Standing Up for Truth

This morning's sermon was not given by our teaching pastor, but by a seminary student named Charlie. Charlie and his wife are both people I highly respect, of amazing wisdom and servants' hearts. 

Anyway, Charlie recounted a time when he was on an airplane and overheard (not that it was difficult to overhear people who were practically shouting) a group of athletes in the back of the plane. The young men were passing around pornographic magazines, holding them up for all to see, and talking about the photos in extremely vulgar and obscene language. At first, Charlie, like everyone else on the plane, tried to ignore the situation and mind his own business. But he couldn't ignore the Holy Spirit prompting him to stand up for truth. After a few minutes, Charlie, not being a man of confrontation, took a deep breath, literally stood up to his full six feet and some inches, and basically told the young men to be respectful to others on the plane. When he sat down, his heart was jumping out of his chest, and he half-expected the whole sports team to jump him once the plane landed. But nothing like that happened; in fact, people thanked him for what he did. And Charlie can only hope and pray that the young men learned a little about the self-destructive nature of their actions that day.

When I heard Charlie's tale, I was reminded of all the times I DID NOT stand up for truth, starting in elementary school. In the third grade, when other students made fun of the new Chinese boy, I joined in, though I knew that I shouldn't. All through my growing-up years, I would turn my head rather than face confrontation. I was always afraid of the consequences if I chose to stand up against my peers. What if the team did attack Charlie for speaking out? Would that mean his choice of actions was wrong? Is truth ever wrong?!

One Sunday a few months back, I found seats in front of two teenagers. As soon as we started singing, I realized that the boys were not there for the same reason I was. When their joking and playing continued even when the sermon started, I knew something had to be done, by someone. But no one did anything! Was it up to me?! For some reason, I felt like a highschooler again, the quiet and nerdy wallflower sitting in front of the popular and charismatic football players. But I finally took a deep breath, turned around, and quietly and calmly told the boys to stop talking. Looking back, I should have said with a smile, "This is good. You should listen to this!" But at least I did something instead of nothing; it was a small step, but a step nonetheless.

This was a good lesson learned today. I am no longer a teenager and I no longer need to be controlled by the fears that haunted me in high school. God's truth is truth, no matter what. Whom shall I fear?