The Spiritual Gift of Integrity

February 12, 2023
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Matthew 5:33-37[1]

In our world today, integrity seems hard to find. Saying what you mean, letting your yes mean yes and your no mean no, is a virtue that is becoming more rare. The idea that “the end justifies the means” is an acceptable school of thought for many. We see it when sales people over-promise and under-deliver. We see it when business executives hide reports of pollution or toxic spills in order to keep their profits from being used to fund clean-up. We even see it in churches who post signs saying “All are welcome” yet make it clear - through side glances and shunning - that some people really are not welcome.

This is not a new problem. All the way back in the time of Moses we can read the call to live according to the values claimed by a people. “See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity.”[2] Live according to the commandments, decrees, and ordinances, and your virtuous life will be rewarded. God will bless you and your descendants if you observe the law. But turn away, follow other gods and serve your own interests, and you shall not live long. Even so long ago we hear the prayer in Psalm 7, “Judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness and according to the integrity that is in me.”[3]

Integrity means “firm adherence to a code of especially moral or artistic values.”[4] A contributor to Forbes magazine once wrote, “Integrity means doing the right thing at all times and in all circumstances, whether or not anyone is watching. It takes having the courage to do the right thing, no matter what the consequences will be. Building a reputation of integrity takes years, but it takes only a second to lose, so never allow yourself to ever do anything that would damage your integrity.”[5]

Another definition is offered by Barbara Killinger, an author and clinical psychologist in Toronto who specialized in workaholism. In a book she wrote on integrity, she said, “Integrity is a personal choice, an uncompromising and predictably consistent commitment to honour (sic) moral, ethical, spiritual, and artistic values and principles.”[6] We judge the integrity of others to the extent that they act according to the values, beliefs, and principles they claim to hold.

From an ethical perspective, an individual is said to possess the virtue of integrity if that person’s actions are based upon an internally consistent framework of principles. “You’ve got to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything” is the line in a country song by Aaron Tippin.[7]

Yet what we stand for should also conform to reality. We must be willing to adjust our principles when they are proven to be inconsistent. If what I believe to be true is shown to be false, I must try to incorporate the truth into my internal framework. This is where our media and political systems fail us, by allowing false equivalencies to rule the day. False equivalencies give plausibility to each side even if one side is provably wrong. False equivalencies encourage one to mislead in order to maintain a narrative, even when it has been proven to be wrong.

As Christians, we adhere to the importance of loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves. And yet those values are not always reflected in how we live our day-to-day lives. As Jesus reflected on the world around him, he saw a great lack of integrity from the leaders of the people. Those charged with teaching and keeping the laws would make bold promises, swearing by heaven, earth, or Jerusalem, and then continue to lie, cheat, and steal. The laws of Moses, meant to free the people to live together in society came to be used to oppress the poor and enforce power and control over the people.

Judaism had developed a system of oaths and vows to guarantee that at least some words would be especially true. In both the Gentile and Jewish worlds, an oath invoked God to guarantee the truth of what was said, or to punish the one taking the oath if it was not true.

“You have heard that it was said…” proclaimed Jesus, “But I say to you… Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No.’”[8] Your integrity matters. Doing what you say you will do matters. Jesus paraphrases the Old Testament teaching about oaths, then commands that his followers take no oaths at all. Jesus sought to abolish the distinction between words that must be true and those that must not, between words one is compelled to stand behind and those one must not, and called for all speech to be truthful. I say that there must be truthfulness in all that we say.

The importance of integrity can be seen in the final days of Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem. The act that set the ruling priesthood against him came when he took up a whip and angrily drove the money lenders and merchants from the grounds of the Temple. By profiteering from pilgrims coming to worship, they had corrupted the integrity of the Temple as a holy place.[9] Later, he preached a lengthy sermon condemning the Pharisees and teachers of the law as hypocrites, claiming that they and their followers obeyed the narrow letter of the law on the outside while they were corrupt, greedy, self-indulgent, and spiritually dead on the inside.[10]

For Christians, integrity and faithfulness is about more than simply following all the rules. It is about doing the work of the heart, of living up to the values we claim even when it’s hard. It is embracing the challenge to reflect God’s grace, God’s goodness, and God’s integrity in what we say and do. What Jesus was saying is that following the law is easy, but it does not transform. Living with a God-formed integrity of heart, speech, and action is what truly makes a difference in people’s lives.

