One
day Hershel of Ostropol was traveling along the road and stopped overnight at
an inn. He was famished, but had no money in his pocket. He sat down at a table
and said to the innkeeper, “I’m dying of hunger. Please give me something to
eat.”
The
innkeeper didn’t like the look of Hershel, dirty and unkempt, his clothes
ragged. The innkeeper was pretty sure Hershel would not be able to pay his
bill.
“I’m
sorry, sir,” said the innkeeper, “we’re all out of food.”
Hershel
sat quietly for a moment. Then he said slowly and quietly, “In that case, I’m
going to have to do what my father did.”
The
innkeeper grew frightened. What did Hershel’s father do? “What did your father
do?” the innkeeper asked.
“My
father did what he had to do,” Hershel replied in a low growl.
Hearing
this, the innkeeper grew more frightened. What kind of man had his father been?
A thief? A murderer? Even worse?
“Just
a minute, sir,” the innkeeper said, and rushed into the kitchen, reemerging minutes
later with a tray laden with fish, chicken, black bread, and vegetables.
Hershel
ate with gusto, polishing off the last forkful in a matter of minutes. “This is
the most wonderful meal I’ve had in many weeks,” he told the innkeeper.
“I’m
glad,” the innkeeper said in relief. “But could you tell me, sir, what was it
that your father did?”
“My
father?” asked Hershel. “Oh, yes, my father. Well, when my father couldn’t
afford anything to eat, he went to bed hungry.”
Hershel got a lot of mileage from
his deception. He correctly presumes that the innkeeper will interpret his
words as a physical threat. How many of us would applaud the outright lying of
the innkeeper, or the implicit lying of Hershel? Yet we root for Hershel; his
clever deceit elicits our smiles, laughter, and approval.
In this week’s parashah, Lech Lecha, Abraham practices deceit,
much as Hershel does. Famine drives
Abraham to Egypt where, fearing that the pharaoh will kidnap his wife to
enlarge his harem, he tells Sarah:
“I know what a
beautiful woman you are. If the Egyptians see you, and think, ‘She is his
wife,’ they will kill me and let you live. Please say that you are my sister,
that it may go well with me because of you, and that I may remain alive thanks
to you.’” (Genesis 12:11-12)
Predictably, the pharaoh has Sarah brought to him, and rewards Abraham
handsomely:
And because of her, it went well with Avram; he acquired
sheep, oxen, assess, male and female slaves, she-asses, and camels (Genesis 12:16).
But God intervenes, afflicting Pharaoh and his household with plagues
before Pharaoh has a chance to take advantage of his new prize. Pharaoh,
realizing what this means, returns Sarah to Abraham’s tent, castigates Abraham
for lying, and exiles him from Egypt.
To be precise, Abraham does not tell an outright lie. He tells a half-truth. Sarah is her husband’s
half-sister (Genesis 20:12). So, too, Hershel. Strictly speaking, he tells the
truth, but does so in a way that leads the innkeeper to interpret it otherwise.
Both Hershel and Abraham are unquestionably deceitful. They are not
alone. Psychologists’ research reveals that most of us lie 150-200 times each
day. Yes, 150-200 times every day. (You
might enjoy Pamela Meyer’s TED Talk on the subject of spotting a liar. (http://www.ted.com/talks/pamela_meyer_how_to_spot_a_liar.html)
If God’s seal is
truth, should we not avoid lies at all times and at all costs?
The Rabbis take up the question of lying in the context of a
discussion of how to praise a bride on her wedding day.
The
Rabbis taught: How does one dance before the bride [i.e., how does one praise
her]? The School of Shammai says: We praise the bride as she is. The School of
Hillel says: We say that she is a beautiful and graceful bride. The School of
Shammai said to the School of Hillel: If she was lame or blind, does one say
that she is a beautiful and graceful bride? But the Torah said, Distance yourself from a false matter
(Exodus 23:7). The School of Hillel said to the School of Shammai: According to
your opinion, if someone made an inferior purchase in the marketplace, should
one praise it or deprecate it in his eyes. Surely, one should praise it. From
here the Sages said: A person’s disposition should always be pleasant with
people. (B.Ketubot 16b-17a)
Rembrandt, The Jewish Bride, ~1667
The Rabbis are saying: Be nice and say kind things; don’t
wound the feeling of the bride. The discussion continues in tractate Yebamot:
R. Ilai said in the name of R. Elazar son of R.
Shimon: It is permitted for a
person to deviate from the truth in the interest of peace, as it
says: Your father [Jacob] commanded
before his death, saying: So shall you say to Joseph, “O Please forgive the offense of your brothers and their sin for they
have treated you so wickedly” (Genesis 50:16-17).
R.
Natan said it is a commandment
[to deviate from the truth in the interest of peace], as it says: And Samuel said, “How can I go? If Saul
hears of it, he will kill me” (I Samuel 16:2).
The
School of R. Yishmael taught: Great is the cause of peace, seeing that for its
sake, even the Holy One, blessed be God, changed the truth, for at first it is
written, “My lord [i.e., Abraham] is old (Genesis
18:12), while afterward it is written, ”And I am old” (Genesis 18:13). [Sarah
expresses disbelief that she can conceive because Abraham is old, but God
reports to Abraham that she said she cannot conceive because she is old.] (B.Yebamot 65b)
While R. Ilai says lying is permitted to preserve peace,
R. Natan says lying is required to preserve peace. In fact, so important is
peace, that even God told a lie when reporting Sarah’s words to Abraham. Is
this what Ralph Waldo Emerson had in mind when he said, “Truth is beautiful,
without doubt; but so are lies”?
Mip-nei
dar-kei shalom (for the sake of the ways of peace) we may, or
perhaps ought to, be less than truthful to protect the feelings of others. This
would include confirming that the bride is beautiful; that your friend looks
good in his/her new outfit; and that you had a wonderful time at a certain
party. We call these “white lies.” In
such cases, it is helpful to recall the words of Samuel Butler: “The best liar
is he who makes the smallest amount of lying go the longest way.”
And certainly, the Rabbis affirm, we may lie to preserve
life, as well as to protect property from thieves, and to avoid the appearance
or reality of arrogance and immodesty. The reality is that there are times we
need to shade the truth or lie outright. The reality is also that we prone to
lie -- apparently 150-200 times each day. Midrash suggests that this is in our
nature:
When God
contemplated the creation of humanity, he consulted Compassion, Peace, Justice,
and Truth. Truth said: “Don’t create them! They will be false and deceitful!”
What did God do? God cast Truth to the earth and created humanity. (Bereishit Rabbah 8:5)
It is not always wise or kind to tell the truth, but this is far from
blanket permission to lie whenever it is convenient. Returning to the
staggering number of 150-200 lies day in and day out, I wonder: Are we even
aware each time we deviate from the truth? It might behoove each of us to spend
some time each day monitoring ourselves: When did we lie? Why did we deviate
from the truth? Was our reason legitimate?
Rav Chanina
said: …the seal of the Holy One blessed be God is TRUTH (emet)... (B.Yoma 69b).
Perhaps our seal can move a bit closer to God’s. If we can at least be
honest with ourselves, and know when and why we avoid the truth, we might be
able to be more honest with others where there is no legitimate reason to lie.
© Rabbi Amy Scheinerman
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