I have recently wondered why there seems to be a preoccupation among moderns to be unique. There is great irony in this that I have yet to comprehend – mass culture engulfs us all in the same way, to think, act, and consume like our peers. Yet, it also encourages us to be different and special. Perhaps we are all bounded within an inescapable and inherently circular frame, and doing one or the other only leads us back to square one. This is an issue that plagues both Christians and non-Christians alike. But trends may come and go, and the kinds of shoes, bags, and clothing go from long to short and back to long again, from bright to dull and back to bright again. I realised that no matter how ‘differently’ someone may fashion himself or herself, I’ve always remained attracted to only one kind of person. And that kind of person is the kind that is completely indifferent to appearances.
You know, if you really want to be different, maybe you should focus on your character. Because, it seems like this is the only thing the modern world isn’t concerned with. One could imagine that it is the godly character in the other that drew Hudson Taylor and Maria Dyer to one another – so much so they overlooked and declined the proposals of many other missionaries. But after they finally got married, they returned to England for a while; and having spent so many years in China, their clothes became outdated – yes, even in the 19th century! Hudson Taylor was dressed in Chinese garb, and Maria looked “attractive but unfashionable with her bonnet worn ‘off the head’, not at all the vogue in England in the 1860s.” Hudson’s sister Louisa was described as thrilled to finally see Maria, but was quite concerned about her unfashionable clothes. But, you know, for some reason, I find myself very attracted to people like that. Maybe because they do not go about their lives to make statements; their waking thoughts are not conditioned by the ways of the world. Such people make me curious about their beliefs, their principles – their character. In fact, it almost is a sure demonstration of their character.
Perhaps if we all lived in a homogenous society, we would better be able to appreciate the work of Christ in us, how He has disciplined, moulded, and forged our character. Perhaps if we all looked alike and dressed in more mundane ways, didn’t have too many choices, we’d be able to communicate with one another on a deeper level, with less envy and less distractions to the eye. Perhaps we’d be more discerning with our use of time, and the people we hang out with. Presumably we would cease to spend time with people who are merely ‘friendly’, but instead with people who are worth dying for. Tragically, we are today less interested in character, but more interested in appearing to be creative, to have our own signature, ‘identity’, to be ‘known for’, to transcend our limitations – to have our uniqueness transcend the sum total of our qualities. The modern is quite obsessed with trying to distinguish himself as a premier work of art – whether by his transcript or by the photos he takes, the lifestyle he leads, the style he adopts, and the vibe he emits. This is the frustration of living in a consumer society.
Today, we idolise geniuses and bohemians. We make movies about great historical men and women not because of their virtue or character, but because of their powers that led to an astonishing outcome. Maybe they developed a new theorem (even if they led an adulterous lifestyle), or pulled of a great heist (even though they were fundamentally engaging in thievery). All these seem to tell us that it is more important to harness the genius within us, or some power or trait that all individuals must possess – something that could define us and make us different from the rest. Yet, Isn’t our crisis of our identity the defining crisis of the age? We simply don’t know who we are and who we want to be. We never find rest, always searching for something – to go where no one has gone before, to do what no one has done, to lead a life that is solely ours. Our daily discipline is to differentiate ourselves from the other. Our daily meditation is: how can this picture I post show that I am this and not that?
Is there a problem with striving to be unique? To want to go to places no one has been before, to appear bohemian? After all, didn’t God make us all special snowflakes? Yes, God made us all different, with varying talents and gifts, but He never wanted us to be defined by them, I don’t think. I would think God is more concerned with what we do with our gifts in relation to Him than what our gifts are; with how we treat others than how we prefer to treat others as according to our personality types. That is the reason why He disciplines His children, that is why He rewards those who walk in His ways – for though we all are of different kinds, we all still are in desperate need of God. He is thus more interested with who we are in Him, who we will become as a matter of shaping our character as we strive to be like Christ. Yet today, an appreciation of one’s character is in desperate want.
Now that our lives are relatively peaceful, there seems to be little chance to demonstrate character in the common ways we think it to be. For example, to have courage in the face of death. But that’s only because we watch too many movies. There are in fact, a great many ways to unearth and build one’s character. You see, the danger of exposing ourselves to the plethora of sights and sounds of the world is that we become unsure of who we want to become. On the one hand, we want to be that charming man with an endearing smirk; on the other hand, we want to be that undiscovered, awkward genius who quietly impresses his professor. But character takes effort to be perceived – it is not only demonstrated in times of cinematographic action. Character is also manifest in, “will you pray for me?” which implies that I need God more than I can help myself; and in enjoying serenity in the midst of anxiety; for it is not the modern nonsense of “let go and let God”, but, as J.I. Packer said, “trust God and get going.” Character is telling of the future. A man who is deceitful over small things will likely be deceitful over great things too. And this is why we have such an anchor in God, for we can trust His character. He is the same today, tomorrow, and forever. Sadly, today, the closest we ever get to an appreciation of character is: yeah he’s a very nice guy; or she’s a kind-hearted girl.
Why have our gazes turned to that which will perish? Why have we ceased to appreciate and admire the imperishable spirit that transcends form and appearance? We have all been there; in fact, we must all have seen it. A person’s character is not immediately perceivable, character needs to be acted out. It is beyond the realm of speech (although it sometimes is), and it is not something we describe ourselves with. People go to job interviews claiming they are great at this or that. But nobody says I am courageous or am humble, or am righteous. Character is also not usually known to the young, for character must be forged, it must be hammered like a still-burning iron, to be shaped into something permanent and strong. But what is it exactly?
