The Alelyon (one another) passages in the New Testament:

Do not lie to each other but speak the truth to each other in love.

(Ephesians 4:14, 25; Colossians 3:9)

On the eve of his crucifixion, Jesus ends up in a philosophical debate with, appropriately enough, a politician, this one named Pontius Pilate. In the midst of their discussion, Pilate – a supremely jaded individual who probably didn’t want a real answer – asks the Messiah one of the most profound and fundamental questions in history, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). How much hay we could make if I hadn’t made an absolute promise to myself to avoid political issues at all costs, however tempted I might be to wade into those perilous waters.

Well, even if we’re going to avoid commenting on current events, I think Jesus would want us to ask him that very question that Pilate so cynically posed, especially in light of Paul’s double admonition to speak truth and avoid lying. The challenges here are many: It is important to know the content and the connection. What is Scripture’s primary concern when it comes to lying, especially in our relationships? What, in the broad range of the meaning of “truth” is most important for us as brothers and sisters in Christ? And how do the negative and positive sides of the matter – the don’t lie and the do tell the truth – define and support each other?

Let’s use Pilate’s question as our starting point: What is truth? To ask about truth reveals either a genuine interest in finding an answer to the inquiry, or a cynical presupposition that there is no real answer to it. Another way to put this is in terms of the ongoing conflict between a claim that there is objective, absolute reality and the modern clichés of subjectivism and relativism that say things like all versions of what is true are equally valid (except for any that believe in objective and absolute truth); that most assertions of truth are matters of opinion; that what is true is conditioned on changing cultural and social preferences; or that true things are only what we can scientifically verify.

And, although Scripture is not confused about the issue of truth, we Christians are not immune to the corrosive influences of relativistic thinking on faith and practice. Many believers fall prey to a triple whammy about truth: First, that commandments might have been reasonable for previous generations (or maybe unreasonable, but what doe that matter), but that we now “know better” (no absolute truth). Second, that our emotions are a true guide to determining what is true (no objective truth). Third, that each individual is equally and independently able to discern what is right for him or herself for every issue at any moment of life (no challenge to the imperial self). These pitfalls represent the beliefs of a substantial segment of Christians, and not just the younger ones.

Does Jesus’ conversation with Pilate bring us any light on the issue of truth? The context of Pilate’s inquiry is telling. Chapter 18 of John’s Gospel is at the heart of answering Pilate’s question, however cynically he asked it. The is all about identifying and confessing who Jesus is – about knowing and believing and being able to articulate what is true about him. It is especially important to recognize him as king and Messiah. The narrative includes the widest variety of responses to Jesus’ claims: ignorance, hostility, belief in some circumstances but failing faith in others. So the first thing to say about what is true is the most obvious truth of all:

Pilate’s question from John 18 is an important link in our understanding what Paul means in Ephesians and Colossians when he counsels us to be truthful with each other. I think it’s pretty common to interpret “speaking the truth in love” as instructing us how to say the hard things of discipleship with that spoon full of sugar that makes the medicine go down. If you have to point out someone’s character flaws, shortcomings in ministry, or ways they can grow in the Lord, you should do it as inoffensively and graciously as possible. No doubt that’s a small part of how we read the verses, but it can’t be the main or only way. If it were, I (and maybe some others of us) would be prone to simply becoming a critic – a purveyor of mere opinion and personal preference; a relational wrecking ball, rather than a loving encourager of a godly life.

So the first big truth that Scripture would encourage us to tell is the great revelation about who God is and what he’s done. To speak what is true is primarily about declaring what and who is good, and above all the gospel. This sounds almost embarrassingly obvious, and yet I wonder if I am anything more than sporadic in my truth-speaking. I would not want to catalogue my mundane, trivial, complaining, silly verbal offerings lest I find out how seldom my focus is on God’s kingdom.

We might find immediate reactions rising up to the idea of importing more God-truth language into our days. Maybe it seems artificial or awkward – a kind of wooden feel to the whole enterprise. Of course any practice feels somewhat bumbling when we aren’t used to doing it – just ask any man who has undertaken measures to be more affectionate to his wife.  And don’t let me use the excuse that I am afraid of becoming super-spiritual; that’s red herring land which I am in no danger of approaching. Now can we talk about those Wolverines or that great restaurant that just opened downtown?

If I could replace one complaint, one cynical observation, one jocularity, or even one offhand remark with a reflection on the Father’s goodness, with a recollection of what the Spirit said to me this morning, with an encouragement about an answered prayer, with a mention of something upbuilding that I see in you or a need that I see in me, then I might begin to lay a foundation that allows me to speak other truths in love. To make such a transformative move requires an ongoing awareness of God’s presence, his word, his conviction, and his vision. But it also means that we believe that he is present, speaking, convicting, loving, and leading us.

Not believing, listening to, speaking about the Spirit’s life in and around us is evidence that 1.) we aren’t really paying that much attention to the Lord; 2.) there are probably lies that we tell ourselves and each other; and/or 3.) we are defaulting to the easy path of discontent, kretching and kvetching, cheap humor, and wishing that life could be different and better. If we only had, or could do, or might be, or if someone else would …  Is it laziness, unbelief, a slice of Pilate’s cynicism? Probably some of all these things, and I’m sure I’ve left out others. Joanne (my wife) and I have marveled at this tendency in our own lives (when we’re most honest) or in others’ to prefer a negative perspective on existence.

We have begun pretty generally where all truth begins, which is in Jesus Christ who is Word and Truth, and in his gospel, which is the perfect representation of God’s reality meeting ours. It’s a beginning that has barely scratched the surface of what is true and what is false and how to live according to the one and to expose and overcome the other. And all of that done in love.

I’m guessing that the Word has a bit more to say on the subject, so back we’ll return next time. Meanwhile, I am reminded of the psalmist’s prayer: Lord, set a guard over my mouth and a watch over the door of my lips.