Integrity. What is it? We all want it, if it doesn’t cost too much. We all respect it in others, as long as they don’t rub it in our faces. But what is it?
Psalm 15 is about integrity, a serious moral purpose that structures one’s life. Like Psalm 24’s “who may ascend the Lord’s hill?” it opens by asking who can abide in the presence of God. That is, it begins with a sense of connection between a person’s character and his or her proximity to the Almighty, as well as, conversely, the belief that the part of the world that spends the most time with God will be inhabited by people of integrity. Or put yet another way, the place in which worship occurs (“your holy mountain”) is also the place in which personal character gets built.
The psalmist goes on to describe the person of integrity as the one (1) who proceeds “perfectly” (tamim in Hebrew), which seems to mean “maturely” or “appropriately,” rather than flawlessly. Think of the Olympic diver who nails all the twists and flips and enters the water upright and with almost no splash. That’s living tamim. This person also (2) “does what is right,” or “does righteousness,” or perhaps even “practices justice.” The person who stands before God orients her or his life toward other human beings in ways that reflect the just nature of God. And (3) this person speaks truth in his heart. A curious turn of phrase. It is not enough to speak truth with one’s mouth. Not only is there always the question of just what the truth is, and when it might be appropriate to withhold some part of it, but the more serious problem is that truth-telling can become crass or calculating when it loses its moorings in the character of the truth-teller. Hence the harder task of telling truth to oneself. Such honesty is a prerequisite of integrity.
The psalmist then turns to negative attributes of integrity: the virtuous, spiritually mature person avoids slander, plotting with or against a neighbor, or anything shameful. A notion of honor seems to be in play. The truth is that this concept deserves a lot more consideration than it receives in our modern culture. Honor is a word that has fallen on hard times, but it provides part of the glue that holds people together. Our need and desire to be respected by others causes us to seek morally valid lives. Honor displaces shame, just as it displaces self-seeking. Without a sense of honor, we are left only with force. (By the way, if you’re interested in this idea, you might like reading James Bowman’s book Honor: A History [New York: Encounter, 2006]). The psalmist calls us to lives of honor.
Then verses 4-5 talk about relationships. The person of integrity chooses relationships well. This for me is the hardest point to be clear about. On the one hand, we Christians must love all and be merciful to all. Like God, we must not be respecters of persons. On the other hand, we seek relationships with others who “fear the Lord” and reject what is shameful. We use whatever power and wealth we have for good, not operating on the basis of fear or favor. We hold in contempt any behavior based on dishonest transactions (“He does not take a bribe against the interests of the innocent”) and are disturbed by anyone, especially leaders, who appeal to fear, hatred, suspicion, or any unworthy human behavior or attitude.
Does the psalmist overdo this attitude? Some people would find him or her a bit too aristocratic or hifalutin. Maybe so. But I don’t think so. It makes more sense to me to read this psalm as a call to clarity of purpose. We Christians ought not indulge our passions for superiority, our longing to succeed by helping others fail, our desire to wallow in fear and hatred. These are all human passions, and as humans we are subject to them. But on the other hand, as people who have been privileged to worship the God of all the earth, we dare not allow them to master us. Something to think about.