Jesus calls us to have integrity in how we live. There are so many ways we separate ourselves in this world – nations war against nations; political parties slander and undermine each other; religions seek to kill one another’s followers; wealthy and poor seek to protect themselves from each other. The destruction brought about by this division is devastating. If we can begin to find our common humanity within, and begin to live, from a Christ-like heart, perhaps we can begin to heal some of the damage we have done.

Christ’s challenge is to refuse to allow ourselves to live only according to the low standard of law, but to go beyond it to living from the heart – serving, seeking justice, offering welcome and compassion, protecting the vulnerable, and preserving our rich ecological heritage on the planet. There is no question, though, that to adopt Christ’s heart-driven life can be painful and difficult. It will, however, also open the doors to life for us and others. Integrity is a spiritual gift, and through it the Spirit can empower us to change ourselves and the world.

When we allow God to capture our hearts with love, when we allow God to grow our hearts, when we live in a way consistent with Christ’s love for God and others, and allow that to guide our speech and actions – then we become those who make a healing, restoring impact on the world around us. We will find, and bring to others, fullness of life, a deeper connectedness, and a more gracious community.

Do not be lead astray. “Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying and holding fast to the Lord; for that means life to you and length of days.” Live a life of integrity, and the world will be transformed.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Deuteronomy 30:15.

[3] Psalm 7:8.

[4] Webster’s Dictionary online, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/integrity.

[5] Amy Rees Anderson, “Success Will Come and Go, But Integrity Is Forever” November 28, 2012, online: https://www.forbes.com/.

[6] Killinger, Barbara, Integrity: Doing the Right Thing for the Right Reason. McGill-Queen's University Press, 2010, P.12.

[7] Aaron Tippin, “You’ve God to Stand for Something” on You've Got to Stand for Something, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 1990.

[8] Matthew 5:33-37, selected.

[9] See: Matthew 21:12-13.

[10] See: Matthew 23:1-39.

Stand Firm

August 22, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18; Ephesians6:10-20[1]

Someone posted this message yesterday on the Crystal Lake community Facebook group:

I would like to share this story that my son told me when he came home from the Crystal Lake Jewels last nigh (sic):

My son was helping out a neighbor who is going thru a hard time, she received her SNAP money yesterday and was going to walk to Jewel, it is over an hour walk, so my son offered to drive her, well at the checkout she overspent and did not have enough money to pay for all the items so my son helped her put a few things aside(he had no money on him)and they left the store, a few seconds later a man walked out and called to them and said he saw what happened and purchased those items for her. My son said he literally cried because of this man's kindness and also knowing what this poor women had been thru.

That is a beautiful story of kindness and how even a small act can make a big impact, something any of us could do. It is good that we can, at times, look to our neighbors for help. The kindness of strangers can be a blessing. And yet, I wonder, wouldn’t it be great if we would create a society in which no one goes hungry, no one comes up short at the grocery store. Couldn’t we make a world in which no one has to choose between paying for medicine, the electric bill, or gas for the car?

We have been at war for twenty years. Al-Qaeda was broken up in Afghanistan, but that only took a couple of years. We did manage to find Bin Laden, but that was ten years ago. As the Afghan Army melts away, and the Taliban retake control, we’re left wondering, was it worth it? Are we safe from terrorism? Will the Afghan people be better off this time, especially the women and children?

I have great respect for those who have served, who have fought to protect us and have tried to make the world a safer place in which to live. But I wonder if a trillion dollars spent on the machinery of death in the graveyard of empires could have been spent to end hunger here at home. As our fear of foreign terrorists wanes, and our fear of home-grown violent extremism grows, could we take our energy that has been for so long focused on war and turn it toward building well-being?

We love to fight. Human history seems to be mostly a record of battles won or lost; the fate of nations decided on the battlefield. The imagery of war and warriors is infused into our cultures. Sports arenas resemble the Roman colosseum and athletes resemble gladiators. Politicians fight for their side and view the other party as enemies bent on destroying the republic. Even our effort to stop the spread of the coronavirus is a battle pitting healthcare workers like frontline soldiers against the scourge of COVID.

The Bible, too, is filled with violent imagery. Even when the stories are not about actual battles, violence and death permeate the text. A story about a vineyard turns on the violence of the workers who murder the son of the landowner in hopes of inheriting the vineyard for themselves. Yet the cry for peace and justice persists throughout the text as well. The ancient concept of shalom, the world as God intends, with justice, righteousness, peace, and harmony, green pastures, and a land flowing with milk and honey; that imagery is there as well.

