On Lying: A Moral Guide Based Upon Lombard’s Sentences. Part IV: The Secondary Classification
Having broken down lies into three different kinds, Lombard returns once again to their classification, and presents a different approach, using Augustine’s On Lying to show eight different types: “For first to be eschewed is that capital lie and far to be fled from, which is done in doctrine of religion; to which lie a man ought by no consideration to be induced. The second, that he should hurt some man unjustly: which is such that it profits no man and hurts some man. The third, which so profits one as to hurt another, but not in corporal defilement. The fourth, that which is done through only lust of lying and deceiving, which is an unmixed lie. The fifth, what is done with desire of pleasing by agreeableness in talk. All these being utterly eschewed and rejected, there follows a sixth sort which at once hurts nobody and helps somebody; as when, if a person’s money is to be unjustly taken from him, one who knows where the money is, should say that he does not know, by whomsoever the question be put. The seventh, which hurts none and profits some: except if a judge interrogate: as when, not wishing to betray a man who is sought for to be put to death, one should lie; not only a just and innocent, but also a culprit; because it belongs to Christian discipline neither to despair of any man’s amendment, nor to bar the way of repentance against any. Of which two sorts, which are wont to be attended with great controversy, we have sufficiently treated, and have shown what was our judgment; that by taking the consequences, which are honorably and bravely borne, these kinds also should be eschewed by brave and faithful and truthful men and women. The eighth sort of lie is that which hurts no man, and does good in the preserving somebody from corporal defilement, at least that defilement which we have mentioned above.“[1]
This list has ordered the lies according to how bad they are, with the first being the worst, and the eighth being of the least concern;[2] however, one should flee all, because each kind involves sin, and all sin stands in opposition to God. Or, as Lombard quotes from Rufinus, “no lie is of God.”[3] What are we to make of this list? Lombard does not go into any detail, and so leaves it up for us to explore what was presented on our own.
Willful deception in regards to religion is said to be the worst, and most dangerous, kind of lie. Obviously this is because it is slander against God, who, more than even our neighbor, deserves our love. A lie against God, or the truths of God’s revelation, clearly breaks us away from the love we should have for God. Who could ever purposefully misrepresent their loved one? Love seeks to glorify the beloved. Tying to denigrate God can only be an act of blasphemy. Why would one go about such an act, and besmear God’s dignity? Either they think they have something to gain out of it (as happens when false prophets convince people to become their followers), or, they are filled with such hate, that they want to see others led astray and damned; obviously it is possible that the liar could have both of these objectives in mind at once.[4] In this way, a religious lie must be seen as a sin against both God and man, a sin against the whole of the law, because both fail to receive the love required of us. However, we must not confuse a lie about God, which is a great evil, with a mistaken view about him; presenting the second to others, though dangerous, is not intended as deceit and qualifies as a different kind of error.
The second is a lie which helps no one, told without any good intention whatsoever, and its only purpose is to deceive someone else so as to cause them injury. It is done out of pure malice. The reason why someone would tell such a lie is that they get some sort of inordinate pleasure from it.[5] It’s a strong violation against caritas, clearly indicating its objective gravity.
The third is nearly as bad as the second, because malice is clearly part of the intent, although, because the end result is that some small good comes out of it, that someone profits from it (beyond the pleasure the liar has in telling the lie), that good, however much is involved, mediates the objective evil involved.[6] Whatever the good is, and whatever caritas the liar might show to someone by lying in this manner, it is undermined by the overall malice intended in the act. As no ends can be used to justify the means, so in this case, no one can willfully lie about one person, harming them, to help someone else. The objective evil, because of the malice involved, remains significant.
The fourth type is the lie which is told by someone who lies, not out of malice, nor for any proper good, but because they have made a habit out of lying.[7] This kind of liar enjoys the act of lying itself, and finds a sense of pleasure in the execution of a lie. It is in this regard a lust, because it is desire for an inordinate pleasure, and it is one which leads the liar astray, away from the truth, though, because no direct malice is intended, and because the liar has become a habitual liar, the subjective guilt involved will be mediated. The objective guilt associated with the lie will depend upon what the lie actually is, though it will not be as grave as those lies done with direct, willful intent to harm someone. This is why it is listed after all lies associated with malice, even though one such lie (the third) is associated with some positive good, and this one is not.