Well, I think Character is not our personality – whether we are feisty or spontaneous or cheerful. Character, as I see it, is how we are when we are called to act. It is not manifest in merely contingent scenarios, such as in offering a dollar to a beggar, it is manifest in regularly giving to those in need. For who knows if the very public nature of giving to a beggar conditions our act of giving, duping us and others into believing that we have such and such a character. But it is not merely a habit, for habits condition our actions in known circumstances – character conditions our actions even in unknown circumstances.
But it is character that will cause us to be deemed as “irrational”. For character must endure and persist even in changing circumstances and thus, the changing utility functions. It is the modern economic stipulation to assume “all things be equal” that dehumanises us all. Yet, it is ironically true, for we do not all demonstrate the same character, so might as well take character away from our calculations. What then do we leave behind to young impressionable minds? We tell them that rationality is a matter of one cherished, commonsensical paradigm that is independent of moral and ethical considerations, and that the self is always the most fundamental consideration. Yet we forget to tell them that it is not really common-sense, it is just a sense that we have exalted, one sense that monopolises all other senses. For the same reason, we have to bear the preposterous challenge of the young: what’s the utility of virtue? How will I benefit in demonstrating character?
In the Lord of the rings, Merry was a halfling possibly even shorter than a young boy of the world of men. Yet he was not treated for his appearance, for even the brave horse lords of Rohan respected him for his participation in the Fellowship’s dangerous quest. Though Merry was lacking in physical stature, he was desperate to ride to battle with King Théoden, who would not allow it.
Now having eaten he made ready to set out again, and he wished his esquire a kindly farewell. But Merry begged for the last time not to be parted from him.
“This is no journey for such steeds as Stybba, as I have told you,’ said Théoden. ‘And in such a battle as we think to make on the field of Gondor what would you do, Master Meriadoc, swordthain though you be, and greater of heart than of stature?”
‘As for that, who can tell?” answered Merry. ‘But why, lord, did you receive me as swordthain, if not to stay by your side? And I would not have it said of me in song only that I was always left behind!”
Merry was a halfling that had not actually seen war. Yet, the last thing he wanted to do was to leave his lord behind, even if it meant riding to his own death. It was not any power that he could offer – for he was not made to be a good warrior and would most likely be a burden – but it was his spirit. This is character in demonstration, even if he meant to be remembered by minstrels, but at least, he wanted to be remembered as brave and loyal. In other words, Merry wanted to be remembered for his character – in spite of his appearance.
I have seen character. I’m sure you have to.
Now back in the military, I developed a close bond with my bunkmate of mine. He was tall – taller than me, a very slim guy who seemed more like he read books every day rather than pumped iron. During our field camp in the jungle, we slept under a tent, completely exhausted from a day’s training. Sleeping inside a tent is perhaps one of the greatest luxuries during a field camp. However, one is almost never dry – either our socks are damp and moist but tightly locked inside our boots, or we are sleeping in dirty fatigues soaked with sweat from the day’s labor. Even so, there is great comfort to finally rest peacefully under the bare protection of a tent, even though any kind of sleep is never restful, and is always easily disturbed – either by a root that runs against our spine or due to the movement of the grass. Still, the silence of the night accompanied only with the croaking of toads and the buzzing of cicadas is suitable enough for some well-deserved rest.
One night it poured heavily. I stirred from my sleep and saw that the large water droplets caused the ground to muddy, and the mud was slowly seeping in. I wasn’t really sure what to do, neither was I keen to do anything. Maybe there really wasn’t anything to do at all. Well, no matter what I could do, I certainly didn’t want to go out in that pouring rain. And so, I looked hopelessly as the water and mud seemed to seep in slowly. But my friend finally decided that something had to be done. He got up and ran out into the heavy rain, took a huge log, and placed the log under our groundsheet to elevate the corner from the mud. It saved my sleep that night. We never spoke about it after that, and I never told him how much I appreciated what he did. What he demonstrated was not only quick thinking, but character of a certain sort, a kind that was willing to sacrifice his own wellbeing to better the situation of himself and others. He demonstrated a side of him that belied his lack of apparent “manliness” in such an institution so enamoured with sonorous voices, thick veiny arms, and a stout chest. These are things you never and can never see on Facebook profiles or instagram photos, do you?
Why does character matter? I think because it is the only part of us that will endure throughout our lifetimes – and even more. There are many things in the modern world that don’t stand the test of time. If they did, we wouldn’t be living in what is known as a “consumer society”. We are conditioned to consume; and for that reason, very little products are really made to endure. If we will fix our eyes on the things that last far longer, we will naturally find ourselves easily detached from the embellishments, ornaments and shifting shadows that whisper and seduce our sights.
Therefore, we must celebrate character, and celebrate the work of God in moulding the characters of people around us. We must go beyond “fun-loving”, “approachable”, “nice”, “friendly”. These are hardly indicative of character. But it is not easy, for in a world of appearances, character is not something displayed, it is manifest in action. As Christians, more than enjoy our gifts and talents, I think we must ask how we are using these gifts for His kingdom. We must also pray over passages that will bring us closer and closer to becoming a useful vessel for God – to be a pure and blameless person, to be one ready to cloth neighbours and entertain strangers. We must be willing to shorn ourselves of things that attract but do not convince, things that differentiate but do not distinguish. Maybe once we begin to appreciate character, we begin to see that marriage to someone with beautiful character is perhaps one of the sweetest things known to man.
Signing off,
Fatpine.
fatpine 