The Long Life of an Un-confessed Lie
by Elaine Storkey
first published by Church Times
It is interesting how long a lie hangs around. It is more than ten years since tennis icon Andre Agassi used a forbidden drug, but now he admits he lied to the Association of Tennis Professionals to escape a ban. France rugby centre Mathieu Bastareaud lied about being assaulted in New Zealand last June, but now has apologized, confessing he fell whilst drunk. And claims that Tony Blair lied to the Commons and the country about Sadam Hussein’s weapons of mass destruction have returned to dog the campaign for his Presidency of the EU.
Lying is clearly a serious issue. It is more than gently fibbing, or embellishing a tall story for effect. It has an altogether different motivation. It is done in the hope that we can keep secret what we do not want others to know. It is an attempt at cover-up, self-preservation, manipulation; more akin to hypocrisy than hype. And if a single lie requires further reinforcements until a whole army of falsehoods has been assembled, some are still prepared to continue the battle rather than give in and admit the truth.
Lying moulds our identity and influences our relationships. Most psychologists can tell us that this occurs in much deeper ways than we often suspect. For dishonesty changes who we really want to be. It forces us to harden our hearts and embrace self-delusion and distortion so that we can live more easily with our lie. It pushes us into building up our own internal rationalization, justification and cynicisms towards others. Or it turns us into people with little self-respect and whom others cannot respect, either. That's the reason why those around so often intuit the truth about people who lie. Others can detect, almost smell a lie on the breath, because the preserving power of trust has already gone.
We shouldn’t be surprised that the New Testament urges Christians to be uncompromising about the truth. ‘Let your yes be yes and your no, no,’ urges Jesus. We are to be people who can be trusted. And what can be more chilling than his reminder that there is nothing concealed which will not be disclosed – what we have whispered in private will be shouted from the housetops . (Luke 12 ) This is not mere moralism; it underlines the fact that what we do in secret shapes the person we present in public.
It all makes sense. We cannot radiate a public persona which professes virtue or calls for justice whilst doing something quite different in private; it doesn’t hold together. Over time it is the lying, more than what it covers up, that becomes the deeper problem and marks who we are. Those biblical injunctions are salutary; even if no-one else knows our secret we cannot escape it. And lies woven into the lifestyle of Christians contaminate relationships, damage communities and constitute a denial of the very Gospel we claim to espouse.
In his forthcoming autobiography Andre Agassi admits a lie which has lain dormant for years, and confesses his shame. Why? There was no external pressure to open up a shabby story of deceit. And it’s risky. Perhaps he is simply showing us that the depth of our human character depends on the quality of our private integrity. Rick Reilly the prizewinner sports writer, seems to think so. Quoting passages from the book, he asks: ‘Why is Agassi so scorchingly honest in these excerpts?’ His answer is penetrating: ‘Maybe because he once lived enough lies for five men. Or maybe because.... he's heard the truth can set him free.’
Elaine is a writer & broadcaster, lecturer and author. She was President of Tearfund from 1996 to 2014, has lectured in many continents, is a member of Newnham College, Cambridge and an Ambassador for Restored. She served on The General Synod of the C of E for 28 years, until 2015.. Her most recent book is “Scars Across Humanity: Understanding and Overcoming Violence Against Women”. elainestorkey.com