Normally, when I write one of these things, I get the call to examine a particular topic and I mostly punch it out in one sitting. Well, occasionally, I take a break but come back to it pretty quickly. On two occasions, I believe, I started writing but had trouble with it, failing to get the traction to take me over the top. I’ve never completed one of them, although I still want to. The other is this one, which I started almost two months ago but it’s been dormant. I think the main reason is that I ran into unexpected stuff. What I had anticipated as a pretty straightforward line of thinking ended up having tentacles and I needed to step back and take stock.

Yesterday, dear friend and pastor, Mofid Wasef, our remarkable Egyptian immigrant and holy man, took on the subject at church in his sermon. Kind of inspired me to put my big boy pants on and see if I can pull it together. My rendering of the subject will be different from his and not nearly as good (or concise). But, fortunately, it’s not a competition! 🙂

So, here we go with Round Two.

* * *

We are here to talk about integrity, something that most people will acknowledge is a good thing. In fact, most people will say that it is a very good thing and that a lack of integrity is, at a minimum, a pretty bad thing. One of the things I got hung up on when I first went after the topic is the question of whether there is something more important than integrity that can really determine whether it is truly good. Let’s see.

Some six or seven months ago, I had the occasion to attend the memorial service for a high profile dad and parent of Mission Hills High School, the school I founded and where I served as principal for eight years. He died tragically at something like 58 years old, of a heart attack while running. I believe he and his wife had seven children, the six youngest of whom were exceptional athletes as well as very good students. (As an aside, the eldest and only non-athlete was the only one who chose teaching as a profession, serving in one of our middle schools.) As icing, they were also terrific young men (and one young woman) who demonstrated good character, were kind and respectful and well liked by their peers. At the memorial service, attended by well over 1000 people, each of the now-adult children spoke in turn, from youngest to eldest. I was pretty much mesmerized (as well as convicted) by their description of their father and their relationship with him. Now, no one is perfect. But they were right out of Norman Rockwell. As I knew them fairly well, I knew they were also humble and aware of their flaws. As they were an observant Mormon family, I was not surprised at how the family functioned. One night a week was family night. Church and bible study. Charitable work. The parent-initiated Family Vision Statement that was discussed and used constantly. I took a lot away from the nearly two hours that seemed like much less. Here were lives and heart-felt testimonies on display. Love from children and friends and colleagues who came to pay homage to someone so many held in the highest esteem.

Of the many topics covered … and there were many … none struck me greater than that of Integrity. Mr. Moore taught it, examined it, expected it and by all measures lived it. His children said his approach to integrity had the utmost impact on their lives and is a foundation of their own vision for a life well-lived.

I’ll mention another thing. One of the sons put it simply. He said his dad taught that integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking.

Hi. My name is Brad Lichtman and at times I have lacked integrity.

Doing the right thing when no one is looking. That’s a mouthful. It supposes that we not only conduct ourselves consistently and purposefully in accordance with our fundamental values, but that they are the “right” values. Which, of course, opens a loophole that we’ll get to eventually. But, for now, let’s move on.

If humility is thinking less of oneself, then it seems that integrity is a close first cousin. If one apt definition of integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking then it is certainly the absence of pride as one cannot hope to get credit for being good. And, I think this is another worthy topic to explore. I know I’ve been on a journey to understand it and see how my life can be better lived if done so with complete integrity.

My handy dandy little computer dictionary app says integrity is “being honest with high moral principles.” OK.

I’m going to toss out that it is knowing what is the right thing to do and doing it. Unequivocally. Only secondarily is it walking the walk as well as talking the talk. Before that occurs there must come the knowing. And that’s where I want to start.

This brings us back to the theme of the compass with a true North that acts as a magnet to call our vision and actions in that direction and no other. That place defines our set of principles. And principles give birth to values. I’ll say that again. The compass point defines our principles and principles are the foundation of our values, what we hold as important. Our values guide our thinking and behavior, thereby shaping us as human beings. All people have values even if the principles are fuzzy. In fact, fuzzy principles engender behavior that can appear chaotic. Twisting in the wind so to speak.

Mr. Moore taught his children that it’s important to have a vision … a call to a place … that is grounded and not subject to change. I imagine he would have cited the seven virtues we touched on recently as expressive of that place but I’m sure he went deeper and taught their source. Now, whatever one thinks about the faith commonly known as Mormonism, his teaching had authority and vitality. And the result is seven children, now all adults, who believe it’s important to know right from wrong, good from bad. It’s just as important to try to live a life consistent with that knowledge, not only expressing it but actually living it. Whether or not anyone is watching.

This is called honesty. This is called integrity.

And so it begins with knowing. And then it proceeds to implementing the knowing. That is called honesty. And then it proceeds to being honest, regardless of time or place or circumstance or consequence to self. And to align these consistently is to demonstrate a life of integrity. At least that’s basically how I see it.

