The Secret Life of Secrets
You’re at a coffee shop. Or a family BBQ. Or trapped at a church potluck you can’t politely escape.
A friend leans in. Their voice drops by exactly three decibels. Their eyes scan the room like they’re checking for surveillance cameras. Then they say the five most dangerous words in the English language:
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but…”
At that moment, something chemical happens in your brain. You know you should walk away. You even want to walk away. But suddenly your ears become high-definition satellite dishes.
They share the juicy morsel. For ten minutes, you feel special. Trusted. Chosen. Like you’ve been inducted into an elite inner circle.
Then you go home.
And the secret starts to feel less like insider information and more like spiritual food poisoning.
Because a thought creeps in that ruins everything: If they sold someone else's secret to you for the price of a latte, they're probably selling yours for a doughnut tomorrow.
The Bible has a word for this person.
The Merchant of Information
Scripture calls them a rakil — literally, a traveling merchant.
Most people think they're just "sharing." The Bible says they're trading. They use private information as currency to buy relevance, intimacy, or influence. They're not storytellers. They're secret brokers.
Think of the rakil as a social media influencer before the internet:
- No original content
- Just other people's business, repackaged and redistributed
- Always sound concerned
- Never technically lying
But somehow, trust erodes everywhere they go.
Because secrets were never meant to be currency. They were meant to be protected.
The Whisperer Who Calls It Prayer
Then there's the nirgan — the whisperer.
This is the person who uses secrecy as a wedge. They don't gossip loudly. They gossip strategically, often under the cover of spirituality.
"I'm only telling you this so we can pray for Bob's financial struggles."
Which, translated, means: Bob's gambling addiction, his marriage issues, and possibly his childhood trauma—now available for group discussion.
The nirgan doesn't shout. They whisper. And whispers are more dangerous because they feel intimate. They create alliances. They quietly divide friends who were never meant to be divided.
A Strategic Response
Proverbs 25:23 gives an underrated solution: the "angry look."
- Not a sermon
- Not a confrontation
- Just visible disapproval
Gossip needs oxygen. Take away the audience, and the fire dies fast.
You don’t have to be rude. Just don’t be impressed.
How to Silence Critics Without Saying a Word
Sometimes, you're not the listener. You're the target.
Someone is talking about you. Questioning your character. Writing a narrative you didn't consent to.
Peter's Strategy
Peter gives a frustrating but effective strategy: live so well that foolish talk sounds foolish (1 Peter 2:15).
In other words: you can't stop people from talking, but you can give them nothing to talk about.
The Example of Daniel
Daniel is the classic example. His enemies searched for dirt and found nothing. Not because he was perfect, but because he was:
- Predictable
- Faithful
- Consistent
Living with integrity makes you a boring target for gossip. Eventually, the critics move on. You don’t provide any plot twists.
The Law of Kindness vs. Brutal Honesty
Modern culture worships "brutal honesty."
Some people wear it like a badge of honor: "I'm just saying what everyone is thinking."
Which usually means: I haven't filtered this thought through wisdom, loyalty, or usefulness.
A Better Framework
The Bible offers: Torath-Chesed — the Law of Kindness. In the New Testament, it pairs with chrestotes (usefulness).
Biblical kindness isn't flattery. It's loyal and helpful.
Ask yourself:
- If what you're saying is true but not useful → pause
- If it's useful but not loyal → stop
The Real Problem
In marriage, "brutal honesty" tends to emphasize the brutal and forget the honesty. In friendships, it burns down homes for warmth and then wonders why no one feels safe.
Kindness builds. Brutality exposes.
The Slanderer: When Truth Is Used as a Weapon
Then there is the most destructive figure of all: the dibbah.
This one is harder to spot because the slanderer often traffics in facts, not lies.
That's what makes them dangerous.
A dibbah doesn't invent stories. They curate them. They select true details, strip them of context, and present them with just enough concern to sound responsible.
They don’t say, “Let me ruin this person.” They say, “I’m just being honest.” Or worse, “I’m just asking questions.”
Biblically, slander isn't defined by whether something is true. It's defined by intent and setting:
- Rebuke: Face-to-face, aims at restoration
- Slander: Behind-the-back, aims at control
Same information. Different heart.
The slanderer wants influence without accountability. They want the power of exposure without the risk of direct conversation. So they narrate someone’s flaws to everyone except the person who could actually address them.
This is why Scripture treats slander as violence. It doesn't merely pass information. It reshapes reputations. And reputations, once damaged, rarely heal cleanly.
In modern settings, slander often disguises itself as:
- “Constructive criticism” with no path to correction
- “Transparency” that exposes instead of protects
- “Concern” shared with everyone except the person involved
The Tragedy
The tragedy is that slander feels productive. It feels like truth-telling. But it never builds. It only destabilizes.
If gossip is social currency and whispering is relational sabotage, slander is demolition work.
Scripture is unambiguous: if the goal isn't restoration, the speech isn't righteous, no matter how accurate it sounds.
From Secret Brokers to Safe Harbors
The goal isn't to stop talking. It's to start building.
To move from being secret brokers to safety harbors—people who can be trusted with information, pain, and truth without turning it into social currency.
The Practice
Here's a small, awkward, soul-saving practice:
The next time someone says, "I probably shouldn't tell you this…"
- Smile
- Pause
- Say: "Then you probably shouldn't."
It'll be uncomfortable for about three seconds.
But your conscience, your relationships, and your reputation will thank you for a lifetime.