White Lies and Carnival Mirrors: A Meditation on the Ninth Commandment

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But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death (Rev. 21:8).

In an age when words are cheap, one of these sins can feel very much unlike the others. It’s not difficult to understand God’s severity toward idolaters who reject him, or toward murderers who stamp out the lives of those who bear his image, or toward the sexually immoral who rupture the most sacred relationships he’s given us. But will “all liars” really burn forever? Does such a punishment suit the crime? This article explores that question and seeks to uncover the logic behind one of the Bible’s earliest and most significant prohibitions against lying: the ninth commandment.1 Why is it that “false witness” makes the list of God’s top ten sins to avoid, again right next to the likes of idolatry, murder, and adultery? Is a little white lie really such a big deal?

1. The jury is actually still out for me on whether this is the ninth or eighth commandment. For simplicity, I assume the traditional Reformed-Orthodox numbering. But for a compelling argument in favor of the Catholic-Lutheran numbering (reading Exod. 20:17 / Deut. 5:21 as containing two commands and collapsing Exod. 20:2–6 / Deut. 5:6–10 into one command), see Jason S. DeRouchie, “Counting the Ten: An Investigation into the Numbering of the Decalogue,” in For Our Good Always: Studies on the Message and Influence of Deuteronomy in Honor of Daniel I. Block, ed. Jason S. DeRouchie, Jason Gile, and Kenneth J. Turner (Eisenbrauns, 2013), 93–126. Against DeRouchie’s reading, however, is the fact that it makes it impossible to say what “the ninth commandment” is. Is it a prohibition against coveting a neighbor’s house (Exod. 20:17a) or his wife (Deut. 5:21a)? The same issue arises with the tenth commandment. Additionally, it is difficult to explain how the ninth and tenth commandments are meaningfully different in this scheme, especially given the difference between Exod. 20:17 and Deut. 5:21.

On Laws and Lawgivers

The path toward an answer begins with another question: what do the Ten Words (or Ten Commandments) teach us about their author? While these commands take the form of negative prohibitions, each of them communicates something positive about the God who wrote them. That’s what laws do—they reflect the nature of the lawgiver; they reveal that lawgiver’s desires, and thereby they reveal his character and values.

So, what is our God like? What does he value? Well, the fact that the highest crime in his land is choosing another god above him (commandment #1, Exod. 20:3) reveals what God thinks about himself and the premium he places on his own glory. The first commandment says, “You shall have no other gods before me.” But it also says more. It reminds us that no other gods are worthy of his place. It reminds us that our God is the highest good, the chief sovereign, and the most valuable treasure in the world—to reject him in preference for another would not only be an act of cosmic treason; it would be the height of folly.

Similarly, when we are told not to murder and not to steal, we are reminded of something true about the author of those commands. We are reminded that he is a God of life and that he cares for the flourishing of his creatures. We’re reminded that though he sits above us, we are more than insects to him, for he prohibits the murder of a neighbor, not the crushing of an ant. Nor does he make provision to ensure that ant’s house isn’t broken into. But when God says, “you shall not steal,” he reveals his concern for our security and peace of mind. Again, the laws reveal the heart of the lawgiver—that he is benevolent and kind.

The God Who Never Lies

What then does the ninth commandment reveal about the character of God? What truth are we reminded of when we read, “you shall not bear false witness against your neighbor”?

We are reminded that we serve an honest God—a God who never lies to us or deceives us; a God we can trust. We’re reminded that he never changes his mind or makes promises to us that he doesn’t keep. He doesn’t manipulate or maneuver to gain an advantage (the typical motivation behind bearing false witness against someone). Our God is true, and that is very good news. This fact is stressed all over the Bible.

  • “God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?” (Num. 23:19).
  • “Not one word of all the good promises that the LORD had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass” (Josh. 21:45).
  • “The words of the LORD are pure words, like silver refined in a furnace on the ground, purified seven times” (Ps. 12:6).
  • “eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began” (Titus 1:2, emphasis added).
  • “So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us” (Heb. 6:17–18, emphasis added).
  • “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth” (John 17:17).

Cover to cover, the biblical authors never tire of reminding us that our God speaks only what is true.

But why bring all this up? How does this reminder about God’s honesty help us understand why our lies are such a big deal to him?

White Lies and Carnival Mirrors

The apostle Paul connects the dots for us between God’s honesty and his commands that we tell the truth. We are to be truth-tellers because we were made (and for Christians: remade) in the image of our truth-telling Creator.

Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator (Col. 3:9–10).

So, why are our lies so serious? Why does “false witness” make the list of God’s ten greatest sins? Because we bear his image (Gen. 1:27), and our lies testify falsely about him. They communicate to the world that God is not true, not honest, and therefore not to be trusted. When we lie, we don’t just say to the world, “I’m a liar”; we say to the world, “and the God whose image I bear might also be a liar, just like me.”

When we lie, we become, in effect, walking carnival mirrors. Our neighbors look at us, rightly hoping for some glimpse of their Creator. But when our lives are filled with lies, they find only a frightening distortion. “The face is screwed up,” they say, “one arm is too long, and the left eye is missing.” Expecting a picture of God, they instead find a goblin. And so, they turn away for prettier sights. Thus, when we lie, our lives begin to serve the opposite purpose of that for which we were made. Instead of reflecting the glory of God so that the watching world might be drawn to him, we distort that glory and push the onlooker away.

This is true not just for the large lies we tell, but for our “little white lies” as well. Our “fibs” and half-truths sow seeds of doubt about the character of our Creator. And it is the nature of a seed to grow.

We’ve all seen this sad story play out in the lives of parents and children. Why is that one small lie from a father is so devastating to a six-year-old? Because trust is a fragile thing, easily broken. “If he lied to me about this, what else has he lied to me about? On what basis can I trust anything he says?” So too do the “little white lies” of an image bearer begin to erode people’s trust in the God whose image we bear.

In sum, we can begin to better appreciate the gravity of a lie when we remember that we were made to reflect the glory and honesty of our Creator. In an age full of lies and deception, how desperately the world needs to know that there is at least One who is true. Therefore, God commands his children, “You shall not bear false witness.” He desires that our words reflect his own. And if that is to be the case, we must learn to speak the way he does: truly.

Leaving the Carnival

Practically, then, what does it look like to image an honest God in a low-trust, twenty-first century society where words are cheap? Where are we tempted today to bear false witness, even as Christians, and how are we to avoid those temptations?

I find that temptations abound to bear false witness against our neighbors, but that those temptations are often subtle. Consider just a few examples.

  • The excused delay. You’re running late, again. How do you explain yourself? Was it really traffic? The same traffic you’ve come to expect every day for years? And was the kids’ slow trek on their way out the door anything out of the ordinary? Do they deserve the blame for your tardiness? Is your testimony against them true?
  • The shaded retelling. A friend asks you about a conflict you had with your wife. You don’t lie, and you don’t explicitly bad-mouth her. But your selective report gives the distinct impression that your share of the blame is quite small. Your words weren’t technically false, but was your testimony true? Did it accurately and fairly represent the situation?
  • The unverified claim. “You won’t believe what I heard about Mrs. So-and-So…” No, they actually will believe it. Because you told them, even though you made no effort to discern if that testimony was true or not.
  • The assumed motive. You read the email: Johnny D just volunteered for another overnight shift. It will be his fifth this month. “I wonder who he’s trying to impress,” you wonder aloud in the breakroom. Perhaps he is trying to look good for the boss. Or perhaps he’s just seeking to please God and provide for his family. You simply don’t know. But your unrestrained musings have borne a sure witness against him. Was that witness true?

The list could go on. There are these and a thousand other temptations every day to cast others down with our words so that we might lift ourselves up. But if we are to image God rightly—if we are to reflect to our neighbors anything of his integrity and trustworthiness—then we must leave the carnival of lies and “each one of us speak the truth with his neighbor” (Eph 4:25). We must be honest when we speak about others, in both the big and the small things.

In an age that only encourages careless words, this is challenging. But thankfully, there is an image bearer who likewise came to the carnival, but who already went out before us. Our task in keeping the ninth commandment is merely to follow him. We read above that our truth-telling is to be the fruit of being “renewed in knowledge after the image of [our] creator” (Col. 3:9–10). But just a few chapters earlier in Colossians, we found a man already fully renewed: “He [Jesus] is the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15). And as we follow him, we will find that carnival mirrors can indeed be made straight.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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  • Cory Chilcote is a Software Engineer and PhD student in Old Testament at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. He's also a member of Hunsinger Lane Baptist Church, where he serves as a deacon and small group leader and oversees adult Sunday school.

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Cory Chilcote

Cory Chilcote is a Software Engineer and PhD student in Old Testament at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky. He's also a member of Hunsinger Lane Baptist Church, where he serves as a deacon and small group leader and oversees adult Sunday school.