There is a caveat: One can have great integrity and be completely evil. This happens when we have a different compass point, thereby choosing a different set of principles that result in a different determination of what is or is not moral.

(In the telling, the high angel Lucifer demonstrated integrity and lived with the consequence. In certain circles he is now referred to as the Satan, the embodiment of evil, who whispers falsehoods into our ears and life to distract us from the truth. He seduces and tempts, sometimes subtly and sometimes boldly. His most powerful temptation is that we do not need God but that we can be gods, defining what is right by what fulfills our own very important needs or the expression of our feelings. Needs that spring forth from instinct and desire, not from external standards. This concept of an embodied evil is a tough sell in the modern age and, especially, in this period we are now calling postmodern age. It’s a tough sell largely because we’ve already bought its truth. Its false truth.)

One of the easiest ways to determine if integrity is absent is to identify hypocrisy, perhaps its most obvious opposite. I say obvious because a lack of integrity is frequently not so visible and can live a hidden life. So the hypocrisy is not as evident.

As we know, hypocrisy is saying one thing or believing one thing and doing its opposite. 

I have to ask, is hypocrisy now normative?

Certainly, we’re surrounded and inundated by it via much of media and courtesy of many powerful politicians and entertainers of all stripes. I’d start a list but, aside from the fact that I might make some people unhappy, I’d only be depressed.

And then there’s the whole thing about people who live in glass houses, throwing the first stone, being aware of the log in my own eye before calling out the speck in another’s.

I know she REALLY won’t like this but my wife, Diane, is the most honest person I know. She won’t like me saying this for a number of reasons, including her self-awareness of her own shortcomings. But, to me, that only underscores how honest she is. And, she’s always been this way. I know that she’s led by an inner compass that keeps her on course, as difficult as that may be at some times. And I can testify as to “what you see is what you get.” In short, she has tremendous integrity.

How do we develop or improve our ability to live a life of integrity?

First, I think we have to do the simple thing of recognizing integrity as a good thing. Not purely in a theoretical sense but actually as an important practical dimension in our lives. We need to make it a priority. Which means we need to think about it. A lot. We think about all sorts of things. Our minds sift through a ton of stuff all the time. We are drawn to this or that … basically drinking out of a fire hose with a straw as the stuff pours in and our minds seek to categorize, evaluate and prioritize. Accordingly, we need filters. One of the filters is to examine the things over which we really have some kind of influence. The thing is not just a mere distraction.

Second, assuming we think that integrity is a good thing and assuming we conclude that it’s a fairly or really important thing, we need to consider what to do about it. And this is where it can begin to get tricky. Well, we need to clarify our foundational principles and their corresponding values … the means by which we can make judgments about how to think, act and behave. As I mentioned, we need to have a clear vision of right and wrong. It certainly helps to realize that some values are inherently better than others … something that could come as a surprise to those who live within a reality of moral relativism. Don’t get me going again.

Third, as we engage the issue and spend some time clarifying our principles and values and the source of these things, we need to ask the question of what our lives would be like if we lived these things all of the time. Many might think this is not that hard: “I have guiding principles and for the most part I believe I am true to them.” And, you’re probably right.

On the other hand, as someone who used to preach the value of life-long learning … which is another way of saying we are always growing, why not consider how we can refine our thinking and actions according to an established set of precepts. Honing and revising, wondering how life could flourish given a fuller integration of values and behavior.

Let’s take charity for an example. What is charity and how are we supposed to treat the value? Well, presumably the concept arises out of some sense that those of us who have more should help some of those who have less and are in need. Most people think that charity is a good thing. Certainly, most people in our culture would be taken aback by someone who argued that all charity is fundamentally a bad thing. There are all sorts of reasons underlying a sense of charity and two different people could be motivated by completely different objectives. Now, we should separate the kind of involuntary giving like taxes or such, even though most of us understand the need for some taxes. Let’s look at charity in the sense we should voluntarily give to others.

Of course, this sense might be something like a little nudge of guilt that “I don’t really like giving away any of my hard earned money to anyone else regardless of their circumstances. To be honest, I sort of feel it’s not my problem but I do sort of feel guilty … a little … when I think about it. After all, I don’t like that some people really suffer through no fault of their own and I am living pretty high off the hog, at least comparably.” Or, it might be something like “I really don’t like inequality and I think that government should take the lead on redistributing wealth. I’m OK with paying higher taxes to help take care of the problem.” Or, “I seem to be giving a lot. How much more am I supposed to give?”

We could probably come up with a gazillion variations of the way we look at helping people with less. But, I’d like to take a bit of a different tack without dismissing the importance of engaging the kind of thinking just described.

As much as something like the “amount” has relevance, I think it pulls us off the mark. The beginning is not quantity but motivation and here’s where we circle back to integrity.

Do we actually care that people suffer through want? Through privations we don’t experience? That they are hungry or ill-clothed? Victims of abuse? Of violence? Persecution?  That they suffer from loneliness? Mental illness?

