Rightly Dividing the Prohibition Against Lying

Is lying always wrong? Or is there such a thing as a righteous lie?

This is a question that often gets brought up and debated.

I used to believe that a lie was never okay. I grounded that belief in the sentiment that God’s law is a reflection of His unchanging nature and character (see https://x.com/SCT_Chris14/status/1874143772445204905). That is, it is wrong to lie because God is truth (John 14:6; cf. Eph. 5:1; Ti. 1:2). Ergo, there can be no exceptions. Scripture is clear: lying is a sin.

It is commonly pointed out that the ninth commandment doesn’t say, “You shall not lie,” but rather, “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor” (Exod. 20:16). It is my contention that the ninth commandment has a sort of caselaw-like quality to it. That is, it presents a specific example—a quintessential one, if you will—to illustrate the broader principle of what constitutes unlawful lying. And of course, more can be derived from the commandment, per the Westminster Larger Catechism, which affirms that the ninth commandment, at the very least, includes a general prohibition against lying. In any case, there are plenty of verses outside the ninth commandment that clearly teach lying is wrong (e.g., Lev. 19:11; Prov. 12:22; Prov. 6:16–19; Rev. 21:8).

So if Scripture teaches that lying is wrong, and that it’s ultimately because of God’s nature and character, then how could there be an exception?

It was through a conversation with a friend/mentor that I was challenged to think more critically about this. After I told him that lying is wrong because God is truth, he responded with, “Yes, but God is also life—and yet He allows for death in certain instances” (e.g., killing in self-defense, war, and capital punishment).

Okay, fair point. I already granted that certain forms of deception were permissible: a fake pass in basketball, disguising a tank as a bush in war, etc. But I still needed more persuading when it came to the actual act of uttering a lie. Where in Scripture do we ever see that it’s okay to lie? 

The common example appealed to is Rahab, where in Joshua 2 it is recorded that she hid the spies, lied to the pursuers, and sent the spies out by another way. Hebrews 11:31 and James 2:25 both reference this account. My previous position was that those passages don’t commend her lie, but only her faith.

Someone recently brought up the same point in a Sunday school class—even going so far as to suggest that James went out of his way to avoid commending the lie itself.

However, I’m now convinced that the text does suggest James is, in fact, commending the lie. The verse says that Rahab was justified by works, and then immediately explains what her works entailed: receiving the messengers and sending them out by another way. Another way from what? From the route she told the pursuers. I would argue that sending the messengers out another way is part and parcel of the lie. She wouldn’t have sent the pursuers one direction if she didn’t already plan to send the spies in another. It’s all one act: the lie and the execution or completion of the lie.

We are expected to the discern the weightier matters of the law (Matt. 23:23) and apply them accordingly. In this case, the preservation of life outweighs truth-telling, as it were.

Does that mean lying in this context is, as some might say, the “lesser evil”? I don’t think so.

Greg Bahnsen rejected the notion of tragic moral choice. He pointed to verses like 1 Corinthians 10:13, which teaches that we are never put in a situation where we have to sin—God always provides a way of escape. So, in a situation like the Gestapo at your door with Jews hiding in the attic, lying to save lives would not only not be a sin—it would be the right thing to do!

The prohibition against lying has what could be called a built-in exception. However, it’s important to note that we don’t get to come up with our own exceptions to God’s law. Only God can.

Some might argue that, in the case of the Gestapo at the door, you don’t have to lie or tell the truth about their whereabouts; there’s a third option: just say you’re not going to tell them (or something of the like).

But as Bahnsen pointed out, that’s as good as saying, “They’re up there. Go get them.” There’s no wisdom in that, nor does it get you off the hook. If they get murdered, it’s because of your culpable negligence and failure to grasp the weightier matters of the law.

When I was a kid, my grandma would never go to the basement during a tornado warning. She’d say, “I have faith in God. If it’s my time, it’s my time.” My dad replied, “Yeah, but God doesn’t want you to be stupid.”

Granted, no one thinks going to the basement is sinful, like some argue all lying is sinful—so it’s not a perfect analogy. But the point still stands: God doesn’t want us to be stupid. In the Gestapo example, you should lie, and you should lie convincingly.

Returning to the conversation with my friend. At this point, I was mostly persuaded. But I had one more question to ask—one that I thought would, at the very least, get him on the ropes.

I said, “Okay, if lying is okay in that kind of situation, then would Jesus have lied?”

He said, “If Jesus said, ‘They’re not here’ [that is, in the attic]—then poof, they wouldn’t be there.” His point being that truth is what God speaks and/or what corresponds to His mind. If the Definer and Determiner of reality says, “They’re not here,” then it stands to reason that they wouldn’t be there.

As mentioned above, the law reflects God’s character. The underlying principles of righteousness and justice don’t change, because God doesn’t change. At the same time, we live in a sin-cursed world, and we must learn how to rightly apply those principles in the situations in which we find ourselves.

More could be said. But suffice it to say, the position laid out here is that lying is sometimes justified—with caveats, of course. For example, we must not lie about God or deny Christ—not even to save our lives. And we don’t get to create our own exceptions to God’s law. Scripture gives us good reason to believe that, at the very least, lying to preserve life can be morally warranted.