The last four kinds of lies, while they are indeed sinful, are of minor significance in comparison of the first four. One might think the fourth itself is minor, because the subjective guilt would itself be minor, but, because it is only said by one who is in the habit of sinning, it indicates a dangerous position for a person to be in; they have created for themselves an addiction which they must struggle against and defeat, either now or through purgatory, for the good of their soul, otherwise it will lead them further astray into more objective evil.[8] What the last four have in common is that the lie is said, not out of malice, nor out of habit, but out of either a sense of pleasure that one thinks the lie will produce, or for the good they think such a lie will produce. We continue to see, in their classification, the sliding scale of evil, based upon the kind and amount of good produced from such lie, but, because no evil can be justified by the good which comes out of it, we must always remember that there still is a sin which must be atoned for when one tells one of these kinds of lies.[9]
Thus, we have for the fifth kind of lie, one which is done, not out of any ill will, but for the sake of pleasing someone, even if it would be better if nothing, or the truth, be said. This would be where white laws would be classified in this list. We often say something which we think someone else wants to hear, whether or not it is true, either because we think it would flatter them, or worse, we fear of what they might think or do if confronted with the truth. Because there is a deliberate intent to deceive, caritas has been breached, and the sinfulness of the act is established. Moreover, telling this kind of lie amounts to little objective harm, and little objective good, making it worse than the last three, which have true objective goods in mind.
The sixth, seventh, and eighth kind of lie are very similar, since they all seek to do some significant good, with the type of good involved indicating where the lie is to be placed upon Augustine’s scale. The least possible good would be done when one lies to protect someone from being unjustly taken advantage of, such as by protecting them from unjust search and seizure, while Augustine would have the seventh type of lie being found with one who lies in order to save someone’s life (whether or not they are an innocent person, because a Christian should hope that even the worst of criminals would be converted and change their ways), with the least sin being done when one lies in order to protect a person from undignified bodily harm. In each situation, there not only is the intent to deceive, but the actual attempt (whether or not it is successful), and so, the act would remain a lie, even if one were to say the person who was being lied to had no right to know what it is that they are being lied about. It would be worthwhile to note that we might want to reverse the order of the seventh and eighth sins from how Augustine placed them. For it would appear that one’s fundamental dignity is greater harmed by the taking of their life, their most fundamental treasure, than by causing bodily harm. This would be especially true when discussing lies told to protect someone from death. For what is it that would lead to that person’s death, but some assault on their body which would lead to their death? In this way, protecting someone from death would appear to include protecting them from bodily harm, but the reverse is not always true. Nonetheless, it is probable that Augustine is thinking of some great disfigurement which would, in life, be so unbearable, so undignified, that their fate might be seen as one which is “worse than death,” if it is at all possible.[10]
Before moving on to the next chapter of The Sentences, it is worthwhile to note that St Thomas Aquinas, following Aristotle, presented a third way to classify lies: “On this way, according to the Philosopher (Ethic. iv, 7), lies are of two kinds, namely, the lie which goes beyond the truth, and this belongs to ‘boasting,’ and the lie which stops short of the truth, and this belongs to ‘irony.“[11] This distinction is important, because it reminds us that lies can be told in half-truths, where we lie by stopping short of the truth, leading our audience to believe something erroneous, though if they had been told more, they would not be misled. Both of these forms of lies can be, and should be, seen as applicable to the three-fold and eight-fold distinctions Lombard presented to us; that one could lie in either fashion, by exaggeration or by half-truth, while following the patterns Lombard established. Aquinas points out that the two-fold classification is according to the essence of the lie, the three-fold distinction is according to their “nature as sins“, and relates to “those things that aggravate or diminish the sin of lying on the part of the intended,” and the eight-fold distinction classifies in a “more general way, with respect to their relation to some end, whether or not this increase or diminish their gravity.“[12] Thus, these classifications must be seen as different modes of examining lies which complement each other.
Footnotes
[1] St. Augustine, “On Lying,” c25. I have added here elements which Lombard himself cut out from his quotation, to put the whole of Augustine’s statement in context.
[2] Ibid., c42.
[3] Rufinus of Aquileia, Historia monachorum, De Iohanne I, bk I, c 2, n5 in Peter Lombard, Sentences. Book III, dist XXXVIII, c2.
[4] Which, obviously is the case with the beast of revelation, “Men worshiped the dragon, for he had given his authority to the beast, and they worshiped the beast, saying, ‘Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it?’ And the beast was given a mouth uttering haughty and blasphemous words, and it was allowed to exercise authority for forty-two months; it opened its mouth to utter blasphemies against God, blaspheming his name and his dwelling, that is, those who dwell in heaven” (Rev.13:4-6).