The passage we read from Ephesians deliberately employs the language of the warrior with a fervent exhortation to be clothed and equipped with the tools and armor used to wage war. This text evokes an epic battle against spiritual forces bent on our destruction. Its purpose is to prepare us to become active participants in the struggle against the rulers, authorities, and cosmic powers of darkness. But, more importantly, it is not a sword and shield made of steel that we are to wield in this battle. This battle is not with flesh and blood, but with forces bigger than any human adversary.

We are living through and existential crisis, or really more than one. An existential crisis is a moment when what is at stake is existence itself. Will our republic survive the division between our political parties? Will our society make it through multiple waves of coronavirus variants? Will the planet warm and the climate change to the point that continued human survival is threatened?

Though the crisis faced by the early Christians is not the same that we face, we have some guidance from Paul and others that can help us navigate our own struggles. And we must remember that this guidance was not for personal spiritual growth. Some have interpreted Ephesians as an individual expression of faith. Instead, as the Rev. Dr. Cheryl Lindsay writes, “this letter was not originally written for personal devotion but for community formation. This was a letter to a people not a person.”[2] The Christian life is life in community and we are meant to work together, by the power of the Holy Spirit at work within all of us, to bring about shalom, the kin-dom of God.

We must fasten the belt of truth around our waist. Many of our political disagreements come from a small group of people spreading misinformation to a large audience. Entertainment and opinion packaged to look like news poisons our discourse and leads us to think that our political adversaries are not only wrong but evil. Yet the truth is out there to be found. It might take some work to find it, however. Check your sources. Look for more than one account of an event. Follow a story through to its conclusion, particularly when something sensational seems to have evaporated.

“Put on the breastplate of righteousness.” Do what is right, not only what is expedient. Work for right relationships between people. Show kindness, in the grocery store and in the business negotiation. Even when others “get away with it,” don’t. Do what is right, even when it costs you. Even if no one is looking, God is watching, and “all that you have is your soul.”[3] Worry as much about protecting others as you do about protecting yourself. Put a mask on, even if you’re vaccinated, even if you don’t feel sick, because you care about others and don’t want them to catch a deadly disease.

Wear the shoes of peace. Wear shoes that will allow you to stand up for what is right without stomping on what is wrong. Walk away when you feel the anger rising within. Walk quietly in tender moments. Walk in the shoes of those who have to walk an hour to get to the store, and those who are going through a hard time. Wear the shoes that will give you compassion for those in need, and bring peace and the good news of forgiveness and love wherever you go.

Take the shield of faith, the faith that we are not alone, that Emmanuel is God-with-us. Trust in God to enter the struggle with you, and to keep the mission going even when you cannot. Do what you can to make the world better, and trust that we are with you, working alongside you. Have faith that we can survive the crises we face if we work together to overcome the cosmic forces of doom.

The helmet of salvation gives us the confidence that even if we don’t get there, even if the vision of a better, safer, healthier world is not achieved when we come to our end, all is not lost. We will never be given over to the powers of evil, but will always be held close to the one who so loves the world.

Finally, take the sword, the word of God, which is love, grace, and hope. Use the sword of God’s shalom to cut down the barricades of fear, bitterness, and resignation. Lay that sword across the chasm of division so that we may join as one community, one family with others and together triumph over the “the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil.” Stand firm in prayer, in common cause, and in faith.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] The Rev. Dr. Cheryl A. Lindsay, “Sermon Seeds: Prayer and Protection” online at: https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-prayer-and-protection/.

[3] Tracy Chapman, 1988.

Show Me the Scars

April 11, 2021
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 John 1:1-4; John 20:19-31[1]

Have you ever been not believed? “No, really. I saw it. It was right there!” It’s even worse when the doubt is delivered in a condescending tone. “Yeah? Suuure. Oh, I believe you.” When the other disciples told Thomas “We have seen the Lord,” they must have been hurt when he said, “Unless I see… I will not believe.” This was one of their own brothers, one who had lived and travelled and experienced the living Jesus right along with them. Why wouldn’t he believe them?

It is easy for us to impose our twenty-first century scientific worldview on the situation and defend Thomas. After all, we are trained to be skeptical, to test and verify what we hear. Don’t trust anything you read on the internet, right? Thomas is suspicious. He didn’t experience it himself, so he needs to see in order to believe. That’s understandable. How can he know it is really Jesus if he doesn’t see the wounds?

