If we lie to avoid a client, distort information to gain an advantage or use an employee to spread falsehoods, our professional conduct also reflects what we believe.
Photo: [link]René Ranisch[/link], Unsplash CC0.
This is a phrase we use every day, one that puts our Christian principles to the test: “Tell him I’m not here”. How many times have we said or heard this phrase in a professional setting?
The phone rings, someone wants to speak to us, and before we even know what they want, we give this instruction: “Tell him I’m not here”… even though we are.
Perhaps we don’t want to speak to that person. We know they are calling about a problem, to ask for explanations, or to discuss an issue we’d rather avoid. Then we look for what seems to be the easiest way out.
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However, we need to make one thing clear: we are not only willing to lie, but also asking someone else to lie on our behalf.
[destacate]Can a Christian justify deception simply because it is convenient, useful, or avoids an unpleasant situation?[/destacate]The phrase is so common that it has almost lost its power to shock, but it raises a question of conscience: can a Christian justify deception simply because it is convenient, useful, or avoids an unpleasant situation?
The problem arises precisely when the truth comes at a cost. If admitting a mistake works in our favour, we’ll probably do so without difficulty.
If telling the truth makes us look good, it doesn’t require too much of a sacrifice either. The real test comes when honesty might harm us.
In an office, for example, it would be enough to say: “He can’t see you right now” or “He’s busy; if you’d like, you can call him later”.
We can protect our privacy, our schedule and our right not to have a conversation, without needing to make up an excuse.
Perhaps this little everyday scene reveals something deeper: how easily we can sacrifice a basic principle, such as the truth, to avoid discomfort.
We have learnt to soften the word ‘lie’.
We call it a ‘white lie’, a ‘benevolent lie’ or a ‘necessary lie’. It seems that by changing its name, we also diminish its seriousness.
[destacate]Recognising different degrees of responsibility is one thing; making lying acceptable simply by calling it by different names is quite another. A small lie is still a falsehood and, therefore, a sin[/destacate]It is true that not all lies have the same consequences or carry the same moral responsibility. A trivial falsehood cannot be equated with false testimony intended to destroy a person; nor with a deception that causes serious harm.
That is why the Christian tradition has distinguished between different degrees of sin, speaking also of venial and mortal lies.
However, recognising different degrees of responsibility is one thing; making lying acceptable simply by calling it by different names is quite another. A small lie is still a falsehood and, therefore, a sin.
Jesus makes a particularly serious statement about this when he calls the devil “a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44).
In contrast, Christ identifies himself with the truth: “I am the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6).
The contrast could not be clearer. A lie belongs to the realm of deception, whereas Christ presents himself as the truth.
That is why the problem is not merely a matter of determining whether a lie is big or small, but whether such language forms part of our everyday communication.
It is time to ask ourselves what kind of behaviour we are allowing to become part of our character.
In “Tell him I’m not here”, there is an added responsibility.
[destacate] A boss may consider that he is giving a trivial instruction, but the employee is forced to convey a falsehood with which he does not want to become involved[/destacate]We can even avoid saying the falsehood ourselves. We get someone else to say it.
That person may then face a conflict of conscience: whether to obey the person in authority or tell the truth.
This issue is particularly significant in the business world. A boss may consider that he is giving a trivial instruction, while the employee is forced to convey a falsehood with which he does not want to become involved.
The Christian principle should precisely be the opposite: we should not use our authority to lead others to act against their conscience.
Jesus taught that our word must be clear and trustworthy, so that we do not need to deceive others to achieve our aims.
Scripture does not present lying as a theoretical issue. Its pages are full of people who had to deal with truth, fear, expediency, and the consequences of their decisions.
The first great deception occurs as early as Genesis 3. The serpent questions God's word and says, “You will not surely die” (Genesis 3:4).
[destacate]Lying is not just a neutral tool. The Bible presents it as part of a pattern of deception that opposes God’s truth[/destacate]This is not just a lie. Its aim was to make human beings distrust God and act against his will. Centuries later, Jesus identified Satan as the “father of lies”.
Therefore, lying is not just a neutral tool. The Bible presents it as part of a pattern of deception that opposes God’s truth.
The New Testament offers examples that are even closer to our everyday problems, in which people seek to achieve their goals by lying.
In Acts 5 we find Ananias and Sapphira.
They sold a piece of property and handed over part of the money, but led others to believe they had handed over the full amount. Peter asks Ananias, “Why has Satan filled your heart to the point where you have lied to the Holy Spirit?”
The crucial point here is that no one was forcing them to hand over all the money. They could have offered just a portion, but they wanted to be recognised for a generosity they had not actually shown. Their sin also lay in appearances.
They wanted others to think of them in a way that was not true.
Do we not see a very real danger here today? We can do the same with our professional image, family life, and even spiritual life. We can build up a façade and ask others to help us maintain it.
However, God does not only look at what we show. He looks at the truth behind the façade; he looks at our hearts.
The case of Peter reveals another dimension. While Jesus was being beaten and insulted in the praetorium, Peter stood in the courtyard and said: “I do not know the man” (Matthew 26:72). Yet he did know him.
[destacate]Our mistakes do not have to become our identity[/destacate]He had walked with him, listened to his teachings, and said he was willing to die for his master, but he was afraid.
Peter’s lie did not stem from a desire for money or a wish to harm Jesus. It stemmed from weakness and fear. That is why his story is so human.
We may find ourselves in similar situations, saying something untrue because we are afraid of the consequences: because we fear losing our job; because we do not want to admit a mistake; or because we are worried about what others might think.
Peter fell, but his story did not end with that lie. He wept bitterly, repented, and Christ restored him.
This gives us an important hope: our mistakes do not have to become our identity.
The truth does not mean that we have to tell everyone everything. Christians have a right to privacy and must be prudent.
We can say: “I am not authorised to speak on that matter. I would prefer not to answer. I cannot speak to you right now. We'll talk another time”.
That is very different from deliberately stating something false.
Remaining silent is not lying.
[destacate]The truth does not mean that we have to tell everyone everything, Christians have a right to privacy and must be prudent[/destacate]Being prudent is not lying.
Protecting confidential information is not lying.
The moral issue arises when we try to make someone believe something that we know to be false.
Paul adds an essential element: we must speak “the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15).
Sincerity must not turn into cruelty.
Sometimes it seems that Christian principles belong only to the church, prayer, or family life, but a Christian does not leave their faith at the office door. They bring it to meetings, contracts, negotiations, emails, conversations with employees, and telephone calls.
[destacate]A Christian does not leave their faith at the office door. They bring it to meetings, contracts, negotiations, emails, conversations with employees, and telephone calls[/destacate]That is why professional integrity and spiritual life cannot be separated.
If we lie to avoid a client, distort information to gain an advantage or use an employee to spread falsehoods, our professional conduct also reflects what we believe.
I hope that the next time someone says, “It’s for you,” and the automatic response is “Tell them I’m not here”, we can pause for a moment and face that decision without making someone else an accomplice to our lie, and say, “Tell them I can’t take the call right now”.
It’s a difference of just a few words, but behind those words lies a difference in principles.
One response protects our schedule. The other protects our integrity.
“Put away lying, and speak the truth, each one to his neighbour” (Ephesians 4:25).
This article was produced for the Líderes Empresariales section of Protestante Digital, an initiative of the Gospel, Economy and Business (Tres-E) group in Spain.
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