What I’m about to share happened while waiting in line at the Ace Hardware near my home a few days before Christmas. Jennifer and I stopped there for some miscellaneous items. Essentially, the visit went as follows:

Finishing the sale and handing the man in sleep pants his receipt, the youthful cashier said with a smile, “Thanks for coming in. And Merry Christmas.”

His trajectory already toward the door, the man stopped mid-stride and turned back, pausing long enough to stir concern among us for what he might say.

“Ma’am,” he started, “thanks for saying that.” But before relief could form in any of us, he continued, “You know, I’m so G*# D@*%ed tired of people saying ‘Happy Holidays’! It’s Christmas, for cryin’ out loud! People need to stop with the ‘Happy Holidays’ %*@# and say ‘Merry Christmas’!”

Nodding to the elderly woman in line behind him as if expecting her agreement, he looked back to the cashier. “Keep it up,” he said, walking backward toward the door. “You’re doin’ God’s work.”

Forcing her smile, the cashier replied, “Thanks again,” followed by an equally strained, “Merry Christmas.”

The elderly woman was visibly bothered. And why wouldn’t she be? She comes from a strange and alien land by comparison. Where she’s from, they don’t speak that way to one another, let alone adorn Christmas in vernacular sludge. I’m an inhabitant of a similar land, often considering myself a part-time resident of the 21st century. In many ways, I only visit out of necessity. I said as much to the woman in line.

“I’m not from that man’s world.”

She knew what I meant, responding, “Me either.”

Before I go any further, it might surprise you that I’m skipping over the man’s vocabulary choices. That seems too easy. You already know that his defense of “Merry Christmas” was an obnoxious contradiction in terms (Romans 12:1-2). Instead, I prefer to approach the event from a less obvious angle: the man’s sleep pants.

For starters, I know that 21st-century culture prides itself on self-pleasing individualism. That pride sometimes produces a desire to buck the system. Admittedly, bucking the system is sometimes required. But that’s not necessarily self-pleasing individualism. It can sometimes be a response born from the knowledge of right and wrong. God’s Law is written on our hearts (2 Corinthians 3:3), and if a person digs deeply enough, he’ll know when to abide and when to push back. Examining the strata, he’ll also discover that societies have their written and unwritten rules. It might not seem all that important, but I’m pretty sure an unwritten rule common to most is that what a person wears to bed is not what he or she should wear in public. The rule has little to do with what a person may or may not find most comfortable. Instead, it deals with liberty’s responsibility, namely, one’s role relative to context and the people in it.

No, sleep pants in specific public settings aren’t inherently wrong. A person wrestling with illness might be found wearing them at a doctor’s office. But that same person, healthy or sick, would not wear them to a court appearance or wedding.

Why?

Most normal folks don’t need to be told the answer, which proves the unspoken rule—the innate standard that fosters and preserves dignity, resulting in mutual respect. In its simplest and most broad-sweeping form, it knows that a society of conscientious and dignified citizens makes life better for everyone. More precisely, it understands that personal liberty does not mean a person is free to do whatever he or she wants. Liberty comes with responsibility. A society of citizens who think they can be, do, and say anything they want without consequence is doomed to act in ridiculous and contradictory ways. It’ll end up insisting that men can be women and women can be men, and it’ll expect everyone to agree. On the road toward doom, it will have increased its production and acceptability of crass scenarios like the one in Ace Hardware. That was a snapshot of the confused self-centeredness that acts without any concern for the people around it, that paradoxically slathers the dignified greeting “Merry Christmas” with the foulest words any world’s vocabulary can afford and then, unsurprisingly, nods to others, expecting them to praise its irreverence as noble.

What foolishness.

A new year begins tomorrow. An online friend shared the following quotation: “Every year, you resolve to change yourself. This year, resolve to be yourself.” I don’t know who spoke those words initially, but I disagree. I don’t want to settle for being myself. I want to be better than myself. This isn’t only for my benefit but for yours, too.

I’ve written plenty about how New Year’s resolutions are a good practice. Every year, I attempt to make personal changes. I do this because I know myself. I know I’m incredibly flawed. And so, by faith, I’m less inclined to remain settled in these flaws. I want to fight them (Galatians 5:16-18). I want to be better. I want to reach higher, just as Saint Paul encouraged: “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Colossians 3:1-4).

However, remember: “Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm” (Proverbs 13:20). In other words, to change, sometimes one’s surroundings must first be changed.

Thinking about the man at Ace Hardware, if I could make a resolution for him, it would be to spend a little time each day with citizens of the alien worlds owned by the elderly woman behind him in line. I’d have him binge-watch I Love Lucy or Bonanza instead of the drivel on Netflix. Or better yet, I’d send him to Dickens and Twain, to Austen and Fitzgerald. I’d send him to places where men respected shop clerks and the elderly, where men were women’s protectors, where language mattered, and so on. I’d send him to those distant realms for a few moments each day of the forthcoming year.

I don’t know what the effects might be. Still, it couldn’t hurt. I know someone who once spent a year in England and returned with the hint of a British accent and afternoon tea as routine. We become that in which we immerse ourselves.

Since we’re talking about it, how about this for a New Year’s resolution?

If you’re a Christian who’s been apart from your church family for a while, imagine how you’ve changed since you’ve been away. Now, imagine the benefits of returning. Imagine the eternal value of regular visits with the Gospel of Christ’s wonderful forgiveness. By extension, I’ll bet it wouldn’t be long before certain tendencies were traded away as strangely foreign. Receiving a steady diet of Christ’s forgiveness (which God’s Word promises will produce fruits of faithfulness [Galatians 5:22-23]), a person is bound to stumble into agreement with Saint Paul’s instruction to “not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (Romans 12:2). That same person will likely align with Paul’s instruction to “stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thessalonians 2:15), and to “let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (Ephesians 4:29).

Who knows? Either way, it’s worth considering. And may I suggest giving it a try in the New Year?