Tell the truth and shame the devil.
In the words of François Rabelais comes the stirring exhortation: “Tell the truth and shame the devil.” These words strike like a sword against the shadows of deceit, calling men and women to stand boldly in the light. They remind us that the act of speaking the truth is not only a moral duty, but also a weapon that exposes evil, scattering its power as dawn scatters the mist. The devil, in this saying, is not merely the ancient adversary of scripture, but the embodiment of lies, corruption, and cowardice that lurks within the hearts of men and within the systems of the world. To speak truth is to strip the devil of his cloak, to unmask him, and to bring him to shame before all.
This phrase, rooted in the wisdom of the Renaissance, was given new breath by Rabelais, yet it carries echoes far older. From the prophets who rebuked kings to the martyrs who defied tyrants, the ancients have known that truth-telling is an act of holy rebellion against the forces of darkness. Lies thrive in silence and complicity, but the tongue that dares to utter the unvarnished word is like a trumpet that makes the devil tremble. Rabelais, a man of letters and wit, knew that laughter and honesty often wound falsehood more deeply than fear and trembling. Thus he exhorted: do not merely whisper the truth in secret—declare it, and by doing so, cast shame upon the deceiver.
History is filled with examples of this boldness. Recall the moment in 1955 when Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on a segregated bus in Montgomery, Alabama. Her action was more than defiance; it was the quiet proclamation of a simple truth—that human dignity belongs to all, not to some. The world expected silence, but Parks spoke through her stillness, and in doing so she shamed the devil of racial injustice. Though she was arrested, her act sparked a movement that changed the destiny of a nation. Here was Rabelais’ wisdom alive: tell the truth and shame the devil, even if the devil snarls and strikes in the moment, for he cannot withstand the enduring power of truth.
The essence of this teaching is courage. For it is not always easy to speak plainly. The devil wears many masks: fear of rejection, fear of punishment, fear of losing comfort. Many would rather keep silent, hoping to avoid the storm. But know this: silence is the devil’s ally. To tell the truth, even when your voice quivers, is to declare war against falsehood. And when you stand firm, you summon others to do the same, until the devil is surrounded not by silence, but by a chorus of voices that shame him utterly.
Yet beware—truth is not a weapon to be used recklessly. It is not the license to wound with cruelty or to clothe malice in the guise of honesty. Truth must be spoken with clarity, with courage, and with purpose: to uplift, to liberate, to expose what is dark so that the light may enter. If wielded with pride or arrogance, it loses its purity and ceases to shame the devil, becoming instead a tool of the very evil it sought to fight. Therefore, the wise one learns to balance boldness with humility, and justice with compassion.
The lesson is clear: live as a bearer of truth. Do not shrink from it in the face of lies. Do not trade it away for approval or ease. Speak it in your family, even when silence would be simpler. Speak it in your work, even when compromise beckons. Speak it in your community, when injustice festers in the shadows. To act thus is to be a warrior not with sword or spear, but with the shining blade of honesty, which leaves the devil powerless and ashamed.
And so, practical counsel follows: when you are tempted to hide behind falsehood, pause and remember Rabelais’ call. Ask yourself—does my silence feed the devil? Does my dishonesty give him ground? If the answer is yes, then speak, and let your words be the chains that bind him. Practice daily truthfulness in small things: in your dealings with friends, in your work, in your promises. By training your tongue in these lesser matters, you will be ready when the greater trials come, when the weight of truth demands your voice.
For at the end of days, all lies shall fade, and only truth will remain, blazing like the sun. Let your life, then, be aligned with that eternal flame. For when you tell the truth and shame the devil, you do not merely win a momentary battle—you join the timeless triumph of light over darkness, and your words become part of the eternal song of justice.
LHLinh Ha
This quote by Rabelais seems to emphasize the strength of truth in the face of evil or deception. It makes me wonder about the nature of the devil here—does it symbolize lies, manipulation, or just general wrongdoing? If so, is the act of telling the truth enough to counteract these forces? It makes me think about how the truth can shift power dynamics, but I’m also curious if it’s always enough to bring about positive change.
HGNguyen hoang gia
Rabelais’ idea that telling the truth can ‘shame the devil’ speaks to the power of honesty in overcoming wrongdoings. But I also wonder how practical this is in real life. Are there situations where we need to balance truth with compassion, especially if the truth might be too painful for someone to hear? Can we always ‘shame the devil’ with truth, or are there times when silence or tact is a better approach?
DAD.y August_
This quote by Rabelais makes me reflect on the consequences of truth-telling. Telling the truth may bring justice, but it can also cause discomfort or harm in some situations. Is truth always the best choice? What happens when telling the truth results in more harm than good? This quote seems to be urging us to be bold, but is there a point where honesty crosses a line into unnecessary cruelty or conflict?
HBHoa Bui
‘Shame the devil’ is an interesting expression—it suggests that truth is something that can not only expose lies but also humiliate or weaken them. I wonder if Rabelais is implying that truth has a moral authority, almost as if it’s inherently righteous. But is truth always as clear-cut as it seems? Can it be more complicated, and are there times when the truth isn’t so simple or pure?
BNBang Nguyen
I find this quote quite empowering, as it implies that the truth is a weapon we can use against deception or evil. Telling the truth may be uncomfortable or risky, but it seems like Rabelais is encouraging us to face that discomfort for a higher good. But does this mean that truth is always the right path? Could there be instances where telling the truth is more harmful than helpful, especially in delicate situations?