Sometimes wounds are a tool of conveying identity or experience. Scars have a tale to tell – “I’ve been there.” We can learn a lot from people who carry the scars of their experiences. Want to know what combat is really like? Ask a wounded veteran. Want to know what prison is like? Talk with an ex-con. Want to know what to expect from your upcoming surgery? Ask your neighbor who has been through it. “We’re you there when they crucified my Lord?” Show me the scars, Jesus, and I’ll know it’s really you.

When I was a student at the Chicago Theological Seminary, we had a youth program called DEPTH. Yes, we brought young people to the seminary for a weekend event. The word was an acronym. The “P” stood for “Partner”; an event where we would bring two different youth groups together for a weekend of learning and service together. The two groups would often be from different contexts – one suburban, Caucasian, the other urban and African-American or Latino.

One weekend in particular we invited guest speakers, one of whom was a former gang member and CeaseFire[2] outreach worker. CeaseFire was an anti-violence program which would attempt to mitigate conflict on the street before it turned violent. These people were often former gang members, who used their street credibility as an inroad to show community members better ways of communicating with each other and how to resolve conflicts peacefully.

When our guest spoke about his experiences, and why he had joined the gang, the room grew silent. He spoke about a deep need for belonging, to be part of something bigger than himself, and to be important and respected in a world where the color of his skin, his accent, and the neighborhood he was from labeled him as less than others. He had lived that life, nearly died from it, and finally escaped from it. As he spoke, you knew that TRUTH was being spoken. He had the scars to prove it. The kids in the room who had been showing off and acting tough were now hanging on his every word, and we had to start dinner an hour late.

This man, now in his thirties, had learned conflict-resolution skills, understood the legal and penal system from the inside, and had a way of helping kids see the inherent value in themselves. Despite all the strikes against him, despite all the negativity, racism, and fear directed at him, he had found a way to respect himself, and respect others, to value life more than money, peace more than power, love more than hatred. “I was a gangster;” he said, “now, I’m a person.”

Must we see in order to believe? Is seeing truly believing? Are we prisoners of our senses, distrusting and rejecting whatever we cannot see, touch, taste, smell, or hear? Thomas had seen. He was there when Jesus gave sight to the blind, fed the five-thousand, and healed the lepers; and, significantly, so had the disciples who bring him the news of the resurrection. Does he not trust even his friends? They have lived through the same earth-shattering experience of the arrest and crucifixion of their master, and yet Thomas cannot bring himself to trust in their word. And this is where the community of believers is threatened from the very start.

Has something happened between Thomas and the other disciples? There is no mention of a falling-out in the Gospels. But for some reason, Thomas doubts them. This is strange for a community built on love and trust. Thomas challenges the credibility of the other disciples. Maybe it was the betrayal by Judas that had shaken his faith in his friends.

Now, you won’t trust someone you think is a liar or a hypocrite. This may be part of our current dilemma in politics and the news media. We’re pretty sure the politicians and talk-show hosts are all liars and hypocrites, or at least the other side is, and so we trust no one who doesn’t reinforce our pre-conceived ideas. Sometimes we listen to what sounds good so much that we forget that we don’t know these people or their true motivations. We might fall into the trap of thinking that we can trust people whose job isn’t to tell us the truth as much as it is to tell us what we want to hear.

But that wasn’t the dilemma for Thomas. These were fellow disciples; the people Thomas probably knew better than anyone else. Did he think they were liars or hypocrites? Was their word not good enough for him? What more proof did he need?

It may be that there is no solid data, no verifiable proof or empirical evidence that will convince us to believe something we’ve always denied. Sometimes it’s easier to live with a lie; the truth can be too painful, especially if it reveals our sins and shortcomings, our failures and foolishness. Thomas might have thought, if Jesus is really alive, then I was wrong to flee, to abandon him, to give up. Even worse, he’ll know what I’ve done.

We don’t get to see the scars or touch the wounds. And yet, if we are to move from death to life, we must have some faith. There is a point when we must stop distrusting one another simply because we don’t like what we hear. We must find a way to trust the motivations of the ones who love us, who know us best, and who want us to grow toward health and wholeness.

It is possible to believe in God, to believe in the risen Christ, and to carry on the work of the Church without proof. Even if our own faith is shaky, even if we don’t have the same conviction as our fellow beloved disciples, we can try to trust in them. If the Church is a community based on love and trust, then we really do have to trust, and love, one another. Especially when we hear the impossible, “We have seen the Lord.”

