Assume It’s Me
“We have a note from the sound booth,” Brother Wilberg said. “There is a baritone whose voice is a little too strong. It‘s coming from that microphone right in the center of the bass section, and it’s the one pointed straight down. Look up. If the microphone is right over you, it could be you.” He paused, then uttered a very familiar—at least to the Choir—directive, “Assume it’s you.”
We were rehearsing for the Pioneer Day concerts. I looked up. I was right under the indicated microphone.
Now please understand: I work very hard at blending in with the other voices in the baritone section and in the Choir. I don’t want my voice to stand out. I was pretty certain that I was not the person whom the sound technicians were noticing. HOWEVER, as Brother Wilberg frequently says, “Assume it’s you.” So I did. I assumed it was me and acted accordingly. I listened more carefully to make sure my voice did not unravel the fabric of sound we were all working so hard to weave.
It doesn’t matter if my voice were the clearest, most perfect instrument of vocal music ever created. When I’m with the Choir, I’m not there to sing a solo; I’m there to participate in the creation of harmony, to blend my offering with others, to create true and miraculous beauty.
But what if I’m the one singing the words and notes correctly, and the nearby brethren of the Choir are not? As inconceivable as that may be, I am sometimes right and they are sometimes wrong. (I know. I know. You can stop laughing now. Really, you can. Breathe. That’s it. You’ll burst a blood vessel. Good. That’s better.) When I know I’m in the right, I can gently remind my brethren. I can point out the mistake by opening the sheet music and pointing to the erroneously sung note. Usually, if I can show the exact place in the music, the others will make the adjustment. However, often there are handwritten changes in the music that represent the interpretation of the previous steward of the sheet music or the previous conductor. Sometimes, such changes are no longer applicable. They may be erased or crossed out. When that happens, there can be differences of opinion.
For example, today, one chorus we sang had the word “all” crossed out and replaced by a handwritten “the”. Most people in the section had this change written in. However, in my music, the change hand been erased. (In other words, at one point we did sing “the”, but now we were supposed to sing the original text.) So there was a brief discussion as to which word we should sing. We didn’t have time to refer the question to Brother Wilberg, so we decided to sing the text as written. As we listened to the rest of the Choir, it became obvious that most (but not all) of the Choir was singing the original text. So, as it turned out, I was correct and my position on the subject was adopted by the entire section.
However, if it had turned out the other way (i.e., if the section had decided to sing “the” instead of “all”) I would not have improved our performance by loudly (or even softly) singing the correct word. If I had done that, my voice would have stuck out. AFTER the performance, I could have pointed out the problem to the section leader, and HE could have gone to Brother Wilberg for clarification. That would have been the correct way to handle the situation.
(NOTE: The chorus in question was composed by George Frederick Handel. So, one could say that would have been the correct way to Handel the situation, but that would just be too punny, so let’s not go there.)
When I was in junior high school in Suitland, Maryland, I was a member of the school choir (because we had moved to a new state and city, and the new school didn’t have an orchestra and my cello just wouldn’t fit in with the school marching band). Our choir teacher that year decided that we would sing a song entitled “That’s the Time I Feel Like Making Love to You.” You read that correctly (and hopefully, more than once): she thought this song was appropriate for 7th, 8th, and 9th graders to sing. Actually, I’m having a hard time believing this would be appropriate for any choir composed of children to sing. Ever. (Or adults, for that matter, but I digress.) But that song was on our concert program. Not only that, we went around to elementary schools to sing this song.
When I went to the teacher privately and told her (very politely, in my opinion) that I could not sing that song, my teacher (who was normally a very nice lady) told me that I would sing it or I would get an “F” in the class. (NOTE: Most people know that performance music classes in junior high school are typically an “easy A,” so long as you show up, participate, and have a good attitude. Apparently, my teacher considered my position to be unacceptable.) I told her that I would not sing those lyrics. She told me that I would just have to live with the consequences.
When the choir sang that particular song, I simply closed my mouth and did not sing. I did NOT leave the risers or make a scene or shout a protest or carry a sign saying, “This song is sinful!” I simply quietly obeyed my conscience. The first couple of times the choir sang that song, my teacher gave me the “evil eye.” But after the first couple of performances, she simply ignored my abstention.
And I still got an “A” in the class.
As mortal and imperfect sons and daughters of God, we sometimes come into conflict with those around us, especially over matters of conscience. When such contentions arise, there is very little we can do to change the behavior or opinions of others. We can lead by example. We can declare truths. We can strive to live according to those truths. We can invite others to listen to and accept those truths. But we can’t change another person’s heart. Truly changing a heart can only be accomplished by two people working together: the person to whom the heart belongs and the Holy Ghost. I can’t change your heart and you can’t change mine. And attempting to do so, attempting to force you to say or act as if you agree with me would be as evil you trying to coerce me to act as if I agree with you.
On the other hand, we should NEVER compromise our principles. We should never call evil good or good evil. We should never try make the two equivalent, because they are not and can never be equivalent.
But we can still be Christ-like to those who disagree with us.
Recently, I saw a billboard where a cartoonish face with a white beard and a big smile was depicted in front of a rainbow. The caption said, “God loves gays.” In response, I declare that He DOES love those who practice a homosexual lifestyle. God loves all his children. That is an immutable truth. He also says, “For I the Lord cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance.” (D&C 1:31) This also is an immutable truth. So God does indeed love gays. He also loves me in spite of my many sins. He also loves abortionists, but that does not mean that he tolerates the murder of innocent children.
The day is coming—indeed it is already here—when those who refuse to call evil good, who refuse to violate their consciences, who refuse to participate in that which God has called an abomination will be persecuted, fined, punished, and imprisoned by those who demand that everyone agree with them. This has happened over and over again throughout human history. This tactic is not new. And in every age of the world, there have been saints who refuse to bow, who refuse to equate the philosophies of men with the word of God.
We must stand fast, but we must do so without resorting to the enemy’s tactics. We must love the sinner while refusing to tolerate the sin, but we must do so as Jesus did. He said, “Nevertheless, thou art not excusable in thy transgressions; nevertheless, go thy way and sin no more.” (D&C 24:2) Always remember that repentance is possible, even for the vilest of sinners—even for you and me.
Repentance is not a word of condemnation. Crying, “Repentance!” is not damning; it is redeeming. It is a cry of hope, of love, of mercy. It is a way of saying, “There is a way back! There is hope! Don’t give up! Don’t surrender to sin. Flee from it. Flee unto Him who has paid for our sins—yours and mine. He will heal you. He will make you whole.”
I’ve got my sins, and you have yours, whatever they are. And while I will do what I can to gently help you along your path of repentance, I will continue along my own path. I cannot change you. I’m not trying to change you.
Because, you see, the only person I can try to fix is myself. Whenever there’s a conflict between you and me, rather than trying to force you to change, I’m going to “Assume it’s me.”
