Be Yourself

“Ever since I was a little kid, I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be Billie Widdledon, and Billie Widdledon didn’t even like me. I walked like he walked—I talked like he talked—I signed up for the high school he signed up for. “Which was when Widdledon changed. He began to hang around Herby Vandeman. He mixed me up! I began to walk and talk like Billie Widdledon, walking and talking like Herby Vandeman. “And then it dawned on me that Herby Vandeman walked and talked like Joey Haverlin. … And Joey Haverlin walked and talked like Corky Sabison! So here I am, walking and talking like Billie Widdledon’s imitation of Herby Vandeman’s version of Joey Havelin, trying to walk and talk like Corky Sabison! “And who do you think Corky Sabison is always walking and talking like? Of all people—Dopey Wellington—that little pest who walks and talks like me!” (Jules Feiffer)

We're Expected To Judge . . . Righteously

Gone are the days when there were commonly accepted boundaries between right and wrong, moral and immoral. Society, in response to demands of vocal and often well-funded minorities, now asks for -- no, make that demands --that we toss out our old moral compass and develop their most treasured virtue: tolerance.

You know their arguments: "Choosing our own lifestyle is a basic civil right. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone else, what's the big deal?" And then they unload on us the biggest guilt trip of all: "And who are you to set yourself up as a judge?"

Even in church settings -- my church included -- there are those who say we shouldn't judge one another, being quick to quote Jesus: "Judge not, that ye be not judged" (Matthew 7:1). Sorry if this bursts your tolerance bubble, but that's not what He really said. In the LDS edition, if you look at the footnote for that verse you'll see that the Joseph Smith Translation reads as follows: "Judge not unrighteously, that ye be not judged; but judge righteous judgment."

He does not expect us to quietly sit by and endure the dishonorable, immoral, and sometimes downright stupid behavior of others. I think some of our members are like the young woman in this true story told by a professor of religion at BYU:

Several years ago one of my students asked if she could visit with me after class. She had been with me for two semesters of Book of Mormon, and she was, frankly, a delight to have in class. The light of the gospel radiated from her countenance. She came in to tell me good-bye. I said, "Well, I'll see you next year, won't I?" She shook her head and said, "No, I won't be coming back to BYU."

I asked why. She said, "Brother Millet, I'm tired. No, it's more than that -- I'm worn out. I haven't slept for almost a year now." Was she tired of studying? I asked. Wouldn't a summer break do the trick? No, that wasn't it.

She explained that her roommates, all returned missionaries, had their boyfriends over each night until the early morning hours. More specifically, there was never a place for her to sleep, inasmuch as two of her roommates had their male companions in bed with them every night.

I was stunned. Shocked. Sickened. "Well, why didn't you tell someone? Why didn't you mention it to the landlord or the bishop?" Her answer was very revealing, and it also highlights a significant problem that many in this generation face.

She said, "But wouldn't that be judging them?" We then had a long, long discussion about what it means to judge righteous judgment . . . In our day, it seems as though the most serious flaw a person can have is to be intolerant. One would rather be immoral, unclean, degenerate. But whatever you do, don't dare be intolerant. (Robert L. Millet, A Call to Holiness, in Selected Writings of Robert L. Millet).

Yesterday I heard a religious commentator make the following statement on the radio: "God loves us all. And He or She loves us just as we are." I don't disagree about Him loving us, but make no mistake -- saying that God loves us is not the same as saying God tolerates whatever we say, do, listen to, watch, wear, think, or whatever lifestyle we promote. He willingly allows us the use of our agency to choose for ourselves, but that doesn't mean He doesn't have standards of right and wrong that He expects us to live by. It is by those standards that we shall ultimately be judged -- and judged "righteously."

Sadly, even at that day there will be those who will boldly say to His holy face: "Who are you to judge me?"

I Almost Kissed Her!

I'm in the check-out line with my ginormous box of Frosted Flakes (because it's on sale, that's why!) -- and other "necessities." The lady in front of me is putting her items on the conveyor. Seeing a bottle of wine in the mix the cashier asks for photo i.d. The woman, laughing, shows her driver's license photo and says, "I don't look like I'm 54, do I?" (What's the cashier going to say? "Well, ma'am, actually you look considerably older"?) The woman is now on a roll. "I work out, and I run marathons. I even climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro when I was 52!" Then she turns around and looks at me and my Frosted Flakes and says, quite seriously, "I can tell you work out too." Made this old man's day.

Our Challenge: To Walk the Walk

Our church's annual General Conference concluded 30 minutes ago. Over the past two days, we've listened to many hours of instruction and counsel from our leaders. In some of that counsel I recognized specific answers to current concerns, problems, and stresses in my life. But now comes the challenge. Now that it's over, will I simply turn off the broadcast and go right back to doing what I was doing before it all began? Or will I take time to turn off the noises and distractions around me and seriously ponder what I've heard? Will I make specific plans to change my behavior? Or will it be "business as usual" as described in this little poem:

The sermon was ended.

The priest had descended.

Much delighted were they,

But preferred their old way.

The proof of how firmly I believe what was taught is to be found in my actions, not by how much I praise the speakers. Do I walk the walk? Or do I simply talk the talk?

Here is a story of one who walked the walk:

"On the night of December 29, 1876, the Pacific Express, a two-engine, 11-car train, was heading west through Ohio during a heavy snowstorm. Among the passengers and crew on board were Philip Paul Bliss and his wife, Lucy. Philip Bliss was a Christian songwriter and gospel singer. He had married Lucy 17 years earlier after coming to love her for her Christian virtues. At approximately 7:30pm, while crossing a trestle bridge over the Ashtabula River, the bridge collapsed, sending the eleven railcars 75 feet to the river below. As water pressed up from the broken ice, the wooden cars, heated by kerosene stoves, ignited. According to an eyewitness, as reported in the Chicago Tribune the next day, when the train fell, Mr. Bliss freed himself and succeeded in crawling through a window. He turned around to pull his wife free but found she was pinned in the framework of the seats. Rather than escape, he devotedly stayed by her side in an attempt to free her before they were both engulfed and consumed in the flames. Ninety other people were killed or later died in the Ashtabula River railroad disaster, the worst such incident in American history to that point in time." (Brad Neiger, "To Act in Holiness Before the Lord," BYU devotional, April 4, 2006.)

It may interest you to know that, although Philip Bliss was not a Latter-day Saint, three of his songs appear in our current hymnbook. At the end of this afternoon's conference session, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang one of them: "More Holiness Give Me." It is clear that Philip Bliss didn't just talk the talk.

I pray for the strength to walk the walk the Lord expects of us.