My mom, who stepped into the next world seven years ago at the age of 92, was somewhat eccentric.
She had a lifelong love affair with chocolate and All Things Sugary. She appreciated bright colors, goofy little slogans, pictures of cats wearing tuxedos, and anything that happened to depict a moose.
She also had a tendency from time to time to put her own special spin on reality. Let me put it this way: Mom liked to exaggerate.
Sometime back in the 70s, when my parents decided to patronize a new restaurant, Mom came home raving about her steak that had been covered with sautéed mushrooms. “I got a pound of mushrooms!”
Dad quickly retorted, “No, you didn’t.” “Yes, I did,” she insisted, “everybody got a pound of mushrooms!” All of us, ultimately, had a chance to order a steak at that restaurant, and we most definitely did not get a pound of mushrooms.
But the saying lives on. To this day, in my family, if you want to dismiss something out of hand, you say, “Oh, that’s just a pound of mushrooms.”
Our judicial system compels witnesses to swear or affirm that they will tell “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” Why those three separate provisions?
“The truth” is the simple request that the one testifying will describe reality – that is, what is actually true. “The whole truth” means that relevant facts must not be intentionally withheld – omissions that might change the perception of what actually happened. “Nothing but the truth” is the prohibition of hyperbole or exaggeration. There must be no piling on. That would include embellished details in general and sauteed fungus in particular.
Arriving at the truth, however, is not always an easy task.
Author and psychotherapist Brad Blanton has established a movement called Radical Honesty. He advocates absolute truth-telling in all circumstances, even when it hurts.
But is this really a good idea?
In the movie A Few Good Men, Jack Nicholson rages, “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!” The plain truth is that there are some truths we really cannot handle.
Children do not need to know every detail about this fallen world. And there are certain questions that need to be handled with maximum discretion: “Honey, do these jeans make me look fat?”
All things considered, however, most of us would love to hear more of the truth – and to be more courageous in telling it.
For human beings, unfortunately, lying is a way of life. According to a study overseen by professor of psychology Robert S. Feldman, people tell 3.3 lies during an average 10-minute conversation. Other studies have revealed that we are lied to approximately 200 times a day.
Author Ralph Keyes declares that “some form of deception occurs in nearly two-thirds of all conversations.” Something like 60% of American parents admit to lying to their children on a regular basis (“Chick Fil-A is closed right now”) even though those same parents tell their children that bending the truth is wrong and have no tolerance when their kids lie to them.
According to spiritual author James Bryan Smith, HR experts estimate that approximately 25% of the information that appears on resumes is not just “padding” but “gross misinformation.”
A 2002 undercover sting operation in New Jersey documented 350 examples of fraud at auto repair centers. The really jarring part of this story is that the sting targeted only six auto shops. Investigators estimate that lies told by mechanics lead American consumers to cough up some $40 billion annually for unnecessary repairs.
There is no question that way too many of us believe that we have to lie in order to get by.
The apostle Paul famously declares in Ephesians 4:15 that we are to “speak the truth in love.” For followers of Jesus, who described himself as the Way, the Truth, and the Life, fixed patterns of distorting reality simply will not do. Clinging to God’s help, sustained by God’s forgiveness, and empowered by God’s Spirit, we must resolve to become truth-telling people.
That means actually taking responsibility for the words that come out of our mouths.
Love is what must lead us. Our call is to speak humbly, cautiously, and always with an intent to build others up. And frankly – if we’re really wise – to stop speaking altogether when silence would clearly be an improvement.
Because of God’s grace, there really is hope we can make progress.
And that’s no pound of mushrooms.
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