[5] If they suggest some other reason, such as “paying” someone back, then the lie differs from what is presented here, because some sense of justice, a good, is being employed.
[6] The person who gains does not have to be the liar themselves. For example, let’s take three people, Jack, Jill, and Mary. All three are involved with politics. Both Jill and Mary are running for office, and Jack is Mary’s campaign advisor. If Mary were put into office, she would be of more positive help than Jill, though it would be hard to prove this by her record. Jack hates Jill, and wants to destroy her political career; he finds a way which allows him to lie about Jill, to destroy her political career, and does it, helping Mary get into office. While Mary’s new position is an actual good, the malice involved in Jack’s lie would undermine the good he accomplished in getting her into office. Now this is the kind of harm Augustine intends when he says that the harm involved is to be non-corporal; but what are we to say of a lie which leads to bodily harm? Augustine does not answer, but one could suggest that he thinks a far greater sin is involved, and that sin is what needs to be addressed, not the lie, but if one were to address the lie, it would have to lie somewhere between the second and third kinds, because there is still some positive good intended by the act. Lombard, on the other hand, does not mention corporal defilement when quoting from Augustine, simplifying the matter.
[7] This is how St Thomas Aquinas understands Augustine, as can be found in ST II-II, Q110, Art2.
[8] Of the elimination of habits, St Thomas Aquinas says, “Consequently all habits that are gradually undermined by contrary agencies which need to be counteracted by acts proceeding from those habits, are diminished or even destroyed altogether by long cessation from act, as is clearly seen in the case both of science and of virtue. For it is evident that a habit of moral virtue makes a man ready to choose the mean in deeds and passions. And when a man fails to make use of his virtuous habit in order to moderate his own passions or deeds, the necessary result is that many passions and deeds fail to observe the mode of virtue, by reason of the inclination of the sensitive appetite and of other external agencies. Wherefore virtue is destroyed or lessened through cessation from act,” St Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica. Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1948), II-I, Q53, Art3.
[9] Thus, as St Thomas Aquinas says, “Now it is evident that the greater the good intended, the more is the sin of lying diminished in gravity.” Ibid., II-II, Q110, Art2.
[10] In the fictional The Princess Bride, we have an example of what this might be like: Wesley threatens Humperdink with “the pain,” a humiliating position where he loses his limbs, his tongue, his eyes, but is left with his ears so he could hear the cries of horror from those around him, “That is what ‘to the pain’ means. It means that I leave you in anguish, in humiliation, in freakish misery until you can stand no more…” William Goldman, The Princess Bride: 25th Anniversary Edition. (New York: Ballantine Books, 1998), 312. In this way, the physical harm intends such a desecration of the subject, they would despair of life itself, and protecting someone from this kind of harm would be to protect them from sin.
[11] ST II-II, Q110, Art2.
[12] ST II-II, Q110, Art2.
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Two things. To make it easier to see when I am quoting in this text, I decided to start making it bold. This will be more helpful in future installments of this series.
Secondly, I wanted to his part to be up soon after Part III since they relate to the same theme, and complement each other.
Part V will probably be put up next week, to make sure people have had enough time to read Parts I- IV, if they are interested in the series.
It appears to me, so far, that the following two opinions of Augustine, as described in the online Catholic Encyclopedia, still stand:
– A very sick man asks for information, and the truth might very well kill him. No response at all would confirm his worst fears, so either truth or silence might be deadly. Augustine says the response must be either the truth or silence, because it is better that the man die than be deceived
– “If a man is hid in your house, and his life is sought by murderers, and they come and ask you whether he is in the house, you may say that you know where he is, but will not tell: you may not deny that he is there.”
Admittedly, a person who told a lie under these circumstances would be committing a lesser evil than someone who told a malicious lie. But lying, the Catholic Church claims, is intrinsically evil, and there is never a case when it is permissible to do something intrinsically evil so that good may come of it.
David
First, there is much more of the text left; you will find something interesting when you get there (though I would ask how you read the section from Part III on the handmaidens who protected Moses, and Raab).
Second, you continue to ignore other aspects of the question itself. You are right in saying it is a sin, and no one should commit sin. But that doesn’t deal with concrete situations where the only options are sins. And what if one act is not considered instrinsically evil, but of greater moral evil, than one which is an instrinsic evil, but of far less moral evil (look to how Augustine discussed one who lies only to save someone else from harm). The issue then is not “can I lie to do some good,” but the question is, when given only bad options, how does one determine the choice to make? Failing to act can also be a sin. And so in the absolute sense, no one should sin; but the question remains, not in absolutes, but in real life situations, how is one to decide how to act. And your insistance that “it is an intrinsic evil” does not bring into account the whole issue.
