Chapter LXXII: The Devil’s Pretexts for Lying

THE devil is the father of lies, the parent of a numerous progeny of lies, which he stirs up in the hearts of those who give ear to him, and all the various pretexts and excuses which he insinuates, to hinder them from telling the truth. Now, as I have already told you of the malignant and poisonous character of lying, I must so lay bare all the roots of it, all the pretexts and excuses for it, that you be on your guard against them, and destroy the very root of the matter.

Just as the doctor, when he has a cancer to cure, takes good care to cut out every root of it, and searches and probes down deep to find them, for fear, if any should remain undiscovered and alive under the flesh, the cancer might again gather strength and be worse than before.

The first of these excuses arises from the desire to get rid of some pain or punishment we have deserved, most generally of a reprimand or scolding. A girl has been negligent of her duty. Her mistress goes down into the kitchen and finds a great heap of dirty dishes that ought to have been washed and put away long ago; or the floor that she directed to be scrubbed is in a filthy condition, while the girl has had abundance of time to do it; or the beds are not made up, late in the day; or the meals are behind time, or half-cooked or burned, or many other things neglected which I cannot specify.

Now, instead of an acknowledgment and a resolve to do better, there are a lot of lies ready for the occasion. She had such and such things to do and was overburdened with work, or she felt very unwell, or the fire would not kindle, or the stove would not draw, or she had to go after this or that; anything for an excuse.

The mistress may be deceived sometimes, but she at last finds out that these excuses are a pack of lies, and the result is, more ill-temper and vexation and scolding, and dismissal, than if all had been frankly and sincerely owned and amended.

“I have found her careless and lazy, but she has one merit, she does speak the truth,” is what the lady of the house will say of a truthful girl, and this speaking the truth will atone for many a shortcoming.

Sometimes the lying is to cover up some injury to the property of your employer. You have broken dishes, or allowed something to go to ruin through carelessness. You think something may be deducted from your wages, or that you will be scolded, and you deny it. Have you not deserved all this? Of course. Well, then, if you will not commit a double sin, own up and take the consequences like a Christian, and not behave as a cowardly heathen would.

“Oh! but,” says the father of lies, “it was but a small matter; what is the use of having a fuss about it? I know she will scold hard if she knows it.” Say: “Get behind me, Satan; I will own up, and bring to naught all your tricks.”

Let me tell you what happened once from telling a lie about these small matters. The Empress Eudoxia received the gift of a perfect and beautiful apple from her husband, the emperor. She sent it as a present to a sick nobleman called Paulinus. The emperor by chance found out that Paulinus had this apple, and being of a jealous disposition, he asked his wife what she had done with the apple he gave her. She, out of a cowardly fear of a little displeasure, instead of owning that she had given it away, said that she had eaten it. Her reply fixed the evil suspicion so deep in the emperor’s mind that Paulinus was ordered to be slain, and the empress was divorced and sent away into banishment. So much for a lie about an apple.

Sometimes the lie is to conceal a petty dishonesty. You have taken some trifling thing for your own use, or given it away to your friends. You perceive that a sincere avowal and acknowledgment of this fault will not injure your character, or make you less esteemed, but the idea of shame puts you up to deny it, and tell many lies to screen yourself. How much better to come out at once with the truth, and ask forgiveness, being determined to be more particular in future. The shame you experience will be a powerful means to keep you from ever falling into the like fault again. You lie about these things, and when it comes to more important things in Confession the devil is all ready to suggest other lies. In the first place, the whole truth is not told; very likely the value is concealed, the thing is made light of, for shame or for fear of being made to restore, and a lie is told to Almighty God.

St. Peter said to Ananias and Saphira, his wife, You have not lied to man, but to God, and by God’s judgment, for our warning, they fell dead on the spot. How many lies are not told to God in the same way. Ananias brought the price of his field that he had sold and laid it at the Apostle’s feet. But it was not the whole price, as he pretended and said it was.

So the girl comes to Confession and lays down her sin at the priest’s feet, but not the whole sin. There is a lie in that Confession. She is so in the habit of lying that she can’t tell a straight story even in Confession. Ananias had an excuse for his lie which this girl has not.

His money was his own and he was not obliged to bring one cent of it to St. Peter. St. Peter said to him: “Whilst the field remained, did it not remain to thee? and being sold, was it not in thy power?” (Acts v. 4). He told what people would call a simple lie, that injured no one. He, out of vanity, wanted to get credit for what he did not deserve; yet he heard these fearful words: “Why has Satan tempted thy heart to lie to the Holy Ghost?” This most fearful example of God’s judgment on lying was no doubt given as a special warning that lying in general is an evil thing, and especially when it comes to dealing with God in the tribunal of penance.

Another troop of lies arises from a desire to screen others. “I would not care so much for myself, but it is a good thing to get her off, or him. “No, let him or her manage their own affairs, but keep your soul clear of lying for them. To screen a friend may be well enough, if it can be done without sin. But you have no right to sin that good may come.

This is the devil’s artifice to cheat souls. He holds out something which appears good, and says it is no harm to do so and so: “Don’t you see what good you will do by it: the good is a great deal more than all the sin. Don’t be so dreadfully scrupulous: the world could not get on at all if folks acted on such principles.” Say, again: “Get behind me, Satan; I will have none of your tricks.”