FEW sermons have stayed in my mind years after I heard them. A rare example is one preached by Christopher Lewis when he was Dean of St Albans. The sermon was a response to one of the corporate financial scandals of the early 2000s.

I remember the Dean looking out from the pulpit and scanning the congregation. Was there no one, he asked, no one prepared to confront dishonesty, no one prepared to raise a moral question, no one prepared to put themselves at risk for the sake of integrity? Those were probably not his exact words, but what stayed with me was the genuine anguish, even despair, in the question.

That sense of anguish came back to me on 4 September as Sir Martin Moore-Bick’s final report on the Grenfell Tower disaster was published (News, 6 September). There were no surprises: most of the facts were already known. But what was shocking was the reminder of the deliberate manipulation of information by the three main suppliers of the tower’s cladding: Kingspan, Arconic, and Celotex — clever, tech-sounding names that turned out to be covers for dishonesty.

Perhaps worst, and most sickening, were the much-quoted email exchanges in which individual employees joked about the way in which false claims were made about the fire-resistant capacity of their insulation materials — “All lies, mate. . .”, and, perhaps worst of all, “I think [they] are getting me confused with someone who gives a dam [sic]. . .” Dean Lewis’s words came back into my mind: was there no one who questioned this cynicism? Seventy-two people died because not one of these cheerfully dismissive executives possessed a shred of moral imagination.

For too long, we have assumed that the bad behaviour of individuals could be ironed out by following correct procedures; so, we put in checks and counter-checks, and try to legislate against malpractice. But procedures work only if those following them are honest to start with. For far too long, what has been missing in our common life is trust, and lack of trust is as toxic as faulty cladding.

Together with Dean Lewis’s sermon, the disaster has reminded me of the story of Zedekiah and Micaiah at the end of the first book of Kings. Zedekiah was a court prophet who dishonestly prophesied a good outcome to the King of Israel’s campaign against the Aramaeans. But Micaiah exposed him as the channel of a lying spirit sent by God.

The God of truth cannot prevent tragedy that humans bring about through their own wickedness. Too many of our politicians, business leaders, and public servants have imagined that the way to economic prosperity involves being economical with the facts. The terrible image of Grenfell Tower, ablaze and shrouded in toxic smoke, is a salutary reminder that the most devastating incendiary device is the lying human heart.