Finally, this is the problem with people who use texts like the CE without the greater context of the question involved. I would recommend you pay attention and stop bringing up “it’s an intrinsic evil.” As has pointed out– yes, it is a sin, but the question of REAL action is, how does one make a decision when, whatever one decision one makes, will involved evil. THAT you have not addressed. And that is why it is not “doing evil so that good can come about,” but the question is, “how can you act, period” if you find yourself in a situation where there is a moral difficulty, and every way you think you could act, leads to its own sin. Not all situations are like that. But again, there are times where, for reasons we create or others create for us (such as democratic elections), where anything we do, will involve evil.
Henry,
You will have to be patient with me (not that you haven’t been), since I am approaching this as a very interested, but amateur, “Google theologian.”
I don’t believe I am citing the Catholic Encyclopedia as an authority. I am citing what the Catholic Encyclopedia says that St. Augustine said. I am assuming they got that right, so it’s my intention to be offering St. Augustine as an authority, not the Catholic Encyclopedia.
I personally find the concept of “intrinsic evil” unhelpful, and as I have said before, I would be more than willing to tell a willful untruth that harmed no one to prevent millions from starving to death in agony, in defiance what Cardinal Newman said. But we have just had “intrinsic evil” drummed into our heads by the American Bishops, so while I am a “heritic” on the matter, I don’t see how it can just be dismissed from Catholic thought.
I do fully understand that if forced to choose between two evils, one intrinsic and the other not intrinsic, one should choose the lesser of the two, which may certainly be the intrinsic evil.
David
If I’m ever impatient, well, it’s part of my foibles at times, and I would like to apologize for it. It’s certainly one area I have much room for improvement. Always.
The problem is, again, the misunderstanding of what “intrinsic evil” means. All it says is that if you do X, there will be a sin. No objective good intended by doing X will eliminate the sin. But it could mediate the culpability, guilt, and objective evil involved. The American Bishops, in their discussion of intrinsic evil, have been quite fair on the matter, though the people on the net have taken their words and equivocated on them. The point of intrinsic evil is to just say this act will always include some objective evil and sin, nothing else. The implications people make of that fact is problematic.
Most of Lombard that I’ve quoted shows he is following Augustine, so it helps also to put the Augustine quotes from the CE in context.
Finally, while in Part III there was a slight exposition on my position, when we get to some of the difficult questions Lombard (and others) raise, you will see the full force of what I am suggesting.
I would warn anyone not to treat theology via “google,” since I am sure you know the hermeneutic problems which gets involved with the texts you find online will cause problems understanding the whole tradition. People often get caught in one example, instead of looking at the greater tradition.
Henry Karlson:
“The list has ordered the lies according to how bad they are, with the first being the worst, and the eighth being of the least concern; however, one should flee all, because each kind involves sin, and all sin stands in opposition to God.”
Allow me the indulgence to present the story of St. Lawrence of Rome, which the following account from a priest of the Episcopal church rightly devoted a sermon in commemoration of his feast (while I would’ve preferred the one in the Catholic Encyclopedia, I have selected this one since it seemed the briefest while maintaining certain accuracy):
“Laurence was chief of the seven deacons of the congregation at Rome, who were in charge of administering the church budget, particularly with regard to the care of the poor. In the year 257, the emperor Valerian began a persecution aimed chiefly at the clergy and the laity of the upper classes. All Church property was confiscated and meetings of Christians were forbidden. The Bishop of Rome, (Pope St.) Sixtus II, and most of his clergy were executed on 7 August 258, and Laurence on 10 August.
Later accounts report that the Roman prefect, knowing that Laurence was the financial officer, promised to set him free if he would surrender the wealth of the Church. Laurence agreed, but said that it would take him three days to gather it. During those three days, he placed all the money at his disposal in the hands of trustworthy friends, and then assembled the sick, the aged, and the poor, the widows and orphans of the congregation, presented them to the prefect, and said, “These are the treasures of the Church.”
