Lying: An Augustinian Theology of Duplicity

by Paul J. Griffiths

Most people would agree that compulsive lying is a "sickness." In his provocative Lying, Paul Griffiths suggests that consistent truth telling might evoke a similar response. After all, isn't unremitting honesty often associated with stupidity, insanity, and fanatical sainthood? Drawing from Augustine's writings, and contrasting them with the work of other Christian and non-Christian thinkers, Griffiths deals with the two great questions concerning lying: What is it to lie? When, if ever, should or may a lie be told? Examining Augustine's answers to these questions, Griffiths grapples with the difficulty of those answers while rendering them more accessible. With rhetorical savvy Augustine himself would applaud, Griffiths aims to "seduce" rather than argue his readers into agreement with Augustine. Augustine's historically significant, characteristically Christian, and undeniably radical thoughts on lying ignite Griffiths's searching discussion of this challenging and crucial topic. Marvelously erudite and energetic, Lying will draw Augustine enthusiasts, students of ethics, and anyone who is committed to living a more honest life.

Genres: Theology

254 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 2004

Reviews

[Stephen Sorensen · Rating 4 out of 5]

The writing style did not captivate me but the raw information was great. Similar to other books, I'll return to this one for the information the author collected, not the way he presented it.

I'd give the info collection 5 stars but the presentation maybe a 2 or 3.

[John Shelton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Paul Griffiths’ book on Augustine and the lie has been lucid, enlightening, even as its conclusions prove bone-chilling. It is well worth your time to read and wrestle with.

[David Pulliam · Rating 3 out of 5]

The first half was the best, I didn’t read the second half. Really good chapter on Augustines metaphysics and how lying fits in it.

[Brad · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was the best. Or was it?

[Haley Gray · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book made me think not just about lying, but about the way I use words, the way I trust God, and the way I try to manage outcomes.

Griffiths, leaning on the theology of Augustine, makes one thing very clear: lying is always wrong. There are no exceptions. Not to protect someone, not to avoid awkwardness, not even to save a life. I came in with my Rahab justification locked and loaded. But Griffiths shows that Scripture praises her faith, not her lie. That distinction really made me pause.

What makes this book so impactful is that Griffiths doesn’t treat lying like a technical issue or just bad behavior. He treats it as a spiritual problem rooted in pride and mistrust. He presents it is a lack of trust in God’s goodness and sovereignty.

One idea that hit me hard was that speech is a gift from God. When I lie, I misuse something God gave me to reflect Him. And even when I tell the truth in a roundabout or “slant” way as Emily Dickinson put it, I’m still doing it more for myself than for God.

Didn't care for the latter half of the book.
It compares Augustine’s view with other major thinkers like Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, and Nietzsche. Many of them allow for lying in certain situations. Augustine, however, stays firm. His ideas are rooted in a belief that truth is tied to who God is. That consistency gave weight to his argument in a way that felt less about rules and more about relationship.

One part I’m still wrestling with is Augustine’s belief that all sin is equal. While I understand that all sin separates us from God, I also see verses like Proverbs 6 that seem to rank certain sins as especially grievous. Griffiths doesn’t totally resolve this, and I don’t think he needs to. The point that stuck with me is this: lying, even the small kind, distances me from God. And if I take that seriously, then even my smallest lies matter more than I’ve allowed them to.

If you’ve ever justified a little lie for the sake of ease, comfort, or good intentions, this book will gently but firmly call you to more. It’s honest, it’s sharp, and it’s full of grace. Just be warned: Augustine is not here to make you feel better about cutting corners.