Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

There are two kinds of lies or, at least, two reasons for lies. You’ve heard both of them. You’ve used both of them. I know that because we’re all sinners. We also saw both kinds in the section of the Passion History we read earlier.

Lies of advantage are the untruths we tell or otherwise get people to believe because we think that they put us in a better position in some way. We might hope to profit financially from a lie, to manipulate people or a situation, to hurt someone, to gain or retain power by obscuring the truth, or simply make ourselves feel better by feeding our pride or avoiding shame. The chief priests and the Sanhedrin in our reading were using and seeking this kind of lie: false evidence against Jesus that would allow them to condemn him and get rid of someone they saw as a threat to their power, all while giving the appearance of justice.

The other kind of lie is born of fear. We’re afraid of the consequences if we tell the truth, so we speak falsely. Maybe we tell the lie to avoid getting punished for something we’ve done — or even something we haven’t done but think we’ll get in trouble for. Perhaps we’re afraid of the exposure and discomfort, embarrassment or mockery, that might come with the truth. Maybe we’re afraid that we’re going to lose something if we’re honest — respect, a relationship, an opportunity, or just time and energy. Peter’s denials that he was one of Christ’s disciples — that he even knew Jesus — were clearly lies of fear: he was afraid of all sorts of things that could happen if he confessed his connection to the Lord.

Humanly speaking, we are probably more comfortable with, or at least less likely to condemn, lying from fear — but God’s not happy with either kind. Anything we do to alter, obscure, or replace the truth is a lie no matter the reason, and lying is a sin, whether we’re doing it to a stranger or a friend, a parent or a child, a spouse or a colleague, a teacher or a boss, the police or the IRS. God is truth, God tells the truth, and his law makes clear that we are to do the same.

All of which should lead us to think more, and more deeply, not just about the lies we tell but also the untruths we believe or build our lives around. We don’t like to admit it, but we’re not only ever “guiltless victims” of other people’s lies — there are many we choose to believe or rely on even though we know, or should know, better, making us not so different from the chief priests and their profiting from perjury when we unquestioningly accept untruths from panderers, pundits, or politicians, celebrities, gossips, or social media. There are even lies we tell ourselves about ourselves and choose to believe because they are comfortable, feed our egos, or simply save us the trouble of seeking or the pain of dealing with the truth.

But God’s people will want what he wants, love what he loves, and hate what he hates. And he wants truth and hates falsehood.

That’s something the members of the Sanhedrin certainly lost sight of. Since they knew the Scriptures and saw themselves as the best of God’s people, they should have recognized that what they were doing was wrong — and stopped it. They should have remembered not just the 10 Commandments and the Laws of Moses but also the writings of the prophets. Like Zechariah. If they had, they would have acted differently — or at least they would have appreciated how their words and actions were opening themselves and their people up to divine judgment.

Here’s what the Lord said through his prophet, Zechariah 8:14-17:

¹⁴ This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Just as I had determined to bring disaster on you and showed no pity when your ancestors angered me,” says the Lord Almighty, ¹⁵ “so now I have determined to do good again to Jerusalem and Judah. Do not be afraid. ¹⁶ These are the things you are to do: Speak the truth to each other, and render true and sound judgment in your courts; ¹⁷ do not plot evil against each other, and do not love to swear falsely. I hate all this,” declares the Lord. (NIV11)

God is a great Law-Gospel preacher — go figure! In those four verses, he follows the same kind of outline that good Lutheran pastors are encouraged to use in their sermons. He starts with the law to expose sin and the sinner’s need for a Savior — he reminds his people that they had been disobedient to the Almighty God and he had punished them for that. Then he gives the gospel — he tells them that all is forgiven and that he is going to bless, not punish; there is nothing to be afraid of. Next, he returns to the law, but this time as the guide for what his people should do and not do in order to keep his will and please him — speak the truth and use your courts for justice and peace instead of lies and evil plots. Finally, he follows up with the gospel again, because it is only through it that the law can be obeyed — he reminds them that he is the Lord, the God — their God — of free and faithful grace.

But there’s something else we should notice and appreciate about what he says here, something that’s common to every verse: God is not just talking about truth, he is telling the truth, and he wants everyone who hears or reads his words to recognize them as truth.

