The pharaoh and the Hebrew midwives

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah, ‘When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.’ The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, ‘Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?’

The midwives answered Pharaoh, ‘Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.’

So God was kind to the midwives and the people increased and became even more numerous. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families of their own.

Some fifty years ago, when I was still quite a young Christian, the story of Corrie ten Boom was very popular. She was a member of a Christian Dutch family who hid Jews in their home, a jewellers’ shop, to keep them from the Nazis during the second world war. A true hero.

But even more heroic, many thought, was her sister Betsie. Betsie was adamant that, as a Christian, she would never tell a lie.

The story goes that, as the Gestapo one day raided their shop, the Jewish refugees got under the table, where they were hidden by a table-cloth. A soldier fiercely asked Betsie “Where have you hidden the Jews?” To which she looked him in the eye and said “Under the table”. Thinking that she was trying to make fools of them the soldiers didn’t look but went off elsewhere.

I wonder what you and I would have done? All right, Betsie got away with it, and all credit to her for her faith and courage. But suppose it hadn’t worked out that way…

That story raises the question, Can a Christian ever be justified in lying?

The Bible tells us that Jesus is “the way, the truth and the life” (John 14:6), and that the devil himself is “a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44). If anything in this world is sacred and holy, it is surely truth. So Betsie, surely, did what was right, and her courage was rewarded by God.

And yet…?

The Bible gives us stories (admittedly not many) where God’s people do lie, and seem to be blessed by him for doing so. A classic case is that of Rahab the prostitute and the Hebrew spies (Joshua 2), where in a situation rather like that of the ten Booms, Rahab lied but, like Betsie, got away with it.

All right, we might say, but Rahab wasn’t one of God’s people, so what would you expect? True, but in the Christian scriptures (Hebrews11:31) she is nonetheless praised for her faith.

And then there is the story of Shiphrah and Puah, the Hebrew midwives (Exodus 1). Not only did they bravely refuse to obey the Egyptian king when told to kill all the male children at birth, but then, when hauled up before him, told him what seems to have been a straight lie (verse 19). Whereupon God “was kind to the midwives”, and rewarded them with children of their own.

Complete truthfulness is certainly a Christian ideal, no doubt about that; but it isn’t always an entirely simple matter, is it?

Most of us, I’m sure, are happy to resort to what we might call “social” lies. “How are you today?” someone asks us, and we reply “Oh, not so bad, thanks”, even though we feel pretty grotty: we just don’t want to get involved in a discussion of our health, and the other person is only being kind, after all. “What do you think of my new hair cut?” someone else asks us, and we reply “Er, very nice”, though in truth it strikes us as pretty ghastly.

Those are trivial examples. But imagine another possibility, taken to an  extreme degree. You are walking through a wood and a small child comes tripping cheerfully along. Two minutes later a man appears clutching a blood-stained knife and asks “Which way did that child go?” Do you point him in the right direction? or in precisely the opposite direction?

To tell a lie is an evil. But are there times when it may be the lesser of two evils? – times when we have to choose, not between right and  wrong, but between two wrongs. You simply have no alternative.

The worlds of commerce, politics and public affairs generally furnish all sorts of examples. Wasn’t there once a British chancellor of the exchequer – a Christian, indeed – who was asked by a newspaper reporter if he intended to devalue the pound, said no, and then went on to do precisely that? He explained later that if he had told the truth at that particular moment it would have got into the headlines and caused a complete collapse of the currency. A British political party leader resigned just a year or two ago because he had come to the conclusion that no Christian could, in integrity, occupy that position. Was he right? (Sad, and rather worrying, that story, I would say.)

Go back to Shiphrah and Puah. Were they true heroes of faith for standing up to pharaoh even at the cost of lying? Or are they to be criticised for falling short of God’s ideal of perfect honesty? If I had to decide, I don’t think I’d be in any doubt which way I’d go.

Let’s thank God that most of the time we are not called on to make such decisions. But let’s also pray for those whose role in life makes it something they can’t avoid – especially in these dark days of “spin”, “fake news”, and sheer downright lies.

Lord God, you know the hearts and motives of each one of us, and you call us to be people of transparency and truth. Help me to work out this high ideal day by day, maintaining a clear conscience in every situation. Amen.