Never Tell a Lie

17 Shevat                February 15, 2025

Our sages were fence builders—not in the conventional sense, but metaphorically. The Torah presents many prohibitions, and our sages built fences around them to ensure we do not step over the line. For example, the Torah tells us not to write on Shabbat, and our sages prohibited even holding a pen on Shabbat.

They built these fences because the people in their era needed them. The earlier generations were scrupulous enough to avoid biblical prohibitions without the aid of additional fences. As time went on, Jews became laxer, which created the need for fences.

There was, however, one law for which the Torah itself created a fence. I speak of the fence the Torah created around falsehood. The Torah doesn’t merely say, don’t tell a lie. The Torah says, “From words of falsehood, distance yourself” (Exodus 23:7). With this, the Torah provided our sages with the model they used for other prohibitions. (Chidushei Harim, ad loc.)

A Common Sin

Lying is and always was a ubiquitous transgression; there are liars everywhere. (Haketav Vehakabalah, ad loc.) The Talmud asks why the letters for sheker (falsehood in Hebrew) are contiguous in the alphabet. The shin, kuf, and resh are in immediate proximity, whereas the letters of emet (Hebrew for truth) are scattered throughout the alphabet. Alef is the first letter, mem is the middle letter, and taf is the final letter. The Talmud answers it is because falsehood is common, but truth is rare. (Talmud, Shabbat 104a)

In fact, one way to understand the instruction to distance ourselves from falsehood is to distance ourselves from people who speak falsehood. (Bechor Shor Ad loc.) It is easy to slip into the habit of lying, especially when we are in the company of liars who mock those scrupulous about telling the truth.

Standing With G-d

Safeguarding the truth deserves a biblical fence for another reason. We learned earlier that emet (Hebrew for truth) comprises the alphabet’s first, middle, and last letters. The Talmud infers from this that the truth is G-dly, for G-d is the beginning, the middle, and the end of all things (Shabbat 55a and Rashi ad loc.). Thus, the Talmud declares that the truth is G-d’s signature.

Legal documents are validated by their signature. Promissory notes that are written perfectly but lack a signature are invalid. If the signature is missing, the entire document is useless and empty. Similarly, if we observe all the Jewish traditions but dismiss G-d’s signature—the Mitzvah to tell the truth—we delegitimate our entire observance.

Thus, Rabbi Zushe of Anipoli had a different understanding of the passage “From words of falsehood, distance yourself.” If you engage in words of falsehood, you distance yourself from G-d. You might have done everything else right, prayed properly, studied diligently, and observed scrupulously, but you are distant from G-d. You have the entire document, but you are missing the signature.

Rabbi Elimelech of Lizensk, Rabbi Zushe’s brother, once said that upon his passing, the Heavenly Hosts would ask him if he had studied the Torah adequately. He would reply that he did not. Though they would want to punish him for neglecting the Torah (somewhat), they would reward him for telling the truth.

Rabbi Elimelech and his brother likely learned about truth from the same teacher. They both understood that it is better to have the signature without the letter than the letter without the signature.

For The Sake of Peace

There are circumstances under which it is permissible to fudge the truth. One of them is to preserve peace and to preserve dignity (Talmud, Yevamot 65b). However, even in such situations, one should never lie outright. Even when you may tell an untruth, distance yourself from lying outright (Oznaim Latorah Exodus 23:7). The previous Rebbe of Lubavitch put it like this: though one must never tell a lie, there are circumstances under which one need not tell the entire truth.

Rabbi Zalman of Vilna, (known as Zalmele—the brother of the renowned Rabbi Eliyahu of Vilna) visited his dear friend. The friend was delighted to see him and invited him to join him for lunch. Rabbi Zalman refused, knowing his friend was impoverished and that there was likely insufficient food in the home.

The friend insisted, and Rabbi Zalman knew he would need to find an excuse. He told his friend that he was under the doctor’s orders to avoid such food. As he left, one of his colleagues asked Rabbi Zalman if he was ill. Rabbi Zalman assured him that he was not. The colleague expressed surprise that Rabbi Zalman would tell a lie since the Torah instructs us to distance ourselves from words of falsehood.

Rabbi Zalman replied that he did not tell a lie. Maimonides—a highly regarded doctor—ruled that one may not participate in meals when food is insufficient.  He was under Maimonides’ orders. Technically, Rabbi Zalman did not lie. But he created the impression that he was ill to avoid robbing his friend of dignity. This was an ingenious method of not telling a lie but not sharing the entire truth.

Easy To Justify

Despite the few circumstances under which one may share less than the truth (See Baba Metzia 23b for additional examples), it is critical that we not take license to lie; we must always err on the side of truth. For example, if a wealthy person takes an impoverished person to court over a paltry sum, the judge must offer an honest verdict. It would be tempting for the judge to award the sum to the poor person since the wealthy are required to support the poor. But that would be a lie. The right thing to do is issue an honest verdict and then encourage the wealthy litigant to donate. (See Shavuot 31a for other examples.)

They tell a story about Fiorello La Guardia, the legendary former mayor of New York. Before being elected Mayor, he served as a judge in night court. On one occasion, he sentenced a poor fellow to a one-dollar fine. The defendant objected that he could not afford the fine. La Guardia insisted that the law was the law and proceeded to issue the fine. Then, he pulled a dollar from his pocket and gave it to the defendant to help him pay the fine.

Falsehood Requires Truth

One of the ironies of falsehood is that it preys on honesty and depends on people telling the truth. If everyone lied, no one would believe the liar. The con artist needs most people to be honest to blend in among them and make people think he is sincere. He abuses our penchant for truth to get away with a lie.

There was a wealthy and influential person who often confided in Rabbi Yechiel Meyer of Ostrovtza. One of the rabbi’s friends was intensely curious to know this fellow’s secrets. One day, he presented himself to the rabbi and told him that his confidante sent him to continue the conversation on his behalf. He hoped to trick the rabbi into divulging the secret. The rabbi saw right through him and asked why he did it. The man replied that he lied to learn the truth. The rabbi observed, isn’t it ironic that your lies yearn for my truth?

In many ways, we live in a world of falsehood. Yet, we yearn for the truth. G-d is the only pure truth; his signature is truth. Falsehood leaves us feeling cold and uninspired (which is why the last two letters of sheker spell the word kar—cold in Hebrew). We lie despite our deepest yearnings and best judgments. Let’s live up to G-d’s expectations. Let’s make His signature our signature. Let’s tell the truth.