In All Circumstances

Over the next five weeks, we will examine essential rules or values that we have been taught from our childhood. These “household rules”, as I call them, illustrate more than merely a behavioral code of conduct that our parents, teachers, or other authority figures instilled in us. Rather, these ideals illuminate practices or habits that we may be able to use in order to spread our unique influence, bridge and enrich relationships, and affect world-change. As we uncover the truths within each of these principles, my hope is that we will be empowered with the strength within us in order to deeper and more affectively love the world and all those around us. We will begin with our first principle, Always tell the truth. Something we learn from an early age is to tell the truth. In middle school, I read an autobiographical story about a Jewish woman named Corrie ten Boom. In the novel, The Hiding Place, Boom recounts how her and her family helped numerous Jews escape the Nazi Holocaust during World War II and how she was subsequently imprisoned for her actions. This real life example became a pillar for philosophical and intellectual examination of the duty to tell the truth. Years later, in my college Intro to Philosophy class, we examined the weight of the duty to tell the truth, the parameters we place around it, and any exceptions that allow any ethical opportunity in which we do not tell the truth to exist. “If your life were in jeopardy, if you found yourself in the presence of Nazi soldiers, would telling a lie be permitted?” We pondered such a question for a few weeks worth of lectures, coming to different conclusions across the board. But for Boom, this reality of telling the truth was not merely a question of ethics, but a conviction of something deeper, of a force more powerful, and ultimately of the instance that would change her life. In her novel, Boom reflects upon these tragedies that were wrapped in her memories of the concentration camp, but she finds a purpose even amid the heartache. She famously says, “Today I know that such memories are the key not to the past, but to the future. I know that the experiences of our lives, when we let God use them, become the mysterious and perfect preparation for the work He will give us to do.” For most of us living in America, we may never know the heart-wrenching conviction of deciding to tell the truth when it may cost us our lives or our freedom. We may never have to realize how an instance of telling the truth can completely alter our entire world. However, we as we reflect on such a simple and foundational truth that has become instinctive in our lives, we may begin to realize how this truth impacts our relationships with one another. The example of Corrie ten Boom should cast a light on the value that we allot to telling the truth. Do we elevate its importance, and its effect on other people, above how important we may perceive our own lives or circumstances to be? Do we craft our own parameters and identify our own exceptions where telling the truth may not be necessary? Do we justify a lie, convincing ourselves that the truth, instead, would cause more harm than good? We teach our children the importance of telling the truth, rebuking them if we catch them in a lie. Today, I see the value of telling the truth in the way that it affects relationships. Trust is threatened, sometimes wholly lost, when we catch a friend, family member, spouse, or partner in a lie. It almost seems that the value of telling the truth withstands all of time, variances of culture, nationality, and generation. But how far do we allow this principle of always telling the truth to seep into our lives? Always tell the truth. The word “always” is replaced with “mostly”, “generally”, “only when it does not cause harm to others-- or myself”. But, what if we shed our addiction to control? What if we allowed the events of the unknown to prevail amid whatever circumstances, conditions, tragedies, heartbreak, uncertainty, happiness, and wonder that may accompany them? What if we choose to tell the truth even when it is not in our own best interest? What if we always tell the truth? When we elevate the value of telling the truth above our own convenience or preference, we may begin to notice a shift in our own relationships and in our own view of the world. We may discover that the practice of telling the truth does not have to be sacrificed at our own expense or at the expense of others. We may begin to develop a grace, kindness, gentleness, and empathy in our deliverance in telling the truth, such that as our pride begins to diminish, our humility begins to take root. Once we let go of our grip on controlling our lives, our eyes may become open to way that the truth illuminates the unknown and prevails amid whatever fears or anxieties that we may have. The fact is, we may mess up. We may not be capable telling the truth in all circumstances. We may hurt others with our dishonesty. We may continue to make a few or a lot of mistakes for as long as we live. But, the thing about an ideal is that it stands resistant to our mistakes and failures and instead equips us to continually strive to attain it. By striving to tell the truth, then, we push ourselves to become better each day. By striving to tell the truth in all circumstances, we not only hold fast to that ideal for ourselves, but for all those around us. Just then, we may begin to see that in all our attempts in telling the truth and the mistakes we make along the way, we allow the beauty of the unknown to shine through all those relationships, expected and unexpected, we form with the world around us.