God, we find ourselves locked away, unable to love and trust. Come into our presence. Speak your words of life into our hearts. Say to us once again, “Do not doubt but believe.” Help us to know the risen Christ. Show us his face reflected in those around us. May we, who have not seen, come to believe and be blessed.  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] CeaseFire was an anti-violence program and initiative of the Chicago Project for Violence Prevention aimed at reducing street violence by using outreach workers to interrupt potentially violent situations. It ended in 2015.

Words Can Never Capture It

April 4, 2021 – Easter Sunday
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Mark 16:1-8[1]

If there is one event that is crucial to the Christian faith, it is the Resurrection of Jesus. Yet the four texts which tell the story do not agree on the details. Fear not, however, for the truth is much greater than the words that tell the tale.

The four Gospels were each composed at a different time and place. Mark was written first, probably in the late 60s, the zero-sixties, that is. Luke and Matthew were written within a year or two of each other near the end of the first century. Each of them contains material from Mark’s Gospel and a second common source called the Q-source, yet each has original material not found elsewhere. John was written last, and in a very different style.

If we were to read these stories, one after the other, we would easily notice the differences. Who went to the tomb at dawn on the first day of the week? Mark says it was Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome. Luke tells us it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who had come with Jesus from Galilee. He also tells us that Peter took a look in the empty tomb as well. Matthew mentions Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. And John simply says that Mary Magdalene came to the tomb while it was still dark. Her report sent Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, racing for the tomb to look inside.

Whom did the women meet at the tomb? Mark says the herald of the resurrection was a young man, dressed in a white robe. Luke says it was two men in dazzling clothes. Matthew tells of a great earthquake and an angel of the Lord whose appearance was like lightning and whose clothing was white as snow. And, on the way to tell the disciples, the women were greeted by Jesus himself! And John has no one waiting at the tomb at first. Only after Simon Peter and the other disciple have come and gone does Mary Magdalene see two angels in white sitting in the tomb, and Jesus, whom she mistook for a gardener.

Where did the risen Christ appear to the disciples? Mark does not record an appearance, but says only that he has gone ahead to Galilee. In Luke, Jesus first appears on the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus, though Cleopas and Simon don’t recognize him until he breaks the bread and gives it to them. Then, back in Jerusalem, he appears to all the disciples. He leads them to Bethany, where he ascends into heaven. Matthew has Jesus appear to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary as they run to tell the disciples. Then the eleven gather to worship Jesus on a mountain in Galilee. In John, Mary Magdalene finds him standing near the tomb. That evening he appears to the disciples in a house, presumably in Jerusalem, and again a week later when the doubting Thomas sees him and believes. Finally, Jesus shows himself again by the Sea of Tiberias in Galilee.

Now, I haven’t told you all of these things in order to shake your faith or to make you doubt the resurrection. Indeed, there is no question that something happened that morning which had incredible power. As Episcopal bishop John Shelby Spong writes, “Its power was sufficient to reconstitute a scattered and demoralized band of disciples. Its reality was profound enough to turn a denying Peter into a witnessing and martyred Peter, and to turn disciples who fled for their lives into heroes willing to die for their Lord.”[2] I want you to consider that the words we read can only point to the experience, but can never capture it.

The words came later. A life-altering experience takes time to process. Mark tells us that the women said nothing to anyone, at least at first. How can you put such an epiphany into human speech? Maybe that’s why the first writings about Jesus came many years later. Imagine trying to put into words the most amazing experience of your life, all that led up to it, and all that it means and might mean.

Bishop Spong writes that the words used to describe the resurrection are inadequate. “The power of Easter is both real and eternal, but the words used by human beings to narrate truth can themselves only point to that truth. They can never capture it.”[3] Words, however imperfect, are our best means of sharing the truth of the resurrection, “a truth that is never captured in mere words but a truth that is real, a truth that when experienced erupts within us in expanding ways, calling us simultaneously, deeper and deeper into life and, not coincidentally, deeper and deeper into God.”[4]

And so, we read and hear the scriptures, however limited and imperfect, however distant from us in time and culture, because they point to Easter. The words written in the Gospels are the gateway though which we enter the experience of Mary and Peter and all the others, the experience of knowing God in the life of a human being, the experience of burying Jesus and seeing him alive again, the experience that lies at the heart of Christian faith and life.

