A word that holds
Why a lie begins with a joke
John Climacus writes about lying briefly and sharply. As iron and flint produce a spark, so much talk and joking produce a lie. That is why lying comes right after silence: whoever speaks less has fewer chances to lie. The mother of the lie is hypocrisy.
John distinguishes lies by their weight. It is one thing to lie from fear of punishment, another to lie for no reason at all; one thing for amusement, another to harm someone. But he considers none of them small. Today they look harmless: you embellish a story to make it more interesting, you say “I’m swamped” to avoid a conversation, you promise a child what you know you will not keep, at work you say what is expected instead of what is. And the quietest of all: you give a hard thing a gentle name for yourself.
The first step is to see them. For one week write down every lie, even the small ones, without judging. You will see whom you lie to, when and why. Then remove the source: less talk, and no entertaining the company with inventions. Promise less, and keep everything. If you are not sure, say “I’ll try” and nothing more. And when you catch yourself in a lie, go back and correct it: “That wasn’t true, here is how it is.” After a few such returns, the tongue begins to stop by itself.
Hardest of all is not to lie to yourself. Not “I’m unwinding”, but “I drink too much”. Not “I work a lot”, but “I’m running away from home”. Until a thing is called by its real name, it cannot be repaired.
A lie is the disappearance of love.
The traps are familiar. The first is the “kind lie”: the liar excuses himself by circumstances and calls the ruin of the soul a good deed. John allows rare exceptions only to those wholly purified, with fear and for a grave reason. For everyone else the rule is simple: do not lie. The second is the joke as an excuse, because a lie for a laugh is still a lie. The third is truth as a knife. Honesty is not a licence for harshness. Truth is spoken gently and at the right time.
The sign that you have climbed: your word holds. When you say something, people do not need to check. The children know you will come if you said you would. John says whoever has climbed this rung has gained the root of the virtues.
The question remains: what do you do on the days when you feel like nothing at all, not truth, not work, not anything?
N. Ž.