to make life a little bit easier - for ourselves, and also for others.
“Sorry I’m late - the bus was late.”
It wasn’t. There was an issue getting little Bobby off to school. A decision was made that missing the bus and arriving late for the ‘weekly’ meeting (held fortnightly first thing Wednesday mornings) was no big deal. I knew Jennifer was up first to talk about something totally irrelevant to myself and most of the department. Not her fault. Still, arriving intentionally late might appear disrespectful, unless covered by a small white lie.
No consequences. Everybody’s happy.
Manners differ between cultures, but it’s been common practice in many cultures and many periods of history for small lies to be required in the natural practice of good manners.
“No Mom. It’s no trouble at all.”
Truth is that it’s d**n inconvenient, because this is the day little Bobby is staying late after school to audition for band practice, so arrangements will now need to be made for Joey’s mother to pick him up, which means owing her one, which means Joey will have to be invited to little Bobby’s birthday party, which …
But Mom couldn’t know that. On most days what she’s asking would have been no big deal, so … the little white lie.
“It’s been a pleasure,” you lie to the irritating client who always acts as if he’s the only client you have, as you shake hands with him and finally see him off. It’s been a throughly frustrating thirty minutes of listening to his unreasonable grievances and the gruesome history of the psoriasis on his ankle. You had, after all, nothing better to be doing with the time than listening to the saga of his ill health.
“It’s good to hear from you …,” you say to the phone in response to a call from your personal nemesis who suffers from the demented delusion that she’s actually your friend, although you can’t think of anything you’ve ever done to encourage the delusion. But she gave you two good leads last month so …
And thus your fourth lie for the day rolls off the tongue with practiced deceit. Your much abused conscience, very active in some areas, squirms uncomfortably, but remains quiescent. It learned long ago that its concerns about ‘little white lies’ will always be ignored.
“Everybody does it,” one tells oneself. “It’s expected.”
And the sad truth is, that’s no lie.
Well - almost everyone.
And yet you were raised being told not to tell lies. It’s in The Bible - somewhere, although you couldn’t say where. Or is it one of the commandments? Just before the ones about not drinking or gambling? Or the eleventh commandment about same sex abominations? Or - wait, is that the one about promiscuity being bad and not kissing your prom date? You already made the decision that little Bobby will not be going to Sunday School classes.
Manners, Mom used to tell you, are the oil which enables society to function without friction. It’s wisdom. It’s truth. And lies seem to be part of manners, somehow. Does Rev. Michael lie, one wonders. Or does he somehow manage to get through life without? He’s the politest man you know. So, if he doesn’t lie, how does he manage to do it?
A moment’s thought to that awful time following that little fib, which got found out, and the ruckus it caused. The conscience is getting a little uppity today.
Of course lying is bad.
But these aren’t real lies. It’s not as if you’re telling them for your own advantage.
“That makes a difference?” That small familiar voice.
“Yes, Conscience, it does.”
“You’re sure?”
It gets one into the habit of lying. That can’t be a good thing, can it?
“Well - practice makes perfect.”
“Precisely my point.”
“Oh, shut up Conscience. Liar Liar was very funny, but I don’t need the morality lesson now.”
“Don’t you?”
Where exactly is the line between white lies and real lies?
And are real lies always bad?
Nazi officer, “Where are the Jewish children hiding?”
“I have no idea.” A justified moral lie.
“A different issue,” Conscience intrudes. “You’re obfuscating by introducing different moral issues to avoid the one that matters here.”
THOU SHALT NOT LIE.
Is that in The Bible?
“No it’s not,” Conscience comes back. Somehow Conscience seems to have absorbed Sunday School lessons better than the conscious mind. “Thou shalt not bear false witness - commit perjury,” is in there, but lying per se isn’t.
Well that’s a relief.
“So it’s OK. Anyway, didn’t Abraham lie about Sarai being his sister not his wife?”
“Yes. Twice. She was his half-sister too, so it was a half-truth, the most dangerous lies of all. But that didn’t make it all right,” Conscience responds.
“But he got away with it.” ‘Oops, I know I’m going to regret that.’
“Ah, so lying is alright so long as you don’t get caught lying?”
Sometimes one can really hate one’s conscience.
“But the good book doesn’t say it’s wrong to lie. Didn’t the wise men lie to King Herod about where Jesus was born?”
“Jesus correctly interpreted the good book to say that you should love others as you love yourself. Do you want others to lie to you?”
Conscience is truly annoying today, but it’s an interesting question.
“Well …?”
Of course it’s not alright. And gaining a reputation for being untrustworthy in little things does nothing for one’s reputation in big thing either. All very well to say, it’s different, but … where is that damn line? Find a dollar and keep it. Find a hundred dollars and make sure it get’s back to its owner. So what about ten dollars? How can anyone else know that you are trustworthy in big things if you aren’t in the small stuff? And how do they know where you draw the line if you aren’t even sure yourself?
Which is why Rev. Michael never tells a fib. He wants everyone to know he is absolutely trustworthy.
And then, inevitably, the little memories from the cellar that was supposed to be walled off, start seeping into one’s mind.
That promise to Grandma on her death bed.
It was such an unreasonable thing of her to ask. Of course you promised - Yes. In the circumstances, what else could one do? But asking one to make up with cousine Kathy after what she did … . Of course it hasn’t happened. And why should it make any difference just because it was a death bed promise? It’s not like Grandma’s around to be upset by it now, is she?
Not Celestial Koan’s usual style on this blog, but enough to make the point for today I think.