Have you ever wondered why we use the same word for two things that are pretty different? We confess our sins — something very negative that we are individually responsible for — and we also confess the Creeds, as we will do after the sermon — something very positive and collective, speaking as a group.

Well, the Greek word we translate as “confess” is homologeo and it literally means “to say the same thing”. That’s what God wants, and we want, us to say — to him, together and to each other. So when we confess our sins, we’re saying the same thing that God says about our behavior: we have failed to live up to the standards of his law, his will, and the character he calls us to. And he speaks back to us the glorious and gracious truth of the gospel — that he forgives our sins for Jesus’ sake. And then, we confess together: with the Creed we are saying the same things about what we believe and saying the same things with our brothers and sisters in faith — we accept the gospel of our salvation and everything he tells us in the Bible as “most certainly true”, not just for us, but for everyone, forever. It’s the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

Now you probably recognize that phrasing from the oath that people are given when they take the witness stand in court. When the high priest said to Jesus, “I charge you under oath by the living God,” he was making the same kind of demand for honesty — which was ironic both because he had just been encouraging false testimony and because he refused to accept the truth when Jesus told it.

But the Lord’s words here in Zechariah 8 take all of God’s people into court and call them to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. This is important for God and his people not just because the stakes are so high for individuals when they are on trial or suits are filed, but also because the health of the entire society and nation suffers when falsehoods and evil flourish in the courts, while everyone is blessed when the courts can be relied on for truth, justice, and peace. This is as much the case for America in our time as it was for Judah in Zechariah’s time.

Yet, as you can no doubt guess, it’s not only about the courtroom or oaths or testimony. God’s children, like God himself, are all about truth all the time. You and I, as Christians, should always and naturally be known as honest truth-tellers and never have a reputation as liars, truth-stretchers, or BSers. This is important to our Lord; it’s important to us.

And consistently, happily, even courageously telling the truth is not as hard as it might sometimes seem. Because when we’re in Christ, we have no reason to lie.

We don’t need to lie to gain advantage because we’re already blessed beyond measure. We have a loving and generous Father who gives us all we need. We have the Lord’s promise to work everything in our lives for our good — even pain, suffering, and injustice. And we have a place in paradise waiting for us — perfect bliss and unimaginable glory. So we don’t need to avoid or hide or bend the truth to profit, manipulate, or feel better. We certainly won’t use untruths to hurt or exploit anyone else — we love our neighbor. And we joyfully submit to and tell the truth to God and his representatives in the family, the church, and the state.

There’s also no reason to lie out of fear. Jesus took away the guilt and paid the price of all our sins on the cross, so we aren’t afraid of punishment. Even if telling the truth will have a cost or lose us something, that’s nothing compared to what is forever ours in Christ. And since we readily admit we’re sinners, the threat of exposure or embarrassment just isn’t that frightening anymore. The Lord through Zechariah tells us here “Do not be afraid,” and we take that to heart and into our lives, thoughts, and speech.

We will, though, fail sometimes. We still have sinful natures that tell us to lie for advantage, and at times weak faith leads us to fear. We can’t claim to be better than Peter, who in his time of testing denied both the truth and his Lord three times.

But when we fail as truth-tellers, we confess our sins to the Lord.  And he forgives us, for Jesus’ sake. That’s why Christ came, why he submitted to injustice, why he suffered, why he poured out his blood, why he died on the cross. His Passion was all about us — cleansing us from our sins, saving us from death and hell, delivering us from Satan and his lies. In love, he did it all, because we couldn’t do anything to save ourselves.

And we respond to that amazing grace with thanks and praise and a deep desire to do and be better. We listen, we learn, we work, and we keep at it all our lives.

Most of all, though, we rely on the Lord, and that trust is well placed. Not only is he immeasurably strong, loving, and merciful, but he hates lies, so he will keep us from them. He is, and is always all about, truth.

And because of all he has done and still does and will do for us, we are all about the same thing in our communities and our conflicts, in our churches and schools, in our marriages and families, in politics and the workplace. In all our life, in everything, we’re all about the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help us, God. Amen.