Lombard begin his presentation with Augustine’s On Psalm 5, indicating three types of lies declared by it: those told without malice to protect someone (such as the case or Raab), those told in a form of play, that is, those which are jocose (this would have to be done without malice, and known by all who hear the lie that it is said in jest), and finally, those which are told out of “malice and duplicity,” which is the kind that most expressly must be “guarded against.”[1] Augustine suggests as an example of the first, the “midwives in Exodus, who gave a false report to Pharaoh, to the end that the infants of the children of Israel might not be slain.”[2] Concerning lies said to protect others (or to do good for someone), or lies said in jest, Lombard quotes Augustine to show that there is no great evil being done: “In fine, there are two kinds of lies, in which there is no great fault, either when we jest, or when we lie that we may do good.”[3] To sin greatly, one must significantly break the law of charity. Even minor, unintentional infractions against caritas need to be treated once the infraction has been noticed. But, when one’s intent is to unjustly harm someone else, it is clear we have moved to a different level of guilt. Here, a plea that one acted out of ignorance makes no sense – malevolence, by its very nature, has a specific meaning, and the one who acts, does so with that meaning in mind. Malicious lies intend harm to someone else, and many have the power to bring it about. This is why they are the worst kind of lie, for that malice, working directly against caritas, makes them contrary to both the spirit and the letter of the law.
How shall we describe the guilt associated with these three types of lies? We can only answer in a general sense; we cannot give an answer which would allow us to judge every concrete, particular case. [4] Thus, we can’t simply state that the first two kinds of lies will only be venial sins, while the last, done out of malice, would necessarily be mortal, although we can suggest that, for the average person, this will be the case. The kind of person and the quality of their spiritual life, according to Augustine, plays a part in determining the subjective guilt for a given sin. For one close to perfection, so they know more of the truth, and have been freed from many of the habits of sin, more is expected. For such a person, a particular sin will affect their spiritual state more, and even doing something which involves a minor objective evil could become not only a great setback but a great sin. From this fact, Lombard suggests that “for the perfect, the lie told for another’s advantage is damnable.”[5] This confirms what was said before, that is, it is possible for someone to commit slight objective evil and be guilty of great, subjective evil, because in this case, the perfect person would be seen as committing a mortal sin in a rather minor act. The reason for this seems to be that for the one who is closer to perfection, they are freer from the habits of sin, and so would be more culpable of what they do because they have nothing which would otherwise direct them to act in such a manner. The more freedom one has, the more the guilt one has for doing wrong; the less the freedom, the less the guilt. The perfect would have perfect freedom and their choice would be then completely free if they choose evil (like Satan did at the time of his fall), while the one who has no freedom at all would not be guilty of what is done in and through them.[6]
Of particular importance and interest to people wondering about the ethical use of lies would be the first kind mentioned, that is, a lie done for the sake of some good, such as the protection of an innocent person, especially when done without any malice to those who are being told the lie. Scripture, it would appear, seems to support the use of such lies. This is because we find in it people who are rewarded or praised for telling them, such as in the case of the midwives who protected Moses, or in the case of Raab. Could it be said that such a lie was justified, and there was no sin involved? The answer for Lombard, following Augustine, is no. The reward was given for the good which they did, that is, the protection they offered, but not for the manner in which they gave it – the lie was a sin, and could only be seen as a sin. As, more often than not, good is done in a form mixed with evil, the good which is done should be rewarded, while the evil which is done should be pointed out, rejected, and seen as a blot upon the one who sinned. Consequentialism suggests that the evil is no longer an evil when done for some greater good, so that if one lies to save someone’s life, it would not be a sin. This logic could be used to justify other sins, as Lombard shows by quoting Augustine, “For it is possible to do this by theft also, as when we steal from a rich man who never feels the loss, to give to a poor man who is sensibly benefited by what he gets. And the same can be said of adultery also, when, for instance, some woman appears likely to die of love unless we consent to her wishes, while if she lived she might purify herself by repentance; but yet no one will assert that on this account such an adultery is not a sin.”[7] Recognizing that no sin is dismissed because of the good accomplished by it, we must make satisfaction for it, even when we do sin in the cause of the good. Even if we are pressed into a situation where some form of sin or another will have to be engaged when we act, whatever action we choose will not justify the sin within that act, and so that sin must be accounted for. This is how we should understand even the sins associated with double effect: they are indirectly produced, and not willed, and yet, it is clear when such an act is done, the evil is known in advance and the act is done nonetheless. This is also how we should understand war, when it is allowed as a just war – sin within war, even when it is a just war, is still sin, and satisfaction needs to be made for what happens even in a just war after the war is over. The killing involved in the war still is an evil, it still is sinful, and so the soul is stained by it, even if the act is was seen as necessary.[8] Yet it is important to see the other side of the equation: when one is faced by a difficult situation, and prudentially chooses what they consider to be the best path to take, although the evil produced is to be considered sin and requires satisfaction, the good done does not have to be denied either. This is why Scripture can highlight the good done by the midwives or Raab, because they were put within a situation which was difficult to find a proper response, and their prudential wisdom led to a real good, even if it was mixed with sin. One could say it was the best possible action available to them, and any other response would have required greater sin. Thus we can praise them, not only for the good they did, but for their prudential decision; even if their action was not pure, and free from sin, we can recognize they justly earned the reward they got for what they did, and it does not have to be seen as rewarding sin.
