True, kind, necessary?

Set a watch before my mouth, O Lord, and guard the door of my lips; let not my heart incline to any evil thing. - Psalm 141:3

.I could not stand Doug. He was loud, socially inept, and just plain obnoxious. My friends couldn’t stand him either. I’m sure we didn’t hide our feelings very well. I’m pretty sure we didn’t try. He was often the topic of conversation when we got together. We could rant for what seemed like hours on end about how much he bugged us. In a way, we relished being able to dislike him so much, and we fed off each other.

You might think this went on in jr. high or high school. I’m embarrassed to admit that no, we were well into our late twenties at the time, and, worse than that, it went on at church. Twenty years later I’m ashamed that I ever thought that was okay.


The other day, I told someone that one of the differences about my life before and after ordination was that I thought I could get away with the aforementioned behavior. Back then I thought that I was my own person, and that I could run around in the ugliness hampster wheel as much as I wanted.


As a priest, loving everyone is in my job description. It’s part of my ordination vows: Will you undertake to be a faithful pastor to all whom you are called to serve, laboring together with them and with your fellow ministers to build up the family of God (emphasis mine)?  Deacons and bishops make similar promises in their respective vows too. That little three letter word “all” encompasses not just some or even most. It’s an ever-expanding circle. If Doug walked into St. Dunstan’s next Sunday, it most certainly would include him. Getting ordained didn’t make me an angel (most people  figured that out a long time ago) but it did make me take things like that seriously. I’m not perfect at it, I mess up a lot, but I keep trying, and I’ve found the more I work at it, the easier it becomes. In fact, the more I work at it, the less work it becomes. Really.


So here’s the irony: In truth, in all my life I have never been my own person. By virtue of my baptism, I’ve been marked as Christ’s own for ever. Not only that, by our baptisms we’re all ordained into a life of ministry in Christ, and the vows we make include this: Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?  So I never really was free to, as the kids say these days, hate on Doug. It’s part of our fallen human nature to enjoy being stinky, but it’s not part of our calling as children of God.


So how do we be human and be kind? There are ways to help us learn not to be stinky, or hateful, or unkind. One way which I find myself coming back to over and over again is this: before we say something about someone else, or think ugly thoughts, we can ask ourselves: “Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?”


I didn’t come up with this idea myself. These three questions have been around for ages. They’re attributed to many different sources, including Socrates, Quakers, and Buddhists. It was mentioned recently in a Wall Street Journal article: “Before You Gossip, Ask Yourself This ...”by Jeffrey Zaslow. The article talks about the efforts some adults are making to help young people learn how to communicate in ways that are kind and compassionate, especially in this age of Facebook and My Space. In his article he relates this story:


I've never forgotten a letter I once received from a reader, who told me about going to a dance when she was a teen. "My mother was waiting for me when I came home," she wrote. "But instead of telling her I had a great time, I regaled her with a scathing description of some incredible nerd who'd tried to dance with me. In essence, I said that this guy had a lot of nerve to expect anyone to dance with a person as weird and ugly as he was.


"When I finished my tirade, my mom said, 'You know, this boy you find ugly and weird is some mother's pride and joy. She waited for him to come home, just like I waited for you, hoping to hear he'd had a nice time at the dance. But when he came home, she saw his face, she knew someone hurt him, and it broke her heart. So the next time a boy asks you to dance, before you turn him down or make fun of him, just remember: Every boy is some mother's son.' "


Not only is every boy some mother’s son, but everyone we encounter is a child of God, even the ones who may get on our nerves or irritate us. It’s human nature to get annoyed, but next time it happens to you, take a moment to ask God to help you be kind and compassionate, patient and understanding. God knows we need help with these things, but by the act of regularly asking for it, we help keep our minds on the right side of the Golden Rule. And next time you’re tempted to say or think something ugly about someone else, ask yourself: “Is it kind, is it true, is it necessary?”