“These are the treasures of the Church.” St. Laurence, good deacon that he was, refused to allow the Church to become hostage to the agenda of the rich and the powerful. Laurence protected the Church’s wealth, not to maintain the status and privilege of the upper classes, but because it was vital to the well being of the poor in his community. He knew that if the Roman Empire confiscated the Church’s wealth, it would be the poor, the Church’s true treasure, who would suffer most. He gave his very life to demonstrate the truth of Jesus’ teaching that where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
So, the question that arises in connection with the above account of the good saint is that if all such lies are, indeed, intrinsic evils and stand in opposition to God, then why is it that a Saint of Christianity have been (rightly, in my own estimation) accorded such praise and admiration to the extent of even Sainthood, for a lie that he apparently told to deceive the Roman persecutors of his time?
Unless, of course, ‘lies’ such as these aren’t actually lies in the first place but that the present examination in our modern times that have come to deem them as such may be more so the result of a rather draconian rigorist view (as opposed to the traditional one, which may have very well lent to St. Lawrence having engaged in the mendaciolum concerning the Poor as being the actual treasures of the Church then because of the very validity of such an act being nothing less than righteous in the days of the early church where persecution ran rampant) that has taken hold of certain members of the Church Catholic.
Ari
This is a good story and one I would like to reflect upon when I work out the conclusion. One thing I will say — Lombard brings out questions like this, when we get further into his examination on the issue of lies. Of course, we could, for the sake of simplicity, follow through with St Augustine from Part III, and point out, that the lie, while a lie and a sin, was a minor infraction, and the intention is what was praised and good. Moreover, the praises of the saints does not mean we necessarily agree with all they did, or that, when they did good, it wasn’t a mixed good (look to St Jerome, who was once a great intellectual asset to the Church, and at times, a man of great charity, was also capable of some of the meanest, nastiest, acts I’ve ever known of a baptized Christian; he is a Saint despite the evil, and Sainthood is not a verification that all that was done was perfectly good).
So I would agree and point out to what I’ve suggest in Part III (and will get developed further): we act, in the real world, in a mixed way. Recognizing that is significant, for it keeps us humble. The rigorism of Pharisees is of the absolute, abstracted from the real world, and would allow for no prudence. But the position I hold, which says we can’t just dismiss the sin, nonetheless will also not dismiss the good (as again pointed out in Part III).
Henry Karlson,
The latter paragraph of your comments is perhaps why I welcome your series on Lombard, not only for its theological content (which, I hope, will intensify in subsequent installments), but also for its apparent practicality in consideration of real-world circumstances.
As to the subject of St. Lawrence of Rome itself, yes, I agree that praise of the saints does not consist in extolling such praise for every one of their acts, which might be a mixed bag of both the good and bad, since they were, after all, ‘human’.
However, one need to consider the fact that St. Lawrence is essentially a saint not in spite of the deception he orchestrated before his Roman Persecutors but, in fact, because of it.
Almost every account recounted of him, be it either Catholic or Protestant, it was this very act for which he is praised and, ultimately, as was then, made him (and even now is still considered thereby) a Christian Saint.
Ari
Clearly St Lawrence is a Saint because of his martyrdom, but it is also clear, his acts and deeds helped lead to it. It’s a complicated issue; but the early Church saw, if a martyrdom was true (and not provocation causing reaction, which of course, is easily a debateable point too), then the sins of one’s life is washed clean in the baptism of blood, and that guarantees their sainthood. It even allowed some Arians (before the official condemnation if Arius) to be declared saints.
While there will be theological elements in this treatise (it is Lombard, after all), the greater impart of the text is moral theology, which sometimes is more an issue of ethics than dogmatic theology. One of the things Lombard later brings up is the question of swearing a false oath; it is there we find him engaging the topic of “artful words,” and not anywhere else. It would seem, as I bring up, that Lombard would not consider it a lie if one says something artfully, when not under oath, so that it can be interpreted in different ways, as long as one intends to say something which can be interpreted properly. Perhaps that would be one way to defend Lawrence here; though I would say, it becomes more complex, since one can say he is being asked under oath, and therefore would fall under perjury. Which is why I think this is a good story to address, when I get to the conclusion. Keep up the questions! For they will help me focus.
Henry Karlson,
Many of the things you are raising in your last comments would be good items to address in later episodes (I am, in fact, instantly reminded of Black Friars as well as the events that took place at Westminster concerning our Hero, St./Sir Thomas More, before the commissioners, as well as his subsequent trial, which I’m sure, in light of our past exchange in a previous thread and noting your own apparent expertise concerning the man, you yourself are well aware and I hope will come to discuss even here).
As before, I shall very much look forward to them!