Child's Play, The Citizen, September, 1997

A Question of Character

Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.

Stacey and I were in Mexico a few years ago. I don't usually wear jewelry, but I let a peddler talk me into buying a "silver" ring. I wore it only a few weeks until it became evident the ring was merely silver plated, and it was worthless. I paid almost nothing for the ring, but it was undoubtedly worth even less than what I paid for it. Everything I have ever owned has been that way to some extent. Even large purchases for which I saved seemed to lose their luster after a while, and they eventually became relatively unimportant.

All of my assumptions concerning families and child rearing in one way or another are based on character. A person of integrity, I believe, makes the best parent, spouse, or child. Without character, we are like that silver plated ring - shallow and of little enduring value.

We like to talk about character and integrity, but these characteristics come with a heavy price tag. The cost of character includes daily sacrifice, endurance, and self- discipline. We seem to prefer, however, to avoid the very things which develop in us wisdom, patience, and integrity, all the while pursuing with fervor the shallow rewards and shiny trinkets of our culture. We live in a society which encourages immediate gratification and hedonism. True character says "I will give you what I know you need regardless of the cost to me." Instead, however, our culture instructs "Get what you 'deserve' regardless of the cost to others."

We all seem to be aware of the truth that things of significance are things one works for. However, we have the luxury in our affluent culture to continue to pursue the path of least resistance even though we know nothing of value waits for us at the end of the path.

The accident involving Princess Diana was a tragedy, but not because Diana was a Princess. It was a tragedy because three human beings lost their lives. (I find it interesting that we have heard very little of the "tragedy" of the death of her driver and her companion.). Art Italo, a writer in Kennesaw, wrote an editorial in the Atlanta Journal/Constitution concerning our culture's response to the deaths of Diana and Mother Teresa. "While Diana was being whisked away in her Rolls-Royce to a five-star hotel after a hard day of showing her concern and raising awareness, Mother Teresa was falling asleep holding the hand of a child who would wake up in heaven the next morning." He goes on to say, "Therein lies our problem. We increasingly want to be something without having to become something." This is, in fact, a brutal, but accurate, description of what we are.

The rewards of character are internal and long lasting. The rewards of hedonism are like shallow silver plating. A man I once knew was immensely wealthy. He worked hard for what he had earned, but somewhere along the way decided his personal pleasures were more important than the needs of his family. He now lives like Scrooge McDuck, alone with his millions of dollars and no one with whom to share them. I honestly believe one of the saddest homes I have ever visited was his lifeless, empty mansion.

Most of us are intelligent enough to know what we are doing. We are deliberately pursuing things which develop character or we are selfishly chasing after our primitive desires. Many of my adult clients have found themselves in situations where they faced the loss of their spouses and homes because of their own selfish choices. Some of them have even faced prison. Not once in over a decade of practice have any of these people honestly been able to tell me they did not know what they were doing. The bottom line, then, seems to be that what you are is what you decide to be.

Nonstop media coverage, candlelight vigils, and unending table conversation followed the death of one whose life was characterized by infidelity, a broken marriage, a gigantic dress collection and other excesses of wealth. The death of one whose life was characterized by self-denial and the betterment of humanity received honorable mention. We have the power to change the way we are. We now need the will to do so.

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