What do the words tell us? Early in the morning, the women went to the tomb. The stone had been rolled back. Mary stood weeping. Someone spoke. Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified, has been raised. The words of the women seemed an idle tale, yet Mary was firm, “I have seen the Lord.”[5] Thomas doubted, but saw, and believed, “My Lord and my God!”[6]

As the words were found and spoken, as the story began to be told, the power of that moment was revealed in the transformation of those who had witnessed the resurrected Christ. A small group of disciples, whose leader was brutally executed as a rebel bandit, who betrayed, denied, and fled, were convinced that they had seen Jesus, not as a ghost, but alive, became courageous, proclaimed Jesus as Lord in the face of imprisonment and death, and spread the good news of Jesus Christ to all nations. Saul, the zealot famous for persecuting the followers, received the grace of God, and became Paul the greatest evangelist. What happened on Easter is more than any words could hope to express. “Peace be with you.”[7] “Receive the Holy Spirit.”[8] “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”[9]  Amen.

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[1] The scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] John Shelby Spong, Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism: A Bishop Rethinks the Meaning of Scripture (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991), p. 223.

[3] Ibid, p. 225.

[4] Ibid.

[5] John 20:18.

[6] John 20:28.

[7] John 20:19.

[8] John 20:22.

[9] Matthew 28:20.

Faithful Witness

October 27, 2019
St. John’s United Church of Christ, Union, Illinois

Exodus 20:2, 16; Matthew 15:10-20

In Exodus, the Hebrew people, set free from the Egyptians, begin to establish a new culture, and discover their identity as God’s people. Having set the people free, God gives them the means to remain free. The law, beginning with the Ten Commandments, sets this people apart as the people of God – the Lord God who brought them out of slavery to freedom. And the people of God worship and honor God by obeying God’s laws.

The law is not a punishment, a burden, or an obstacle to freedom. True freedom requires responsibility. Freedom without responsibility, without limits, is anarchy. And anarchy is the mob rule, freedom for the strong and the powerful, but slavery for the weak and defenseless.

In order to be a free people, we must be at peace with one another, able to trust one another, responsible for the well-being of one another. And God, by giving the commandments, by setting the boundaries, has provided the means for the people to remain free. If the people worship God, resist temptation, and take responsibility for one another, they will prosper and remain a free people. God fulfills the promise made earlier in Exodus: “I will take you as my people, and I will be your God.”[1]

The commandment to not bear false witness is a particular command that protects society by creating a space for truth to be told. In ancient Israel, witnesses to a crime – who incidentally also brought the charges – had to testify before a court of elders. At least two witnesses were required, as stated in Deuteronomy: “Only on the evidence of two or three witnesses shall a charge be sustained.”[2] If a witness was found to be lying, the punishment was the same as that given to the accused. This was when “an eye for an eye” was the rule of law. If one was accused of a crime that was punishable by death, the lying witness would have been put to death. This harsh reality ensured that the court of elders was a place where truth would be told.

Truth, indivisible from trust, is the foundation of community. The Old Testament scholar and theologian Walter Brueggemann says this commandment is “a recognition that community life is not possible unless there is an arena in which there is public confidence that social reality will be reliably described and reported.”[3] In order for society to function, there must be a place and time where we can trust that the truth will be told.

The commandment that we shall not bear false witness gets at the heart of our capacity to ruin ourselves and others by lies and deceit. Another theologian, the Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong, once wrote: “The capacity to speak… is the primary way through which we human beings express ourselves, and nothing reveals more deeply the biblical insight into the sinfulness and brokenness of human life than our verbal means of self-expression.”[4] Speech can express both truth and falsehood.

Our words are powerful. They can do tremendous good – think of the words written by Lincoln in The Emancipation Proclamation. But our words can also do tremendous harm. Mein Kampf led to the rise of Nazism in Germany. The thoughts in our minds and the feelings in our hearts come forth in our words, and they make an impact on the world around us.

In the Gospel According to Matthew, we hear about the power of our words to do harm. “Then [Jesus] called the crowd to him and said to them, ‘Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles… What comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person.’”[5]

Bearing false witness means to lie, to give false testimony, to mislead. It is speaking with the intent to deceive. Another form of lying – slander and gossip – also bear false witness, leading us to believe in stories that are fiction born in the heart of those who would harm. False witness breaks our relationships with others, and damages our integrity.

