Psst . . . Let me tell you a secret

There’s a special place on my bookshelf for my personal journals. Each journal, with its decorative cover and fine-milled paper, is chosen with great care.

Why such fuss over a silly book? Because those delicate pages record my innermost thoughts, dreams, and prayers. Those volumes hold the deepest secrets of my heart – some will be shared with my husband, while others only with God.

They are good secrets, held dear, pondered over days, nights, and years. (Remember Mary, the mother of our Saviour, treasuring the secrets of God in her heart?)

But not all secrets are good. Some secrets are kept out of fear. Some come with shackles, imposed by sin. Some are dark, destructive, and cause great harm. We all keep certain things hidden from others – actions, attitudes, failings. These secrets, whether small or great, can corrode our souls. God wants us to confess them and bring them into the light of Christ’s healing and compassion.

As we compiled this month’s Herald exploring the topic of secret lives and hidden sin, we visited some rather dark places. We learned that secrets have a way of resisting; refusing to be uncovered. We examined our role as journalists, wondering which things to reveal in the pages of the magazine, and which (if any) to keep hidden.

We asked ourselves: when is non-disclosure appropriate – as a matter of privacy and protection – and when is exposé a better choice? This turned out to be a complicated question.

The world of publishing has a colourful history of secret-keeping. One of the most famous media secrets was the identity of Watergate informant, Deep Throat, now revealed as FBI member Mark Felt. The Washington Post kept its celebrated secret for more than 30 years in order to protect its government mole.

In the world of literature, secret identities or pen names can be helpful. They allow writers to explore new genres, or shield them from undue criticism and misinterpretation. Mary Ann Evans, who lived in a time when female authors weren’t widely read, wrote her literary classics under the pen name George Eliot.

Editors fiercely protect their right to withhold a writer’s identity from readers. Editors want to shelter authors and their families, but still want to communicate important (and sometimes controversial) ideas.

For example, the Herald staff decided to mask Faithful Skeptic’s identity (in our column Question of Faith) and withhold the author’s name in “Pick up your paddle and wave” in order to protect the privacy of family members, while still presenting challenging and relevant issues.

Readers ask valid and important questions about such decisions. Doesn’t secrecy violate the biblical command to be truthful in all things? What happens to accountability when authors are allowed to write anonymously?

We work hard to draw the line in appropriate places, to provide a level of protection and freedom for writers without giving them carte blanche.

In the end, we’ve tried to create a safe place in the Herald where writers can tell their stories with transparency and candour. We pray that readers will respond with open hearts and minds. We pray that the Spirit will lead us gently into discussions that may make us uncomfortable, but ultimately, will bring freedom.

For everything that is hidden or secret will eventually be brought to light and made plain to all.

—Luke 8:17 (NLT)