Footnotes
[1] Peter Lombard, Sentences. Book III, dist XXXVIII, c1. Interestingly enough, Augustine in a different text, “On Lying,” says that a joke is not a lie, and so shows how a lie in jest is a borderline incident, one which Augustine at one time, in the most perfect sense, attributes it as being a lie, but in another sense, points out, that it might not be because it might be said to lack the intent of deception. This is significant, because it allows us to consider what is done by actors on stage or film as being justified without any need of accusing them of deception: while what they pretend to be is not who or what they are, the pretense is not being employed to suggest that they are. Nonetheless, as one nears perfection, Augustine suggests even such play might be unwarranted and harmful. Cf. St. Augustine, “On Lying,” in NPNF1(3),c2.
[2] St. Augustine, On the Psalms, in NPNF1(8), V, n7. Important for Augustine is that if we find a reason to praise them, when this happens, “these are praised, not for the fact, but for the disposition shown; since those who only lie in this way, will attain in time to a freedom from all lying.” Ibid.
[3] ibid. As was said previously, this lie as a jest is at the outskirts of what could be considered a lie. On the one hand, the liar does not intend to deceive, per se, and so can be said not to be a lie in the proper sense; everyone involved knows it is not the actual truth. On the other hand, because it is known it is not the truth, and it is stated as if it were the truth, it is in contention with the truth itself. We might not want to call it a lie, since the will is not to deceive, and yet, the will is to go against what is true, and that is a kind of deception, even if it is a deception one expects no one would believe.
[4] Indeed, we can never give a final, authoritative judgment on the subjective level of guilt a person has for a sin they commit. Jesus has told us not to judge, telling us that we do not have the ability to declare the subjective guilt accrued due to sin. He is not telling us we cannot make a judgment according to the objective wrong which has been done. In this way, we might not know how culpable a person is for what they have done, but we certainly can know when they have erred. While many find it sufficient to proclaim the error, charity demands more: we should help fix the harm that has been done.
[5] Peter Lombard, Sentences. Book III, dist XXXVIII, c1.
[6] Such a person will be in a state where others can use them like a puppet, and just as the puppet is not guilty of what the puppeteer does, so such a person will not be implicated in any guilt based upon what people do with their body.
[7] St. Augustine, Enchiridion, NPNF1(3), c22.
[8] This is why David was prohibited from building the temple – the accumulated blood shed at his hands affected his soul. “David said to Solomon, ‘My son, I had it in my heart to build a house to the name of the LORD my God. But the word of the LORD came to me, saying, ‘You have shed much blood and have waged great wars; you shall not build a house to my name, because you have shed so much blood before me upon the earth. Behold, a son shall be born to you; he shall be a man of peace. I will give him peace from all his enemies round about; for his name shall be Solomon, and I will give peace and quiet to Israel in his days. He shall build a house for my name. He shall be my son, and I will be his father, and I will establish his royal throne in Israel for ever'” (1Chron. 22:7-10). David’s guilt came from the work he had to do, for the defense of Israel, and it would have been worse sin for him not to have defended Israel as he had (since he was called to be a warrior). The situational context he found himself in shows that whatever act he could have done, he would have engaged in error and sin. The sin is not justified, even though good was done from it. This also explains why St Basil saw it necessary to say that a soldier who has killed in war is not to receive communion for three years; he recognizes both the need for defensive soldiering and yet that, even when necessary, the impact upon the soul cannot be denied and penance had to be done. “Perhaps, however, it is well to counsel that those whose hands are not clean only abstain from communion for three years.” St Basil, Letter XLXXXVIII (Canonica Prima), in NPNF2(8), Canon XIII.
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