There is a story that tells of a man who spread gossip and lies about a neighbor. When she heard the stories, the victim confronted her accuser with the truth. The man apologized and asked if there was anything that he could do to right the terrible wrong that he had done. The woman walked into the bedroom and took a feather pillow from the bed. Taking out a knife, she cut open the pillow, and then, going to a window on the second floor, dumped the feathers into the breeze so they blew in every direction. “Yes,” she said. “There is something you can do. You can go out now and gather up all of those feathers and put them back inside this pillow.” The man protested, “That is impossible. I could never recover each of those tiny feathers.” “Yes, it is impossible,” the woman agreed. “It is just as impossible as it is for you to take back all the hurt and the pain that your malicious rumor and lies have caused to me. You cannot recover the suspicion that you have sown. The damage to my character can never be undone.”[6]

When we bear false witness against our neighbor, we deny our responsibility for our neighbor, we deny our duty to God, and we destroy ourselves as we become untrustworthy. The trust that holds the community together is broken, and without trust, we can no longer be a people. Bearing false witness brings us into the state of sin: separated from God, separated from one another, and separated from our own integrity.

We must do more than not lie. We must face the challenge of being witnesses to truth, creating a society where truth can be told, where our words are reliable, where we can trust one another. Jesus spoke in the Sermon on the Mount about the Ten Commandments. “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.’ But I say to you, do not swear at all… Let your word be ‘Yes, Yes’ or ‘No, No’; anything more than this comes from evil.”[7] Jesus requires a level of truthfulness from his disciples that goes beyond taking an oath not to lie. It is a life of truth; a life lived with faithfulness toward God and responsibility toward others. The followers of Jesus were to be trustworthy, true, and faithful, a community of God’s people bound, not by oaths, but by love, trust, and responsibility for one another.

As Christians, we are challenged to do more than not bear false witness. We have a special call to be faithful witnesses. We are the people who witness to the work and words of Jesus Christ. We are the evangelists who are tasked with sharing the good news.

Evangelism is a word that tends to make us cringe. When I hear that word, I usually think of people who want to convert me to Christianity – at least their version of it – and my blood-pressure rises. But I’m not talking about proselytizing. I’m not talking about standing on a street corner shouting that judgment day is coming and we’re all going to hell unless we believe on Jesus. I’m talking about the evangelism of speaking our truth, the truth of how God is moving in us, and through us, and around us.

Now, let me stop to say that we must take care that we do not fall into the trap of thinking that our view of reality, of truth, of faith, of God, of what it means to be Christian, is the only way of seeing things. We don’t have a universal perspective. Bishop Spong warns us:

Words can point to God, but words can never capture God. Creeds can be formed to contain truths but creeds can never be formed that will exhaust the truth. God is bigger than the human frame of reference which tries to talk about him. God is bigger than any of the words of any human being about [her]. No matter how hallowed by the ages, no matter how thin or how gilt-edged the pages which we say contain the holy words, God is beyond the understanding of the Bible. God is beyond the understanding of our holy traditions, beyond the creeds, beyond the Church itself. No human system of thought can ever be ultimate. God, alone, is ultimate. Anything less than God will be destructive the minute we elevate it to the level of ultimacy.[8]

As witnesses to Jesus, we are evangelists. However, the evangelism I’m talking about does not make the claim that any of us hold the absolute truth for all time. God is, after all, still speaking. The evangelism that I’m talking about means being a faithful witness to the living Christ that is at work in our own lives. It means bearing truthful witness, speaking the truth, even though it may be hard, even though we may pay a price for it.

Evangelism means not hiding the values upon which we base our lives and our actions, but standing up for them. It means becoming representatives of Christ, ambassadors of God to the world. It means seeing other people, every person, no matter how strange or different, as a neighbor. It means loving God and loving our neighbors as ourselves. It means being true to ourselves and our vocation. It means bearing faithful witness to our own identity as Christians, as the people of God.

Let the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

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[1] Exodus 6:7.  The Scripture quotations contained herein are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.  Used by permission.  All rights reserved.

[2] Deuteronomy 19:15.

[3] Walter Brueggemann. “The Book of Exodus” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, volume I (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994).

[4] John Shelby Spong. “The Human Tongue – A Call to Responsibility” in The Living Commandments (New York: Seabury Press, 1977).

[5] Matthew 15:10-20 (selected).

[6] This story, from the Jewish tradition, I altered from Spong in The Living Commandments.

[7] Matthew 5:33-37 (selected).

[8] Spong.