How honest are you before God and other people?

As I write, much of the news is dominated by Trump and Ukraine. Of course it is. But just behind these another story rumbles on. It’s about the enhanced CVs of some our politicians.

Rachel Reeves, the Chancellor, has come unstuck in a number of ways. The latest of these is her entry in Who’s Who where she says she contributed to a prestigious economic journal. It turns out that she did indeed contribute to an economic journal: just not that one, but one with a similar sounding title. Sinister? Or simple error?

Jonathan Reynolds, the Business Secretary, seems to have been at it too. He has claimed for some time to be a solicitor, but has just had to retract that claim on the insistence of the Solicitors Regulatory Authority who pointed out he was only ever an unqualified trainee.

And it’s not just politics. Again in the news, I’ve just read about Arvind Balan, the Finance Director of a FTSE 100 company, John Wood Group, who claimed to be a Chartered Accountant, when he was in fact in possession only of a less well-regarded qualification. He has had to resign.

Should we be worried about these embellishments? And do they have anything to teach us about the gospel? Maybe, and yes – in that order.

It’s easy to make simple mistakes. I’ve done it myself. I imagine we all have. But there’s a difference between a simple mistake and a wilful misrepresentation, especially – as is the case with Mr Balan – where that misrepresentation has secured you a job. It seems to me that we are right to expect, and even demand, a higher standard from our leaders.

The trouble is seeing into their hearts. That’s not easy. If someone says “it’s just a mistake”, how can we possibly evaluate such a response? Age has taught me to be reasonably generous in these cases, especially when it’s clear that it hasn’t necessarily gained someone an advantage. On the whole, it’s a happier life when our default position is to be generous rather than grumpy.

But there are gospel truths at work here. I’ve just finished reading Adam Ramsey’s excellent little devotional book Truth on Fire. What a scorcher! Adam connects deep, profound truths about the character of God with our everyday lives. It’s insightful pastoral theology. In one chapter on God’s omniscience, Adam applies God’s all-knowingness to honesty.

Think about it. God knows all about us. He knows every nook and cranny of our hearts. He knows every evil deed, every warped thought, every wilful misrepresentation. If we reflect on how God knows all things, we cannot help be honest before Him. In fact, more than this, we don’t need to be anything but honest before Him, because knowing all that He does about me, He still loves me, He still cherishes me, He has still “lavished his grace upon me” and called me His child.

What a relief not to have to pretend or say I’m something I’m not. The seeing eye of God is not a burden to me, it’s a release. And here is the remarkable thing. I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not to others. If God has loved me and given His Son for me, I can be honest with others about my struggles and failures.

I don’t need to misrepresent myself. It’s easy to misstep here. “How’s your week been?” “Fine”, I reply, when it’s been anything but. “How are your quiet times?” says a friend and I give the impression that things are ticking along nicely, when in fact prayer has been a battle.

The glory of the gospel means I can be honest before the God who sees all things, and yet loves me. And it enables me to be honest with others. I don’t need to embellish my spiritual CV (or indeed, my actual CV). The gospel says “you are as bad as anything,” but then counters this truth with “you are as loved as it is possible to be.”

What a happy place to be. God knows, so let’s be honest with one another.