There is a dilemma when one finds that what he had been told is not true. A flash of anger can surge from the conviction that he had been lied too, or a flush of embarrassment surround the awkward recognition of having fallen for falsehood. Which is worse, misplaced trust, or gullibility?
False information or instruction can spring from a range of circumstances. Outright mendacity is one of them, of course, as the false information is a lie intended to deceive for reasons known to the liar. But misunderstanding, misapprehension, or misremembering, all common human failings, can lead one who does not intend to deceive to pass on a bad bit of information.
What is saddest, I think, is when the untrue assertion is made with a clear conscience by people who accepted as true something that was presented to them by people whom they trusted, whom they had no reason not to trust, and whom they were forced to trust because there was no alternative. This is the result when parents, teachers, leaders – people who carry authority and responsibility – share as truth something that is false.
Yes, this can be a long chain of deception, as the parents and leaders received bad information from those who had responsibility for them, perhaps even over several generations. How to respond when a falsehood like this is discovered? Is it wrong to blame the false teachers, or should one excuse them since the lie did not originate with them? Where is the origin? Where is the malice?
When a widely-accepted falsehood is discovered to be false by one who had accepted it or by many, the question arises: where did this originate? In error, or in mendacity? Rather than rage against the injustice, a careful (and charitable) person will examine its provenance, following backward the steps by which it was handed on, whether over time, across generations, or over distance, throughout a population. It would be unjust to blame someone for sharing false information if that person had received it in good faith, unless due diligence or even cursory critical examination would have revealed it to be false. Not only honesty but also charity demand that the source be identified even if the motive cannot be fixed.
When questions of great truths arise, as Catholics we know and can examine the authorities, the sources, to ascertain what is true. We can compare what someone presents us as true with, for example, The Catechism of the Catholic Church. We can then, in turn, examine that same Catechism for truth and accuracy by shining on it the light of greater authority: Scripture and the Tradition savored and reflected in two millennia of handing on the totality of Divine Revelation. These are conveniently referenced and indexed in the back of the Catechism, in case anybody wonder, “Where did they get this?” But there are also the sources themselves, published, available, and studied. Of course that’s a lot of time, research, and effort, which is why we prefer to go to somebody we can trust to present these things to us truthfully, and with understanding. “Father, what does the Church teach about this?”
But in more mundane matters outside the deposit of faith, more commonly discussed and less commonly checked, how do we know? What can we do to check current events or history, personalities and biographies, medical opinions and diagnoses? Whom do we trust, whom do we believe? Does anybody have that level of authority?
In these matters, the amount of time, research, and effort to verify everything we want to know is staggering and maybe even impossible. We prefer to go to somebody we can trust; in fact, we need people we can trust to tell us the truth. We need somebody who will neither originate lies, nor hand on lies he received.
These are important questions to ask when we discover the falsehood of something that we had believed to be true, along with many other people, even most people. Where is the origin? Where is the malice? While we may not be able to correct or reprimand the originator, at least we can avoid everything that comes from that source, and all information or advice based on that falsehood, and warn others.
The first step is identifying whom we can NOT trust. The Father of Lies is at work and has many helpers. Which is worse, misplaced trust, or gullibility? You know the old maxim: fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
Monsignor Smith
The image is a detail of Francesco Sassetti and His Son Teodoro, ca. 1488, portrait by Domenico Ghirlandaio.