If we just don’t care, then there is no question of integrity and charity is not a virtue we value. But what if our conscience sort of pings and we either do think about these things or think that we should think about these things? What to do about it and what does integrity look like here?

Do we refrain from giving because we don’t want to lose too much? Do we give because we think we’re going to get some kind of reward for giving, either in the respect of others or (in a sadly religious framework) a return benefit later on?

These kinds of calculations regarding connecting possible behavior with a guiding principle only tug us away from a life of integrity because they are artificially layered on, thereby separating us from the value we profess.

They are often adopted as a means of pleasing someone or something … a group or institution, for instance. And, therefore, they obstruct the thing most necessary for nourishing authentic integrity: A humble and very honest self-examination that can only come from dramatically reducing our inclination to judge others before inviting judgment on ourselves.

Of course, as I write this, we are drowning in all sorts of shouting from soap boxes, fists raised, tempers overflowing, vulgarity spewing, as leaders in government, the media, entertainment, academia, you name it, vie to be recognized as principled people who have integrity while their opponents are obvious examples of the opposite. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I really don’t feel called to do either but to shake my head and try to turn away.

I could write pages and pages on how power corrupts principle and that it’s as plain as day how that works. And, power is neither the province of the left or the right but of those who are self-righteous. And, self-righteousness is a cancer on integrity.

Self-righteousness is the victory of a mind bent upon domination over a heart bent upon love. It is the seduction of power in the guise of doing the right thing. Ultimately, it becomes the pursuit of power and attention that was originally born from a closely held value. I have seen it over and over. History is replete with it.

What to make of all of this?

First, integrity is a very, very good thing. It means that a person of integrity is firmly grounded in a set of guiding principles and that the person spends considerable time and energy adjusting behavior to those principles. Never an easy task as it requires constant attention, transparency to others, admission that hypocrisy is always a tug, sometimes in the most powerful of ways.

Second, we need to be aware of the pitfalls when it comes to examining our own integrity. Integrity (or consistency with fundamental principles, exercised in real life) is not enough on its own. If the point is to live the right kind of life, integrity needs to be cast alongside other important forces. Without the right fundamental set of standards that shape those principles, the allure of self-righteousness and the grip of power can lead us severely astray. This is a big deal.

Third, we need to peel away the layers to get to the core. The nugget at the center. The true North on our compass. This is very hard work but it is good and healthy work. Absent that work, we commit more hypocrisies than we can imagine. What starts out as a seemingly healthy consistency, withers under review. We can express all sorts of platitudes about this or that kind of good but the mirror that peers beneath the surface, exposing hardened hearts, is relentless. Which is a big reason why we constantly avoid that mirror.

Fourth, we need to name that compass point, that nugget. We need to name it and explore it and come to grips with it. This, also, is very hard. Just as we submit willingly to the need to peel away the layers to discover the foundation for our guiding principles, we need to live into that center, learning not to avoid it. Learning to explore its depths and surrendering to its truths. In this postmodern world where truth is relative and feelings falsely reign as permanent things, this is anathema. But, now well on my way into my seventh decade, I see no alternative.

Fifth, as hard as these things are to do, they are much easier in the end. We can give up our puffed chests that call attention to us as we seek recognition and reward for what we see as good behavior, correct viewpoints, righteous actions. It takes a lot of energy to keep those chests puffed, much more than it takes to surrender and look for that set of essential and eternal truths.

Finally, the mirror is incredibly liberating. It releases the power of deceit, the stories we make up to project prowess because we don’t want to admit frailty and failure. That power is binding and it is not a good thing. It is intoxicating and distracting. It feeds on itself and makes all sorts of promises. These are false promises. Integrity is doing the right thing when no one is looking. What is the right thing, really? What is the right thing today? Does my puffed chest and the energy it takes to sustain it, distract me from something right in front of my face that I’ve been ignoring? In the end, what is right and true and permanent?

In the end, we may disagree what or who that right, true and permanent thing is, in fact. OK. In the meantime, we’ve engaged a journey that is healthy and one that Mr. Moore endeavored to teach his family. For me, and as Pastor Mofid so eloquently articulated, the thing involves a promise. It is a promise I actually heard and it is unlike any other promise. It is right and true and permanent. More so than anything I’d ever faced before or since. It’s a promise that takes us to our knees but then raises us up fully. A promise so profound that, as hard as voluntarily holding up the mirror is, it unleashes a love and grace that shatters the false powers that have exercised such control. It says, “I see you all of the time. I see and know everything about you and always have and always will. I know your thoughts, even as you might want to hide them. You can’t escape me, much as you might try. So, please turn towards me and receive a love you cannot have imagined. Learn to live in the reality of grace. A grace that offers freedom from caricature. A grace that is lavishing and can sustain you through the toughest of times. It’s a simple promise. But one you can take to the bank. Period.”

A journey towards integrity is always a good thing. A journey to that which is the source of integrity is nothing short of magnificent.

Amen.