The Monster that Challenged the World

I don’t know about you, but I still remember the first time I got caught in a lie. I was in second grade and had been invited to attend a Sunday School party at a local roller skating rink. (Gasp!) I know, the situation is pretty bad. My first memory of a lie has to do with a church function, but cut me some slack. When I was a kid about the only functions I ever went to were church functions. Where else was this supposed to happen?

My dad had given me ten dollars, which in the late 1970’s was more than enough for skating and a snack. He gave me permission to skate, only to skate, and I was to bring the rest back to him. I took the money and headed off to skating heaven which included ABBA and the Bee Gees. Needless to say, it was a swinging, groovy, disco-tech party, pretty fly for a seven-year-old and a bit risqué for a Sunday School event. Oh well. It explains a lot that is wrong with me. I remember skating for a bit, but what I remember most was that this skating rink had the most awesome pinball machine ever. The glowing, blinking lights of this electronic marvel beckoned to me. It called me. Wooed me. I could not look away. Pure bliss was only a quarter away and I had three quarters in my pocket, part of the change I had received after paying for my skates. Three quarters. It was only three quarters and what was that in exchange for pure heaven? Less than three minutes later I was three quarters poorer and scared (pronounced “skeeerrrddd”). My dad had not given me permission to spend his money on anything but skates and I, I had squandered three quarters on an electronic paradise only to have something less than paradise waiting for me at home in response to my deliberate transgression. What was I to do? How was I to get out of this? How was I to explain the obvious needs of a young boy to a callous, unfeeling adult? I needed those three quarters but they were not mine to take and now the problem was mine to solve.

My mom picked me up and we rode home. I don’t remember what we talked about, only that it was my mom and not my dad. Dad was waiting at home and I was three quarters short. Dad met me in the kitchen with an outstretched hand. I dug around in the pockets of my Toughskins and fished out the dollars. Placed them in his hand and turned to walk away. Maybe if I said nothing he would not recognize my three quarter omission. I was on a strict “Don’t ask. Don’t tell.” policy here. I didn’t make it out of the kitchen before he had counted his change. Curse you school for teaching adults to count so quickly! Maybe if I had just had time to get out of sight. . .but “Is this all?” reached my ears before I could reach the door. I turned and simply said “Yes.” It was all I had, after all. We stood facing one another for a moment, like two gunslingers sizing one another up, my mom off to the side waiting to see who would draw first. My dad went for the heart. “Where is the rest?” He had me. He knew. He knew those three quarters were missing! What was I to do?

I said the first thing that came to mind. “I bought a Coke.” I don’t know where it came from but it made perfect sense in the moment. I bought a Coke. Yes, that would explain all. No need to try to explain to an adult a boy’s need for electronic paradise. A Coke would suffice nicely. Dad didn’t move except to draw with his left hand. Who knew Dad was an ambidextrous gunslinger? “ A Coke doesn’t cost what is missing, and you didn’t have permission to buy a Coke.” I was hit but I wasn’t down. I still had some fight in me. I wasn’t going to go down for this one. I wasn’t going to do the time. I fired off a shot of desperation. “Well, I got thirsty and that is what it cost. Call the rink.” What could he say to that? How could he deny the physical needs of his own flesh and blood? I was wounded but I was safe. I was going to walk away from this one. He was out of bullets and I was still standing. . .and then he pulled out a revolver from his boot holster. Who wears a boot holster? He walked over, picked up the phone and called the skating rink. I was a dead man and I knew it.

I don’t remember what happened after that, but it probably wasn’t pleasant. I probably blacked out in sheer terror. You would think I would have learned my lesson but that wouldn’t be the last gunslinging I experienced. From that point, I would try to outsmart, outwit, and outmaneuver my parents from time to time by bending the truth. Sometimes I got away with it. Most of the time I didn’t. Outcomes aside, the reasons were also the same. I lied to avoid the consequences. Simply put, the truth hurt so I lied. I created a new “truth”—a truth that led to a place that didn’t hurt so much.

I suppose this is what lies behind most of the lies that I tell. Yes, even pastors tell lies. Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll have to call you a liar! When I lie, I do so because the truth hurts. I don’t like the truth. The truth hurts my relationships with others. The truth hurts my pride. The truth hurts my chances of obtaining what I want, and so I lie. I create a new truth because I like where the new truth leads me. I lie because I think it will be best—for me and you—if I don’t tell you the rest. Is this really best? It certainly isn’t best if I get caught. But, I am coming to discover that it isn’t best, even if I don’t get caught. When I lie to keep a relationship, I walk around knowing the relationship is built on a false pretense. That isn’t best. When I lie, I do so to obtain what I normally wouldn’t be able to obtain, but I now possess knowing I do so having bought it with counterfeit goods. When I lie, I do so to avoid painful consequences, but I avoid not just the consequences but the life lesson I could have learned and grown from. I lie because the truth can hurt, but I am discovering that though the truth may hurt, it is only the truth that leads to the life I really want.

A fellow traveler,

Blake

What’s my next step?

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of handing off faith in your family.

Practice telling the truth:  Telling the truth is easy for children when they feel safe. Therefore, creating a safe environment is an important part of helping them practice telling the truth. One way to do this is the exercise of highs and lows. Each night, perhaps at the dinner table, ask your child what the high point and low point of the day was. Often the low will include their feelings being hurt, something longed for not occurring, or an experience in which they got in trouble. Allow them to speak without judging or condemning them in the moment. Simply listen and be present with them, allowing them to speak what is true without fear in the moment.

We encourage you to consider engaging in the following as a way of deepening your own faith.

Tell the truth in love:  Telling the truth is difficult because the truth can hurt, and we have all experienced truth spoken in such a way that it was intended to hurt. Truth that leads to the life God intends is truth spoken in love, truth spoken in such a way that a person’s devotion to another shines through. This week practice telling the truth in love by focusing on areas in the lives of others in which you can praise or bless them. Seek to speak words of encouragement and blessing which lift others up. It is easier to speak the truth about these things, things people have done well, than it is to speak about difficult things. Practice being for a person and speaking the truth. As you practice, seek to do so with an openness to God’s power and presence flowing through you into the other person. With practice in speaking what is true in love by the power and presence of God you will discover that it is easier to speak the truth about more difficult things.